He knew his way around Old Town that was for sure.
I remember when they came to get us his back was to the entrance of the cafe. So he didn't notice until I pointed them out. That's when a look changed in his face. In a flash.
I can't say how I knew that the two men walking through that glass door were significant. Not just one of the passerby's. They just stuck out to me. Like they didn't belong here.
He stood up and pushed his chair in. To other customers watching it wouldn't seem too out of the ordinary. Maybe he's in a rush they'd think. But from my vantage coupled with the look he gave me, I knew it was time to go.
We went through the side, first passing through the open barista/kitchen area. I didn't even know there was a door to the outside here, but after passing the bakers' ovens and through the sinks there it was. I would've probably taken us through the back hall, where the bathrooms were located, but once we were out in the alley I noticed that there was now three men chasing us. One must've been waiting at that backdoor.
Know all your exits.
As we emerged from the alley and entered the streets of what looked to the eyes an ordinary
afternoon
in
Westcity
: people walking their dogs, friends and coworkers grabbing lunch and their lattes. But this was no time to be using my eyes in an experiential sense. The only reason my eyes existed right now was for utility. To look for things that might help us. To look for things that might get us killed.
We suddenly stopped. Then I noticed
sunglasses
on my partner's face. I hadn't noticed him put them on. I didn't even know he had shades to begin with. I gave him a face like, where to next? I saw him glance around, scanning for options for a second. And then he just kept walking down the sidewalk the same way we had been heading before we stopped.