Scarcity (Jack Randall #3) by Randall Wood Page B

young waitress approach. He preferred other indulgences over beer.
    Fifteen minutes later, the dot on the screen began to move.
    “There’s our boy. What do you want to do?”
    Jimmy chewed slowly and watched the dot move toward the business loop. The range of the tracker covered most of North America, so he wasn’t worried about losing him. After a few minutes, his suspicions were confirmed.
    “He’s heading south toward DC. Let’s just watch him and see where he goes. If he stays in DC today, we’ll move down there, too. I want to track every address he goes to for more than twenty minutes. One of them should have our target.”
    Manuel nodded in agreement. Jimmy had taught him to work smarter, not harder, and this was another lesson. This way they could track the Interpol agent right to the target without the risk of being seen. It was so simple it was stupid, as Jimmy liked to say.
    Jimmy pulled his eyes from the screen and drained his beer. Since it looked like they were staying for awhile, Manuel signaled the waitress for another round.
    “Thirsty work?” the waitress asked.
    “Yes, it is.” Jimmy smiled.
    The waitress saved her smile for Manuel before she turned and walked toward the bar. Manuel enjoyed the view while Jimmy’s eyes returned to the screen.
    •      •      •
    The target they spoke of was being treated to a fast food meal at a small row house in suburban DC. It was one of many since his late night trip to the house, and he was far from happy about it.
    Angel sat at the table and ignored the bag of cold tacos that had been dropped in front of him and instead contemplated the two Marshals sitting across from him. The younger, muscular one, Jake, added hot sauce to his pile before crossing the room and flopping into an old recliner in front of the TV. The older and fatter one was Charlie, and he ignored Angel’s stare while he ate. He had been paired with these two for the last few days, ever since his midnight flight into Andrew’s Air Force base. A half dozen vans had all departed the base at once, heading in all different directions. The one carrying him had been cleared of tails and after a two-hour wandering trip around the DC area, it had deposited him in this row house. He had been remotely visited by several agents who questioned him for hours in the basement in front of a camera. The video feed had landed him in front of a grand jury for another few hours, and he had been led through the questions by the federal prosecutor. It had just gotten worse every day. He was ready for it to be over so he could get away from his handlers, especially when they insisted on feeding him this slop.
    “Enjoying this are you? Think this is funny?”
    The old Marshal chewed slowly and contemplated Angel from the other end of the table before replying. “Yeah, I do.”
    Angel sneered and shook his head.
    “How long you been a Marshal?”
    “Eight years. Twenty years in the army before that.”
    Angel looked to the younger one sitting in the chair.
    “How about you, kid?”
    “What?”
    “How long you been a Marshal?”
    “Four years.”
    “And how much you make a year?”
    “Sixty k.”
    Angel shook his head again. The older Marshal put down his taco and glared at him. He had made it clear to Angel from the start of all this that he didn’t like him, and he wasn’t in the mood for his condescending questions.
    “So go ahead and tell us how stupid we are, asshole.”
    “I didn’t say that. I’m just thinking that since we’re both working for the same people, I sure got the better end of the deal.”
    “I don’t work for any drug dealer, and I sure as hell don’t work with you.”
    “I didn’t say you worked with me. I said we both work for the same people.”
    The younger one didn’t take his eyes off the football game on the screen, but he couldn’t resist taking the bait. “How you figure that?”
    Angel was genuinely shocked. He looked from one to the other in