We had been on the road for a couple of hours when I farted.

“Really?”

“Sorry. I guess I overdid it yesterday with the tapas.”

“Dude!”

It was pretty bad, I had to admit.

We had started off hesitantly, not sure if we could trust each other. After an hour of talking shop, we reached an understanding. I would not say we were besties, but we did talk about playing Brookside the next time we were both in LA.

I would not have taken him for a 10 handicap.

I had done some research on the Internet in the morning while waiting for my new golfing buddy and the rental car. Sally had given me the clues but I had been too stupid to put the pieces together.

As he drove north on the AP-66, I went back over the plan in my head to make sure there weren’t any holes. The key was to arrive at the right time. If we missed our window, we might not get another opportunity.

Luckily, traffic was light, so we arrived in Oviedo with plenty of time. We went straight to the Hotel De La Reconquista and checked in. Separate rooms, of course. Since we had a little time, I walked the two blocks to the Campo San Francisco and took a picture with Mafalda for good luck.

I walked back to the hotel and went straight to the concierge desk to check on our request. Luckily, or maybe thanks to the 100 Euro tip we promised him, the concierge had our tickets and our suits.

I took them and headed upstairs to Rory’s room. We had settled on Rory as his code name after I refused to call him Tiger. I think he appreciated the fact that I didn’t want to hate him.

“You know, I was kinda hoping this wasn’t going to work. I can’t stand opera.”

“Trust me, I’d rather not do it this way, but this is our shot.”

After we changed, we went downstairs and walked out into the cool evening. We joked about not having to worry about walking alone through the park. If some idiot tried to mug us, he would be in for a hell of a surprise!

From our box seats, we had a great view of the entire theater. It was the box closest to the stage at the very top. Ordinarily the shittiest seats in the house but the best for finding people.

We showed up about 45 minutes early so we could scout out the place and prepare our approach should the plan work. I started getting nervous with about ten minutes left until the performance was scheduled to start. Did they decide not to go? It was opening night! They HAD to be there!

With 7 minutes to spare, I spotted them. She was walking down the aisle to a seat in the front row. He was walking slightly in front as he should have been.

“You saw that right?”

“Yup! First intermission?”

“Yeah, but we need to leave the box in time to get down there. How are we going to do that?”

“You are actually thinking of staying up here and watching this?”

“Oh shit. My bad. You’re right. You know, I should have known. All you assassins are pretty smart.”

“How many of us do you know?”

“Probably more than I should.”

“Fair enough.”

We walked out of the box as the lights flickered. A few stairs later, we were at the bar on the bottom floor.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing yet. I may need to use my skills if this doesn’t work.”

“I really don’t think it will come to that, but okay.”

I ordered a martini and instantly regretted it.

“¡Perdón! Olvide el martini. Un whisky.”

The bartender pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.

“Good enough”, I said to no one in particular.

***

The lights dimmed in the theater as my whisky arrived. The doors closed and I found a bench to sit at. Rory found another bench at the opposite end of the foyer.

In about 20 minutes, I finished my drink and got another. This was definitely the way to attend the opera.

Time crawled a little more slowly. I started falling asleep just like I would have inside the theater when I noticed the bartenders starting to prep. The first intermission was near. I motioned over to Rory and he gave me a short nod.

As the doors opened and the applause slowed down, I made my way inside and stood against the wall to the left of the walkway. I could see them both perfectly.

He stood up, ever the gentleman, and started walking up the aisle. I texted Rory. After he exited the doors, I made my way down the walkway. I found a seat on the left side of the aisle where I could see her and waited. She was nicely made up and was wearing a very fancy dress.

I could tell she was used to having money. She seemed comfortable in this environment with this particular man in this particular place. Some things just fit, you know.

My phone buzzed. I got up and walked to the aisle and got to the front row.

As quietly and discreetly as possible, I made my way to the seat next to her and sat down before she noticed.

“Hi! Surprised to see me?”

I tried to sound as cheery as possible. She turned around and her face showed extreme dissatisfaction. If I had a penny…

“How the hell?”

“I’m pretty good. That’s why you hired me.”

“Where is Franco? Have you done anything to him?”

“Do not worry. He is fine. It looks to me like he is a smart man. I’m sure he went with my buddy quietly and without fuzz. Shall we go join him?”

“What is happening? What are you doing?”

“Relax. I’m on your side. Even if you had Franco hit me with a cast iron pan”

“I’m not a monster! It was T-Fal!”

“I guess I should say thanks?”

“It could have been worse.”

“I know. And, like I said, I’m on your side here. Shall we?”

“Where are we going?”

“I figured you and Franco would be okay with the Reconquista. Fancy enough?”

“I guess it will do.”

She grabbed her bag and got up. I got up too and then followed her up the aisle.

The short walk back to the hotel was uneventful but pretty. The night lights were on and the area was beautifully lit.

“This place must look gorgeous in Christmastime.”

“I expect so. Franco tells me it’s magical.”

We arrived quickly even though she was wearing heels. I led her to the elevator and hit the button. We exited and turned left towards Rory’s room.

I knocked three times. He replied in a sing song voice.

“Whooooo is it???”

I replied in a falsetto voice, “Housekeeping!”

He opened the door and we walked in. Franco was sitting at the table smoking a cigar. Rory gave a look that said everything had gone smoothly.

Sally went directly to Franco and asked him if he was okay.

“Of course. You know these people?”

He said it in the condescending way the upper class uses everywhere in the world.

“I know one but I don’t know the other. Who are you?”

I stepped in.

“Sally, you already know I am the man sent by an asshole Beverly Hills lawyer to find you and to report on your whereabouts. Franco, my pal here Rory Not His Real Name is the man hired by the same asshole lawyer from Beverly Hills to kill your lovely Sally.”

I gave him a piece of paper with a couple of dollar amounts.

“We don’t know you but we like your lovely Sally. We would like to help you both live happily ever after here in the beautiful north of Spain. For the low low prices on that piece of paper, we can arrange it so no asshole Beverly Hills lawyers ever bother you again.”

Franco took a lungful of smoke and slowly hissed it out.

“No.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rory pointing one gun at Sally and another at Franco. Both silencers were attached.

“¡Cómo es obvio cuando el dinero no es de familia! Los dos se merecen. Les voy a dar una última oportunidad. Piénsenlo bien. Los próximos que vendrán no serán tan buena gente como nosotros.”

“No.”

I looked at Rory and nodded. He pulled both triggers.