After waiting for nearly an hour, a truck from the cleaning company stopped behind Jimmy's car. Two young Mexican men and a bald white old man got out.
I don't know if it's the rule of the Intercontinental Hotel, but it seems that every time you call to order food, the people who come are always an old man with a few younger ones, the same setup in several cities.
Jimmy got out of the car, waved, and greeted them, then opened the garage door. "Take care of the stuff in the trunk, and if possible, take this car away too. It needs to be destroyed." He handed a prepared coin to the old man, "Thank you for your hard work."
The old man smiled and said, "It's an honor to serve you. Young fellows, let's get to work."
Jimmy stepped back a little, watching them enter the garage, pulling down half of the rolling shutter door, and starting to lay down plastic sheets and cling film on the ground, beginning to organize.
