The sun is setting on DC. We walk quickly along 7th St. passing by the Portrait Gallery and some men hollering something to us. Well, some of us. I don’t even hear words from their mouths tonight. I’m too busy scanning the crowd for them. Behind, ahead, to the side. They could be anywhere.
We start crossing F St. as the light changes from green to yellow to….orange! We see the orange band wrapped around their arms. Do they see us? Is our cover made, just two blocks from the International Spy Museum? What do we do? There are four of us and two of them. Don’t look suspicious. Just keep walkin… “RUN!” I hear and immediately obey. We are flying down the street, edging families over on the sidewalk (they shouldn’t be all over it anyway. Sorry; I digress.) Are they following us? Is it over? Who’s checking behind us? We look back and around when we hit the light.
It’s clear. For now.
We turn left on Indiana Avenue, one of us crosses the street to draw less attention. We make our way up a block, and I glance back to see a group running up the street. We jog a little, under the guise of making the next light. “What’s their story?” I ask. Are they friendlies? I look back again and they are no longer running. We’re nearly there.
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