The line in the cafÃ© was not that long and he was able to get what he wanted quickly. It wasnâ€™t too crowded either which was also very nice so he didnâ€™t have to add that to his seemingly ever growing list of worries that has pretty much formed itself the past two days.  He just ordered a sandwich, which was ham and mozzarella cheese on a pretzel roll (his favorite thing since heâ€™s been in the States), and a ginger ale. Grabbing a newspaper he sat away from everyone else and began to look through it while he waited for his food to be done. He had ordered the bread to be toasted so it would be a few minutes before it was ready; a hot ham and cheese sandwich was a hell of a lot better than a cold one at least in his opinion.<br/><br/>He loved the way the melted cheese and warm ham tasted together. It was almost like a little slice of Heaven, unless they put tomatoes on it. He hated tomatoes; he made damn sure that none were put on the sandwich.<br/><br/>Newspapers were an excellent source to find jobs. It might not be written in plain sight that someone was looking for a hitman, there were often signs he looked for in order to put the puzzle together. What he had to be careful about was sometimes the cops would use those as well. Being a hitman was a great source of income but killing someone was illegal and considered murder, thus making all hitmen criminals to some degree. Maybe it was not quite like that but he kept it in the back of his mind whenever he was looking for jobs. There have been a few times where heâ€™s had close calls with the cops because he had been set up, mainly by his enemies. He was not seeing anything that might set off an alarm that a cop might be setting someone up, thankfully.<br/><br/>There were a few jobs that seemed promising but he would not know for sure until he called and found out. He jotted the numbers along with a few notes on a napkin and stuffed it in his pocket right when he was informed his food was ready. Folding the paper up neatly, he pushed it to the side and took the sandwich from the man behind the counter, ginning faintly and mouthing a silent â€˜thank youâ€™ before he went back to his seat. He ate slowly, pulling the paper back over to him and looking through a few more things. If there were any more jobs hidden in there they would be hard to find from the looks of things. Either that or there really was not a lot to choose from. Only a few more names stuck out to him and he pulled the napkin back out and wrote them down.<br/><br/>Once he was finished his food he threw away the aluminum foil and dirty napkins used to wipe his mouth, finishing off what was left of the ginger ale and tossing the bottle in the recycling bin. He would look into that later. For now he would go home and call Roy again, to see what his next plan of action is. Might as well go along with this for as long as he can before something better showed up, he thought to himself. But then his mind went back to Jonah. Usually he would call or something, this was beginning to get very odd. Perhaps he should give him a call himself later, once he got back home and spoke with Roy.