tailed.
Fluke had to remind himself that Johnson wasn’t a native of the Twin Cities. He couldn’t be expected to know the best routes or how to direct Mabel to them, and Mabel wouldn’t be taking any initiative while under a puppet master’s control. The blue Toyota had backtracked a couple times after making turns onto one-way streets going the wrong directions, or dead-ending altogether. Fluke had known better than to follow them down the last one and idled at the curb where he could watch the corner where they’d have to emerge again after turning around when they hit the dead end.
David sat beside him, muttering, keeping everyone apprised of their location and ready to meet them when they determined just where Rachel and the board members were held. The information seemed all too slowly gained by tracking their quarry to his destination.
What happened with Rachel during the endless minutes they followed Johnson/Mesmero to his lair? Fluke’s only comfort remained the certainty he’d know if any harm came to her. He focused on the task at hand. Mabel obviously drove with no consciousness of the possibility of being followed. She stopped in the middle of the road several times, as if needing direction for every turn.
On the cusp of dawn, the traffic had yet to reach full morning rush hour proportions, but enough cars filled the downtown area through which they passed to make the going even more frustratingly slow.
At last, the downtown area behind them, they proceeded more speedily down Broadway into the warehouse district. Fluke almost missed it when the Toyota made an abrupt left hand turn onto a side street.
He spun the wheel, skidding into the turn. Horns blared as he cut across the oncoming lane and reached the side street just in time to see the tail lights of the blue car disappear into an alley between a pair of red brick buildings occupying an entire city block from one street to the next.
Fluke pulled in beside the nearest building, just short of the alley and shared a look with David before the two men exited both sides of the car at the same time. David put a finger to his lips and gestured to the alley. Fluke moved silently to the corner, crouching to peer around it.
Johnson stood on a loading dock, alone at the door, apparently fumbling for keys. Mabel and Tamara must still be in the car. He could see the rear of it, parked beyond the cement block of the loading dock. David took a quick look, and then muttered to his specs.
Fluke picked up the alert via his feed. “You’ve got my location? Converge from all sides. Keep some distance. The puppet master needs physical contact to do a take-over. I’m going in now.”
“Let me go first,” Fluke turned to him, voice hushed. “I’ll distract him, so you can get in close with the tranq.”
“She’s my sister.” David’s mouth made a grim line. Fluke figured he had more than a tranq in mind for Johnson.
“I love her too,” Fluke said, and then sauntered around the corner, thumbs hooked in the belt of his Levi’s. He called out to Johnson. “Hey, I’ve got a couple questions for you, buddy.” He kept walking at a leisurely pace, closing the distance, trusting David to hang back for now, trusting his luck on more than one count.
Johnson turned to him, scowling, and then assumed a friendlier expression. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Cut the crap, Johnson. You know I’m with Team Guardian and I know you took my girl. What have you done with her?”
“She’s right in here, but I’m having some trouble with the key. Maybe you can help me out?” He beckoned Fluke closer.
Fluke mounted the short flight of cement steps to the loading platform and approached Johnson, who extended the jangling key ring to him.
Fluke moved around him, to approach the door from Johnson’s left and Johnson turned, following him, still extending his hand with the key. This put Johnson’s back to the steps and the mouth of the alley where David
Fluke had to remind himself that Johnson wasn’t a native of the Twin Cities. He couldn’t be expected to know the best routes or how to direct Mabel to them, and Mabel wouldn’t be taking any initiative while under a puppet master’s control. The blue Toyota had backtracked a couple times after making turns onto one-way streets going the wrong directions, or dead-ending altogether. Fluke had known better than to follow them down the last one and idled at the curb where he could watch the corner where they’d have to emerge again after turning around when they hit the dead end.
David sat beside him, muttering, keeping everyone apprised of their location and ready to meet them when they determined just where Rachel and the board members were held. The information seemed all too slowly gained by tracking their quarry to his destination.
What happened with Rachel during the endless minutes they followed Johnson/Mesmero to his lair? Fluke’s only comfort remained the certainty he’d know if any harm came to her. He focused on the task at hand. Mabel obviously drove with no consciousness of the possibility of being followed. She stopped in the middle of the road several times, as if needing direction for every turn.
On the cusp of dawn, the traffic had yet to reach full morning rush hour proportions, but enough cars filled the downtown area through which they passed to make the going even more frustratingly slow.
At last, the downtown area behind them, they proceeded more speedily down Broadway into the warehouse district. Fluke almost missed it when the Toyota made an abrupt left hand turn onto a side street.
He spun the wheel, skidding into the turn. Horns blared as he cut across the oncoming lane and reached the side street just in time to see the tail lights of the blue car disappear into an alley between a pair of red brick buildings occupying an entire city block from one street to the next.
Fluke pulled in beside the nearest building, just short of the alley and shared a look with David before the two men exited both sides of the car at the same time. David put a finger to his lips and gestured to the alley. Fluke moved silently to the corner, crouching to peer around it.
Johnson stood on a loading dock, alone at the door, apparently fumbling for keys. Mabel and Tamara must still be in the car. He could see the rear of it, parked beyond the cement block of the loading dock. David took a quick look, and then muttered to his specs.
Fluke picked up the alert via his feed. “You’ve got my location? Converge from all sides. Keep some distance. The puppet master needs physical contact to do a take-over. I’m going in now.”
“Let me go first,” Fluke turned to him, voice hushed. “I’ll distract him, so you can get in close with the tranq.”
“She’s my sister.” David’s mouth made a grim line. Fluke figured he had more than a tranq in mind for Johnson.
“I love her too,” Fluke said, and then sauntered around the corner, thumbs hooked in the belt of his Levi’s. He called out to Johnson. “Hey, I’ve got a couple questions for you, buddy.” He kept walking at a leisurely pace, closing the distance, trusting David to hang back for now, trusting his luck on more than one count.
Johnson turned to him, scowling, and then assumed a friendlier expression. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Cut the crap, Johnson. You know I’m with Team Guardian and I know you took my girl. What have you done with her?”
“She’s right in here, but I’m having some trouble with the key. Maybe you can help me out?” He beckoned Fluke closer.
Fluke mounted the short flight of cement steps to the loading platform and approached Johnson, who extended the jangling key ring to him.
Fluke moved around him, to approach the door from Johnson’s left and Johnson turned, following him, still extending his hand with the key. This put Johnson’s back to the steps and the mouth of the alley where David
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