The Waiting Game

Pretty George stood in the rain, waiting. Like some rock'n'roll god once sang, the waiting is the hardest part. He glanced up at his watch and could see that it was 1 minute past the scheduled meeting.

A grimace appeared on his face, which was rare since he was always in a jovial mood. That meant that one of two things had happened, and the first was impossible since there was no way in hell that someone would not show up.

Once you make a call to Pretty, the wheels are set. 

To make matters worse, some thugs appeared from down the street and saw him standing there with the duffel bag. Pretty George looked up into the night sky and whispered, "You're not going to do this to me now are you?"

He glanced down the street and all his years of dealing and combat training told him that they were going to cause some serious trouble. 

"I guess you made that random encounter roll," he chuckled as he reached inside his long coat and pulled out a squarish device, much akin to a Rubik's cube.