Cupertino, California | July 2016
Christ, it was hot. Reminded him of Costa Rica, minus the humidity. He could live with dry heat, at least. As he made his way to the meeting place, he checked his watch. 12:30. If his contact wasn't already there, they would be there soon. Jon picked up his pace. His eyes were drawn to an old, dilapidated ad on the side of a building. One half showed a parent and their child rolling in a Gyrosphere among grazing herbivores, while on the other was a snapshot of the Mosasaurus leaping from the water to snag a shark for a snack; in the center separating them was that familiar logo with a skeletal Tyrannosaurus.
Jon stepped into the shop, and was greeted by a young barista. "Hi, there, what can I get you?"
"Just a small iced coffee for now." He glanced around at the other patrons. None of them really stood out. But what was he expecting? His contact to look like some secret agent?
"Mr. Taylor, I presume?"
Jon turned to see a woman dressed in a simple blouse and slacks. She was tall, with a tanned complexion, and brown hair and eyes.
"That's correct. And you are?"
"All in good time, Mr. Taylor."
"Please, Mr. Taylor was my father. Jon is fine." He paid for his coffee. "Are we waiting on someone else?"