“He wasn’t happy, but he’ll be there.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I had a deep cover guy who needed his help.”
“A lie,” Quinn said, acting impressed. “You’re not afraid of ruining your name?”
“Fuck him. Albina’s a jackass. What do I care what he thinks?”
“He’s got a lot of contacts.”
“So do I.”
Quinn’s instructions had been precise. Albina was to get on the first outbound MUNI “N Judah” train arriving at the Embarcadero station after 11 a.m. He was to take the train two stops to Powell station. Peter had instructed him to get off the train, exit the station, and get in line for the cable car at street level. He was told he would be contacted at that point.
The first part was right, but Quinn had a different plan for after Albina boarded the train.
Since Albina knew Quinn by sight, Nate drew Embarcadero duty. He took up his position a full thirty minutes before Albina was due, and had a bag of groceries as a prop.
While most of the inbound trains terminated at Embarcadero, the N train continued around the northeastern corner of the peninsula, taking riders all the way to the baseball stadium if they desired. So when it returned to the station on its outbound trip, more often than not there were already people onboard.
Quinn waited one stop north of Embarcadero, timing it so he got on the train that would arrive closest to, but not before, the appointed time. It was a two-car train, so Quinn chose a seat near the rear of the first car. He was wearing a black San Francisco Giants baseball hat and a lightweight black jacket. He’d ripped open the lining of one of the pockets so he could hide his SIG inside. To further conceal his identity, he sat with his back against the window, facing away from the platform, his nose stuck in a copy of the
As the train pulled into Embarcadero, he moved the paper down a few inches, giving him a view of the window on the opposite side of the car. He could see the reflections of around twenty people on the platform behind him waiting to get on. It only took a few seconds to pick out Nate.
Quinn had given his apprentice Albina’s description. Once Nate made the ID, he’d been instructed to see who Albina was traveling with. He would then stand behind them as Quinn’s train pulled into the station. Hands at his sides meant Albina was alone. A yawn, and there was one person with him. A yawn with his hand in front of his mouth meant there were two others. More than that and Nate would stand to the side alone. If the latter was the case, Quinn would exit, and they’d call the meet off.
Nate was yawning, but there was no hand in front of his mouth.
Quinn’s hope had been that the train would stop at a point where Albina would get into the same car as he was in. But no such luck. As soon as the doors opened, Albina and his man got onto the second car. Nate followed.
Within moments, the doors shut and the train was on its way again.
At the next stop, Montgomery Street, Quinn quickly exited and worked his way down the platform toward the second car. As much as possible, he kept other commuters between him and the windows. He was still able to catch a glimpse of Albina’s man. The bodyguard was standing near the center of the car, checking out the people getting on and off.
Quinn moved to the last door of the car, slipping on board just before the doors shut again. Keeping his back to Albina’s man, he opened his paper and began reading again. For a few moments, he could sense he was being watched, but as the train started to move out of the station the feeling went away.
It wasn’t long before a prerecorded voice announced, “Powell Station,” and the train began to slow again. Quinn shifted his weight casually, naturally, turning enough so that he could see the others through the corner of his eye.
Albina was sitting on one of the yellow benches near the front of the car. His bodyguard stood a few feet away in the aisle, facing forward. Nate was also standing, but nearer the front exit. As the train pulled into the station, Albina stood. With his man in the lead, they made their way toward the still-closed door.
Quinn let a few other people get up before he began walking down the aisle. He kept his face lowered so that the angle of his cap covered most of his features. By the time the train came to a complete stop, he was standing directly behind Albina.
There was a pause, then the doors slid open.
As they did, Nate stepped forward like he was about to get out, the rest of those waiting surging forward behind him. Just as he was crossing onto the platform, the bottom of his grocery bag split open—the product of a well-placed cut and a hand that had been under the bag until the critical moment.
A jar of pickles, several apples, a carton of milk, and a bag of rice crashed onto the floor right in the threshold of the door. While the jar of pickles had stayed intact, the milk carton and the bag of rice had not.
Everyone pulled back, both in surprise and in an attempt to keep from being hit.
“Ah, hell,” Nate said. “Sorry.”
Outside the door, those waiting to get on moved rapidly down the platform to another entrance, while two of those on the inside jumped over the mess so as not to miss their stop.
The bodyguard glanced back at Albina, who nodded for him to do the same.
“I’m really sorry,” Nate said to the guard.
“Just get out of the way,” the man said.
