Jack sauntered down the sidewalk looking as if he had all the time in the world. An especially observant person might have noticed the way he was nervously fiddling with something in his pocket. Or they might have noticed the way he was studying those around him in the reflections in the shop glass as he passed. They might even have noticed the slight bulge under his right arm that pulled his jacket tight in an ever-so-slightly odd way. But no one near Jack had any reason to even so much as glance at him let alone observe the details that set him apart from the other people on the lunchtime-busy sidewalk. His anonymity was complete.

Or so he thought.

The buildings across the street were all mirrored glass curtain wall construction. That mirrored glass concealed a number of things. A lunchtime tryst, embezzlement, a senior manager watching porn. But only one of those concealed things would have been of any concern to Jack had he only known. That one thing was a very sharp pair of eyes watching Jack. They followed his every move and noticed everything, missed nothing. Scratching at the mole on his cheek, the furtive look in his eyes as reflected in the shop windows, the slight bulge under his jacket. Everything was seen, nothing missed, everything noted, no detail too small to write down.

Jack checked his appearance one more time in the flower shop window. Seeing nothing he liked, he gave the item in his pocket one more squeeze, the edges and corners digging into his hand. A glance at his watch, a surreptitious touching of the object under his right arm and he started off down the street with a purpose. The eyes across the street followed him as he wove through the crowds wondering where he was bound. A hand rested on a phone as he neared the intersection, ready to dial should he deviate from his straight line. But deviate he didn't until he stopped in front of a nondescript set of doors in a blank wall.

The watching eyes registered surprise as Jack stopped. Then the eyes shifted to the adjacent computer screen and the keyboard clattered briefly. Google maps didn't have anything useful to say about the location where Jack stopped. No information was about what was in the building was forthcoming.

He knocked at the door and waited, his agitation increasing as time dragged. The inner door opened and Jack drew a simple horizontal arc on the glass of the outer door. The person on the other side of the photo-reactive and touch-sensitive glass made a corresponding gesture and opened the outer door. Jack entered the calm, cool, and quiet interior and let the tension drain from his shoulders.

Helping hands divested him of his jacket and he let the cross that he'd held under his arm swing around to his chest where he could see it if he looked down. He withdrew the crucifix from his pocket and held it before him in his clasped hands as he entered the sanctuary.

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