The game was up. They couldn’t act oblivious anymore. “We’re going in the next alleyway,” Chief said quickly to Joe. “Get ready to run.” 

“But, Chief,” Joe spluttered. “It’s too hot out. And besides, the last time I ran was in the sixth grade.” 

Chief rolled his eyes. “Joe, how in the world did you even get on this team? It’s supposed to be elite.” 

“My irresistible charm and dashing good looks?”

“That was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh.”

Chief took an abrupt right into an alleyway separating two restaurants and broke into a sprint. “Here we go,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Keep up, Joe!” 

If this was going to work, they needed to stick out less, so as Chief ran, he peeled off his suit coat and tie and threw them in an open dumpster in the alley. Chief glanced behind him.

Joe was lumbering a few hundred feet behind, his mouth open like a fish gasping for breath. Joe mimicked Chief and pulled off his suit coat and loosened his tie, but his arm got caught in his sleeve and he tripped and crashed into the brick wall. He bounced up and jammed his coat and tie into the dumpster. 

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