Babayaga

answers.”
    They sat in silence. After all the running around of the past few days, Will was enjoying this slow, peaceful morning. Instead of murder and intrigue, they were merely sitting in a car, watching a door. The quiet was comforting. Will leaned back in the seat and replayed highlights of old Tigers games in his head.
    He finished his cigarette and fell back into a light sleep, only coming to when Oliver nudged him. “I’ve got to find a pissoir . Keep your eye on the shop.” Oliver hopped out of the car and disappeared down the street. When he was gone, Will slid over to the driver’s side to watch the pharmacy. He recalled his grandfather telling him that the only success that mattered was having a job where no one had to cover for you when you went to take a leak.
    He glanced at his watch, it was almost eleven. Looking up again at the rearview mirror, he noticed a figure approaching the pharmacy. The man seemed familiar to Will, though he could not remember from where. The man gave a quick glance around before ducking in the pharmacy’s front door. Will tried to place him, but he had no luck. He wasn’t very good with faces, a fact, he realized, that did not make him particularly well suited for intelligence work. He was relieved when Oliver finally came back to the car. Sliding over to the passenger seat, Will told Oliver about the man.
    “You say he looked familiar?”
    “Very.”
    “But you don’t know from where.” Oliver drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You think he is from the agency?”
    Will was confused. “When you say ‘agency,’ do you mean my advertising agency or the Central Intelligence Agency?”
    “Either will do. Now think, who is he?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Okay, it’s fine. When he exits, you’ll have a chance to try again.”
    So they sat there, watching and waiting. No one emerged from the pharmacy. “Well, I’m fairly certain of one thing,” Oliver finally said. “That man is not here for his toothpaste.” Will nodded, a little disappointed. He had actually hoped this errand would be a dead end; sitting doing nothing in the car had been a nice idyll. Now, though, he could feel the wheels coming to life, all the complexity churning into motion again. It made him feel slightly sick and queasy, reminding him of the feeling he had as a young boy in his West Detroit Little League uniform, standing alone in the peaceful serenity of right field amid the heavenly quiet, which would inevitably be horribly punctuated by the crack of some slugger’s bat hitting a ball out toward him. He remembered watching the ball fly up high in its arcing, parabolic pop-up before coming maliciously back down, bringing so much chaos and mischief hurtling right into the heart of his awkward, uncoordinated life. Ever since he met Oliver, he felt like that, clumsily stumbling around, trying to chase down one fly ball after another.
    His nausea was only made worse by the car’s stale air, a thin haze of cigarette smoke having permeated everything. Also, it didn’t help that Oliver was starting to smell. Will closed his eyes and tried to think of other things, imagining Zoya’s scent, her skin and neck and hair, and the taste down between her legs, which, for some reason, at that moment brought to mind a savory Moroccan tagine. He smiled at the thought, which also made his cock stir, and then suddenly he felt self-conscious, hoping his friend would not notice. An erection in a moment of close camaraderie like this could be tricky to explain. Will opened his eyes and sat up, suddenly impatient to get out of the car and stretch his legs, but also not wanting to move. He was concentrating on trying to relax when Oliver shot up straight with excitement.
    “My gosh, you’re right, we do know him,” said Oliver. They both looked out the rear window as the man emerged from the pharmacy. “It’s Jake.”
    “Jake?” Will said.
    “You know him, Will. You met him the other night.” Then Will remembered, Jake had been the fourth member of the meeting at the nightclub, the sleepy one. “Question is, what in the good Lord’s name is he doing here?” Oliver said, watching Jake disappear down the street.
    “Why don’t we go and ask him?” Will offered.
    “No, considering Boris’s and Ned’s recent experiences, I don’t think the direct approach would be the wisest course,” said Oliver. “However, I am curious if his superiors know what he’s up to.”
    “His