A man sitting in what might have been a mint car in its heyday but is now just a dusty, rusty bucket that gets him from point A to point B. The poor Escort was once a beautiful shade of emerald green. Now it kinda looked like a pool that had been long overdue for a cleaning. Abruptly the man pulled the car up to the dinghy curb. It gave out what one could only assume was its last wheeze, as the man shut the car off. 

As he emerged from the vehicle, more like wretched himself free of the car. It was apparent that he was a hard-working man; he spent a lot of time outside in the sun too. His olive-toned skin was only complimented by the dark locks that he quickly covered with a hat. Pulling it down, doing his best to conceal what he could have his face. His dark eyes constantly scanning the streets, even checking behind him as he walked down the sidewalk. His frayed and faded knock-off sneakers kicked trash and other filth out of the way. 

Drawing as little attention as he could he silently turned down a semi-concealed alley. Halfway down that alley was a dumpster, he stood behind it and waited. After ten minutes- the man kept checking his outdated watch- a van stopped roughly at the other end of the alley. While in full sight of the man, someone opened the sliding door, tossed a brown paper-wrapped package and slammed the door shut. The van skidded a little as the driver tried to race off. The man waited until the van was long gone before going and retrieving the package. Quickly shoving the package down the front of his ratty pants, he tossed his pullover sweatshirt over it to hide it more. 

He went out the way he entered the alley, but instead of going straight to his trusty Escort. He made a right at the alley mouth and continued to walk away until he arrived at a parking garage. There he muttered to himself, trying to recall the sequence of numbers he needed. After locating the stairs, he climbed his way to the third floor. After only a moment of grabbing his knees and mumbling about "how out-of-shape" he is. His chuckles echo through the half-full garage. 

Lucky was on his side that night, he checked both spots that could have been the number he needed. Only one had a car, it was an upgrade but not by much. Not even bothering to check what kind of car this was he climbed in. He found the keys tucked into the passenger's side visor. 

The belt squealed as the car came to life, the man let it sit idling as he dug the package out. There was only one word written on the brown paper.

He dumped the contents onto the seat beside him. Money, a few scraps of paper and three photos fell out. Along with a little recorder, which Derek ignored. He had to count the money and make sure it was all there. He had already spent it all, so it better be there. One of the pictures flipped over in his hurry to grab a wad of bills. He took a hard look at the woman on the picture, shook his head and went back to counting. Once he was satisfied, his pockets filled with bills he put the car in drive. 

He had a few things to do before he started his latest job.