DROP FORTY-EIGHT
Hector had dressed up this time. The Laimargia restaurant was still full of fancy cars, but he couldn’t do anything about his wheels right now. So he settled for being presentable himself, wearing the one and only suit he owned.
He still wore a ballistic undersuit, though. He wasn’t crazy.
He walked up to the head waiter, or whatever the f**k his title was, and said, “Mr Hondros is waiting for me, name is Troy.”
The stuck up man checked the system and saw that it was true. Smiling wide, a smile Hector was certain was practised down to perfection, he said, “Follow me, sir.”
He didn’t need a guide, you could locate Hondros in any restaurant. You just followed the munching sounds. Next to him, radiant as ever was Mamacita. She raised her heavy eyelids at him but didn’t b
