43
“Here they come!” Keith said. He and Aubrey sat, unobtrusively in his own car, waiting across the street from the restaurant. “Can everyone see them?” he asked.
There were two confirmations. One of Officer Trevor Perkins disguised as a painter scouring the front of a shop two buildings to the right of the restaurant; and one confirmation came from Jaelan McCourty and Liam Wingfeld, two cops sitting together in an unprinted white van parked to the left of the restaurant. Both men were supposedly sitting at their leisure for lunch.
“I only see Yücel,” Aubrey said. She sat up. Her eyes widened. “Where are the other two? Guys? Does anyone see the other two?” she asked worriedly.
“They’re walking to that blue car,” Keith said. He read the license plate data and asked Whitaker to check th
