Right under my nose in my hometown. How could Mangialardo’s have gotten by me all these years? How could I have gotten by without Mangialardo’s all these years??
The comm was no chicken feed. Mangialardo’s is the bomb.
Lunch hour at this sandwich-shrine brings a crowd of uniforms – deep blue with badges and starched white with ruddy winter-shaved cheeks. Calmly enraptured they stand with tickets pinched between first fingers and thumbs. Our encounter could have been a dead-drop, not a word spoken or glance exchanged. Gum shoe it to the counter, order the G-Man as instructed, step aside and wait.
Sorted throught my pocket litter to peel a little cabbage.
Mental note: Never travel without my peep. Heidi is one high-class walk-in with a good eye.
Postscript: Sent an alert to the spouse of my source.
The wife: Roger, Wilco. 10-4! Glad you liked it. I will grab the E (for enforcer) and show him.
The Lunch Encounter: You quack me up. May I post your comments?
The wife: Affirmative.
The Lunch Encounter 
In plaintext, I was happy to run perimeter surveillance, and partake of a meatball sub! Just glad I didn’t have to pull a roscoe in the process.
Wow. A Roscoe! Grab your piece, girl, and let’s go out on reconnaissance!
In DC? 13th and Penn in DC?