The ducks kept converging around him in a flurry of feathers and quacking, some bold enough to eat directly at his feet, while others were content with the crumbs scattered farther off. Either way, every scrap of bread he threw was a hit among that little colony.
He was their only source of food today; the cold autumn wind had likely scared off the elderly regulars. It was just him and the ducks—who were starting to grow restless.
KWAK KWAK
Saul tossed another handful of bread before gazing back at the lake. Since his last visit, the city had done some work. Most of the reeds had been uprooted, and a few amphibious excavators were busy dredging the water.
It wasn't exactly the view he'd hoped for, nor was it the reason he had come. After all, he was just here to feed the ducks.
"Patience is the first key."
The ducks didn't seem to agree. Despite the nearly irresistible bread, they retreated to the water, fleeing from the abrupt gusts of cold wind.
He glanced at his watch : 10:44 a.m. Exactly on time for his next task. He stood up before walking away from the bench.
The park's winding paths lay empty, leaves skittering across the concrete like tiny whispers of conversation. It might have looked like a scene from a fairy tale if not for the female jogger appearing in the distance.
"She's less than five minutes late—guess that's a good sign," he thought, watching her slowing to a halt right next to him.
He couldn't afford to be too strict with her, nor too lenient. He had to stay perfectly in the middle, perfectly balanced.
While he was thinking, she handed him a sealed envelope, avoiding his eyes as she scanned the surroundings for anything amiss.
'Still as jittery as ever…' he thought, saying nothing.
The second he took the sealed envelope, she tried to resume her run, wanting to leave as fast as possible.
"Stay low for the next few days, maybe the next few weeks," he called after her, just loud enough to be heard.
She paused before turning around. Surprise flickered in her gaze as she asked in a barely audible whispered, "Why?"
He shrugged indifferently. "Boss's orders. No clue what's going on in his head."
Without another word, she nodded and resumed her run, fading away from his sight in mere seconds.
He opened the envelope as he walked, scanning the extensive informations inside. Only one thing mattered to him among all the intel:
'Serge went to see his psychologist this morning?'
That was unusual and he hated uncertainty. He needed more information to feel at ease, but his risk level was already too high. One misstep could be fatal, especially when so many eyes were already on his trail.
He slipped the envelope into a public trash can as if it were nothing and left the park.
'Normality is the second key,' he reminded himself, 'and by far the most crucial.'
He had to play his role flawlessly, diving straight into the storm with nothing but a faint, naïve smile on his face.