The restaurant was one of those comfortable mid-range places that served decent food without pretension. Exactly the kind of establishment where two people could have a conversation without drawing unwanted attention. I'd arrived fifteen minutes early and claimed a corner table with good sight lines to both entrances. The menu was already open in front of me, and I'd placed my order by the time I spotted the hooded figure entering through the main door.
Mark moved differently than I remembered. Where he'd once carried himself with the confident swagger of someone who believed his own rhetoric about being smarter than everyone else, now he moved with the careful deliberation of a man who'd learned to check shadows and watch for threats. The hood of his jacket was pulled up despite the mild weather, and when he finally lowered it after sitting across from me, I understood why.
