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The plane hit the tarmac of Detroit Metro
Airport, and a man of slender build shuffled his way past the other passengers
and airhostesses, he gets to the door and brushes his already crinkled black
suit down and neatly places his also
black dusty fedora on his head.
The man pauses for a moment and takes a look at
the airport, with airport workers rushing around the tarmac doing their
numerous duties. He then turns to look at the booming skyscrapers and big
bright magnificent lights of Detroit
City and takes a deep
breath.
H eventually progresses down the steps leading
from the Russian plane and advances slowly through the airport looking and
studying the people greeting and saying goodbye to their friends and families.
The man reaches the immigration point, where
the woman at the desk takes his papers and reads them carefully, looking at the
picture and back at the man, she looks back at him in a quizzical manner.......
"Vitali Demochev???"
The man known as Vitali looks at her and gives a quick cheesy grin... "Da!".
The woman stamps his papers and passes them
over and demands in a stern voice.. "Next!"
Vitali takes back his obviously forged
immigration papers that were made in a dusty and dilapidated basement in
downtown Moskva.
He ventures out into the cold breezy
atmosphere of Detroit
and takes his coat from over his arm and puts it on, and wraps his scarf around
the rough, broken skin of his neck.
Vitali looks up at the sky and takes another
deep breath, turning he whistles and waves for a cab to take him to his life of
crime in the land of opportunity. |
