Free Diversion 1 - Diversion by Eden Winters

iPod and toss it out the window. Luckyd lost several iPods to other co-workers road rage.
    Far too soon for his tastes, Lucky located the parking garage where theyd spend a good deal of time over the next few days.
He wound the vehicle through the concrete structure to the fifth level, parking on the outside. Through the windshield he studied the strip mall complex housing their target. Only one of the six available units contained a business, but the entire parking lot already lacked open spaces, even at nine A.M. He switched off the engine and peered through a set of binoculars, the music dying with the motor. His ears continued to ring for a good two or three minutes.
The vehicles down below varied from a late model Mercedes with local plates to a decrepit Chevy S-10. Without the hard evidence of an Illinois tag, Lucky wouldnt have believed such a beat up piece of shit capable of making the trip.
Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed another pair of binoculars, thrusting them at Bo. “Youre the one with a fancy iPad; take note of every vehicle in that parking lot. Make, model, tag,general description of driver. Got that?”
“What?” City boy arched a surprised brow. “Isnt there supposed to be a van, a team? You mean this is just you and me watching cars?”
Lucky sent him a Lucklighter patented glare rumored to curdle milk. “You been watching too much CSI. On TV, budget isnt something you hear often. Welcome to the real world, Newbie. This is simple surveillance; we wanna find out whos coming and going, not what they had for breakfast or whose wife theyre banging. Sheeessh. You college types dont venture out much, do you?”
“All right, all right. Gimme a minute.”
For a small place like the clinic, whatever they were doing, they did it fast. The cars and trucks came and went. Bos fingers rat-a-tatted over the keyboard of his high-tech toy with each new arrival, while Lucky focused on two delivery trucks adding to Ryersons inventory, and a handful of panel vans taking away. None bore any identifying markings. One-handed, he flipped the top off of his thermos, gulping down a mouthful of tepid brew. “Newbie?”
Silence.
“Fresh Meat?”
“Those arent my names.”
“Sunshine, nows not the time to have a diva moment. I want you to start adding arrival and departure times for the cars. Can you handle that?”
Bos clipped response sounded suspiciously like itd been ground out from between wired shut jaws. “I attended four years of college and another four of pharmacy school to be your secretary?”
Without missing a beat, Lucky gave his best affronted look, clutching his proverbial pearls. “I do not think of you as my secretary; I consider you my administrative assistant.” A half-beat later he tagged on, “Or my bitch—you pick.”
“Fuck you!” seemed to come from a million miles away.
“Name the when and the where.” Lucky managed the comeback using half his brain, the other half currently dedicated to upping the magnification of his binoculars to get a better view of the packages traveling via hand truck from the back door of the building to an SUV.
During the height of Luckys party years his own doctor hadnt shied away from writing scripts, but Lucky had never needed more than a plastic shopping bag to haul his meds home. Of course, living with someone with free access to anything he wanted, delivered to the house by the case, meant he didnt often visit a doctor. If he had aches and pains he numbed them with goodies from Victors private stock. Ahhh, those were the days.
He traded binoculars for a camera, snapping a few pictures at the highest magnification.
Unperturbed by Luckys task, Bo carried on their verbal sparring. “Youre a fucking piece of work, arent you?”
Most of his attention focused on the parking lot, Lucky managed a wellrehearsed comeback. “Uh-huh. Wanna see my „fucking piece of work?”
“Saw it in the shower, not that I was looking. Nothing to write home about.”
Lucky