Paul didn't say much as he drove. He didn't say much at all. Spike was waiting back at the compound for their arrival. As Paul drove, he concluded that he wasn't being followed and got back onto the main road. It was pouring rain, and water splashed against the wind shield. He drove through the gates into the compound and around to the back of the main housing building. Frankie was on break, as usual, having a smoke under the dim light next to the rear door. Paul stopped the car in front of Frankie and got out, gesturing for the two in the car to follow. He greeted the smoking tiger with a handshake and walked in through the doors.
Meanwhile, Spike had walked through the party of Lombardi players to the back kitchen. They walked past chefs, janitors, and young kids who were hired and thought they could get away with sitting on the job. They immiediatly got back to work when Spike had walked in. Ensuring Kitt was following close behind, they walked through the kitchen and into the back storage room filled with crates, meat hangers, a small desk and empty wooden chair. The small storage room was deserted. The desk and wall were littered with papers and held a small typewriter that kept track of shipment documents. the person who sat at the desk hadn't been gone for too long as a cup of coffee sat on the edge of the table still steaming. Spike took a seat and gestured for Kitt to take a seat on one of the crates.