Djibouti (2010)
“Now they were showing the inscription inside the shoes: By Appointment to His Royal Highness Prince of Wales. R. E. Tricker, Shoe Manufacturers Ltd. Now they were throwing away their sandals.
Dara and Xavier were in her hotel suite watching footage.
“About when we got there, the boys lookin down at their kicks, grinnin,” Xavier said, “pokin each other. ‘Look at mine.’ They all wearin the same brown wingtips. How’d Idris know their sizes?”
“I don’t know if he asked them or took a guess. I’m using the spy pen at the party,” Dara said, “only the second time for a film, after I shot the guys aboard the gas ship. I still wasn’t sure it would give me what I want.”
“You said long as you facin what you shootin.”
“I know, but I still try to be so casual about it. What I got of the two Saudis looks great.”
“They kept duckin out on me. Did not want to be in a movie.”
“And I got them at the party.”
Xavier said, “Where are they?” looking at the laptop.
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