Killing Them Softly (Cogan's Trade Movie Tie-in Edition)

entrance doors in the glass of the windows of the lounge. He wore a hearing aid button in his right ear.
    Russell came through the doors, into the terminal.
    The man in the light blue suit bent his neck to the left and talked out of the left side of his mouth into the small rectangular bulge in his uniform shirt. “This is unit seven. All units converge.”
    The two men in business suits left the light green Ford and went to the doors of the terminal on the easterly side. The driver got out of the cab and went to the door on the westerly side. Four men got out of a blue Dodge Polara in front of the terminal. Two moved to the front of the terminal. One went to join the cab driver on the westerly side. One joined the men from the light green Ford on the easterly side. Two baggage handlers, each wearing a hearing aid button, stepped back from the baggage check-in and stood near the doors at the back of the terminal. One of the ticket sellers, in a white shirt, stepped out from behind the counter, moving slowly.
    Russell paused to let the ticket seller walk in front of him. The ticket seller roused a drunk, asleep on the bench. He began to usher the drunk toward the easterly doors. After Russell had his back to them, the drunk required less assistance.
    Russell went to the baggage lockers on the westerly side of the terminal.
    The man in the security force uniform watched from the top of the stairs. He spoke again. “Unit seven to all units. West side, west side.”
    Russell inserted the key to locker 352 and turned it.
    The men from the light green Ford entered the terminal through the easterly doors.
    Russell opened the locker and took out a box wrapped in brown paper. He opened the bag and put the box in. Leaving the locker door ajar, he turned toward the front of the terminal. He carried the bag in his left hand.
    The driver of the cab entered through the westerly door. The two men in the baggage room went out into the passenger area of the terminal. The men from the Polara came in through the front doors and the man inthe security force uniform turned slowly away from the front doors as Russell approached them.
    The men from the light green Ford walked up behind Russell, one on each side. When they were half a pace behind him, they took him firmly by the elbows. Russell’s body sagged.
    The man on Russell’s right said: “Bureau Narcotics. You’re under arrest.” He had a chrome-plated forty-five automatic in his right hand. He stuck the barrel close to Russell’s face.
    The man on Russell’s left had handcuffs in his left hand. He stepped backward without letting go of Russell’s arm and swung it behind Russell. He locked one cuff on Russell’s left wrist and took the bag from him. He pulled Russell’s right arm back and locked the wrist into the cuff. He patted Russell down. He shook his head.
    The man with the automatic said: “You’re pretty fuckin’ obvious, my friend. Matter of fact, you’re so fuckin’ obvious I was afraid you’d forget where you left the stuff, or lose the key or something.
You’ve
got a right to remain silent. Anything you say can and
will
be used against you at a trial in a fuckin’ court of law. You got a right to an
attorney
, and if you can’t
afford
an attorney, us long-suffering good and noble taxpayers’ll go out and treat you to the best fuckin’ shyster we can find. I think you also got a right to have your head tested, and in your case, I think you oughta, see if there’s anything in it at all.”
    â€œI wanna make my phone call,” Russell said. The agents urged him toward the door.
    â€œThey got a real nice phone in the Marshal’s office, my friend,” the agent said. “It’s a great little instrument. You can call any place in the country on it. That’s if youknow how to dial. If you don’t know how to dial, we’ll teach you how to do it. If you call long distance, we’ll put it on your bill.”
    â€œThanks,” Russell said.
    â€œBuddy,” the agent said, “don’t thank me. I think you’re gonna be surprised when you get that bill. You’re goin’ in for all day on this one, my friend. Unless of course your friend down there in New York figured out how stupid you really are, and sold you quinine or something. All’s well that ends well, right, my friend?”
    â€œShut up,” Russell said.
    The