"How much longer must we sit here? I can't breathe in here! You could at least open a window!" Aditya complained, straining for air in the cramped van until the movement irritated his wound.
Though it was early November, the large number of people in the van and the wig on Aditya's head created an uncomfortable mug inside the panel van.
"Silence." Kamal commanded. "Priya needs to go around the block again and I need fewer cars to be on the street before we can make our move." Kamaljit explained.
I still don't like that he can talk to me like that. I'd tell him so but he's like a brick wall!
"Well, it's New York, so that ain't gonna happen. Cars are the blood cells of the city, they stop movin', the city dies." Eric explained. "We got the kid a wig and coloured contacts, extra for me and Mary, too. Hell, you're dressed like a bum, everyone is disguised to the nines! You telling me even with the disguises we can't make a move until the streets of upper Manhattan are empty for the first time in forever?" Eric scolded.
"He's right though, Kamy, I've never been a redhead before and my eyes aren't green, Adi looks completely different too, let's just go meet the Cartwright dude so I don't have to sit in this cramped perv-van anymore!" Mary chimed in.
Aditya saw Kamal grip the steering wheel harder and roll up his shoulders.
Maybe we should shut up...
Mary was right though, the new peasant clothes along with the dyed and cut hair made him look like a new person. And though Aditya didn't like the smell of thrift store clothes, they helped to further mask him as just a poor Indian boy instead of the son of an elite diplomat. Aditya scratched at Heinrich's head, the poor beast didn't like having to skid around on the floor of the van and had whined the whole way to the building.
And yet you're still here with me, thanks, boy...
Finally, Kamaljit's phone rang to bring them salvation.
"Hello, Priya? Yes. Understood." Kamal answered. "Priya says her latest sweep of the block came up clean. I don't want to hear any more whining, so I suppose it's safe enough to go in."
"Hell yeah!" Mary cried, unbuckling and climbing over the seats, giving Aditya an uncomfortable view of her skirt.
Disgusting! He thought, looking away as quickly as possible.
"Where do you think you're going?" Kamaljit asked
"Upstairs to the rich dudes' penthouse, duh!" Mary replied.
"No, you stay in the car. I can't have all of you slowing us down. Eric, me, and Aditya will go up. You and the maid stay here and watch the car." Kamal commanded. Mary gasped in disgust.
"Hey! You're just going to leave me here like that?! Who's going to back you up if shit goes south? The chubby crybaby or the limp-wristed doc. No offense, doc."
"None taken, I'm the first to admit I'm no good in a fight. It's why I got the biggest gun they make." Eric laughed.
"Excuse me? 'Chubby crybaby'? I'll have you know—"
"Shut it!" Kamaljit shouted. "Fine, Mary, you come too. Eric, can your maid watch the car alone?"
Damn him! He's a servant! Aditya's eye's stung at the bodyguard's rudeness, but he was smart enough to shut up.
"She's worthless but she can shoot and there's no way in hell she's going to double cross us, give her a gun, I say." Eric agreed.
The young girl pumped her fist in the air and squealed in excitement.
YOU ARE READING
SUPERWORLD
FantasyA Texas high school football star trying to clear his name. A Japanese detective hunts a serial killer while still grieving his missing daughter. An Indian diplomat's son is lost in a foreign land after his father's murder. A French painter seeks to...
