Chapter 88 “THEY DECIDE IT is better to pay ten million dollars than seven,” Cobb said quietly when Alice, the waitress who had taken their lunch order, walked away. “Why?” He and the rest of his men, Watson, Nickerson, Hernandez, and Kelleher, sat in a booth at the Robby Eden Café on Atlantic Avenue. The café offered burgers and interesting sandwiches. But more importantly, it was less than a mile from the garage where they’d been living the past two months. In that time they’d become regulars at Robby Eden’s, wearing olive-green work clothes that made them part of the crew at L.A. Standard Demolition, a fictional service devised to allow them to move about unnoticed. Cobb looked out from behind the heavy makeup and the dark glasses he wore in addition to the uniform, peered around the table at his men, still waiting for an answer. Only a few minutes before, they’d seen the phrase “Ten Tomorrow” appear on the city’s website, notifying them of the mayor’s decision.
