Sanders watched the two men come out of the church. This had gone far easier than he thought. He had bugged the man’s car last night and heard one side of the conversation. This prisoner was willing to confess and that was good enough for him. The time to act was now. He pulled out from the spot and cut the smaller car off.
Winton stopped and honked. When the big vehicle didn’t move he cut on the hidden flashers and stepped out of the car with one hand on his pistol. “You need to move your car sir.” He said in his best cop voice. The driver’s side popped open and a man that looked like he could have been Triple H’s brother stepped out. Shielded by his door he drew his piece but kept it out of sight. “I said you need to move sir. You’re interfering with police business.”
“Sorry Detective. FBI.” Sanders fixed his best smile on. “Can I reach for some identification?” He held his hands up slightly at chest level.
FBI? Interesting. “Slowly.” He watched the stranger dip inside his jacket and produce a small black badge case. “Toss it on my hood.” The wallet thumped on metal near the windshield. Lee grabbed it with his left hand. It certainly looked legitimate. “Okay Agent Peterson, what can we do for you?”
“We have an interest in the person you’re holding in your car. We believe he was an associate of Walter James Owen and may have some knowledge that will help us in a case. We were in the process of building a case against Owen when he was killed.” He came a step closer to Winston.
“Why don’t you stay right where you are. No offense.” Something didn’t feel right about this. He was sure that this car was following him this morning. But if he was he sure as hell wouldn’t admit to it.
“None taken.” Sanders annoyance level was rising, but he kept it in check.
“Right now this man is my prisoner. I certainly can’t just hand him over to you. Not without checking out your story. Maybe I can call back to the station and have them run your badge. If that checks out then you follow me back and we let the DA hash out sticky things like jurisdiction.” He tossed the badge case into his care without taking his eyes off of the big man.
Matt watched and listened to the conversation. He didn’t like the situation any more than Detective Winston. There wasn’t much he could do in cuffs, so he prayed silently and kept his eyes on the confrontation.
Sanders took his sunglasses off and slipped them inside his jacket. “See that could be a problem. We are up a bit of a crunch time wise. I need to take this young man into my custody. It’s very important.”
Something in the “agent’s” eyes made Lee Winston’s stomach lurch. “I’m sorry if it’s an inconvenience, but I can’t risk releasing this man. He’s a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation. We have to go.” He slipped into his seat and closed the door, his left hand hitting the lock button in the same motion. His pistol went onto the seat beside him.
“We need to get out of here.” Matt spoke from the back seat. “He is bad news.” Matt had seen something familiar in the huge man’s eyes.
Lee looked back. “No shit Sherlock. Now shut up and let me drive.” A loud rap caused them both to start. Peterson or whatever his name was, was kneeling down head even with Lee’s. If that fucker was an FBI agent then Lee was Mayor McCheese.
“Let me have him.” He was certain that the young man in the back was his target. And if he wasn’t, well the thought of killing a more challenging target than a defenseless pre-pubescent got his blood warmed up. His answer was smoking tires.
Lee had thrown the car into reverse and stomped on the gas, nearly running over the crazy man’s feet. Winston could have sworn that his eyes changed color in that brief second. He stepped on the brakes and cut the wheel hard left. A flick of the shifter and another stomp and they accelerated toward another exit from the parking lot.
Sanders swore loudly in a tongue rarely heard on this continent, or in this millennia. He had moved too quickly. Well there was nothing to do now but give chase. He ran to his vehicle and maneuvered it onto the main street. By that time the detective was out of site. He pushed a button on his cars dash and the GPS lit up. The bug he had planted was also a tracking device. The range on it was only a few miles, but that should be enough. He took a course parallel to the one his quarry was on.
“Well, isn’t this just a peach?” Lee looked into his rearview at Matt. “You know that guy?”
Matt thought for a second. “No. I’ve never seen him before.”
“You hesitated. That’s not good. Now is the time to engage in some truth telling. Do you know who he is?” Lee’s voice rose a little on the last three syllables.
Matt smiled a strange little smile. “No I don’t but I have a feeling I know who he works for.”
“Who? Oh, probably Owen. I figure he tailed me to get to whoever killed his boss.”
“Owen? No not Owen. Though I expect that they work for the same entity.” Matt closed his eyes and began to focus his attention on relaxing. It wasn’t easy, but as a sniper he had learned some biofeedback and other techniques that helped. He needed to at least slip these cuffs to his front.
“Entity. Interesting choice of words. Well we’ll see.” Lee grabbed his radio. “Dispatch this is Detective Winston. I am being pursued by a dark green late model Ford SUV. No plate number. We’re headed ummm west on Queen Street near the four hundred block. Request backup units.”
A woman’s voice answered. “Affirmative Detective. Attention all units, any cars in the vicinity of East Queen Street, please be advised, officer needs assistance.”
He hung the mic back on its hook. There was no sign of his being followed, so he slowed a bit, still going well above the speed limit with his flashers on. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you to the station house safe and sound.” He looked back and saw Matt contorting. “What the hell are you…” A flash of dark green in his rearview cut him off. “Fuck me. How did he find us?” He pressed the accelerator to the floor. This street ran straight as an arrow for at least another few blocks. Thankfully there was no traffic right now. Headlights filled his rearview and the car shuddered as metal kissed metal.
Sanders had hoped to cut him off but hadn’t been fast enough. He prepared to ram the car in front of him again when it changed lanes and slowed radically. According to his readout Winston had cut down a side street and was going in the opposite direction now. The huge vehicle came up on two wheels as he executed a bootleg turn.
“This is not going to end well.” Matt now had his hands in front of him.
“Don’t worry. We lost him.” Winston had cut a zig zag pattern and pulled over. He checked his pistol and then looked back at his prisoner. “Cute trick. Don’t do anything else funny and stay back there. I’d hate to shoot you. I think you did the world a favor. Still taking you in alive though.” He grabbed his mic. “Dispatch, Detective Winston. I have a suspect in the Owen’s homicide in custody. Please send backup to 1200 South Wayne.”
Both men heard the sudden acceleration, but had no time to react. Sander’s truck slammed into the front quarter panel of Winston’s car, driving it up onto the sidewalk. As soon as everything came to a complete stop Sanders jumped free. He saw that the Detective was stretched out across the front seat. He looked at the back seat and Matt was up against the door, eyes closed.
Sanders tried the back door and it was locked or jammed. The front was probably jammed as well. He looked around and saw that the yards were deserted. Most of the houses were run down and looked deserted. He went around to the back of his SUV and opened the door. A quick feel under the carpet and he had the tire iron. When he came back to the policeman’s car he saw that the front passenger’s side door was open. He could no longer see Matt in back.
He tightened his grip on the tire iron and ran at the car. He leaped, planting his left hand on the roof and vaulted over it. The motion was smooth and the landing just has smooth.
Matt knelt by the rear tire. The sound of Sanders landing right behind him shocked him into motion. He spun and kicked out his right foot at the larger man’s knee. It connected, but felt like hitting a tree. Still, the kick was good and Sander’s leg buckled a little.
Pain radiated out from the point of contact. Sanders swung the short, thick bar, but his target moved too quickly.
Techniques practiced time and again came back to Matt easily. Move Archangel, move. If this individual hit him once that would be it. He came to his feet, knees bent. “You’re not gonna beat me.”
“Oh I will not only beat you, I will crush you utterly.” He feinted with his right hand and kicked out with his left foot.
Matt took a step back and away avoiding the kick, delivering his own. The return kick connected, but not as well as his initial blow. He had the benefit of surprise on that one, but no more. The big blond was fast and strong. Time to play the ace. He danced back and pulled the pistol from his front waist band. The cuffs got in the way a little, threatening to get hung on his shirt. The gun had slid onto the pavement when he opened the car door and he had the presence of mind to grab it. “Don’t move. You know I’m not afraid to put your kind down.”
Sanders stopped and cocked his head. “My kind? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” He dropped the tire iron. “You have the upper hand my friend. I don’t even know your name.”
“And you won’t. I should shoot you right here and now. You were going to kill me and Detective Winston.” Indecision raged through him. He didn’t want another death on his head right now. “But I’m in enough trouble right now.” He lowered the pistol. There was an unmistakable glint of joy in the other man’s eyes. It was replaced by intense pain as a shot rang out. Matt had fired into his right leg, just above the knee. “Still I can’t have you following me.”
The unmistakable sound of police sirens rang out clearly in the near distance. Sanders had gone down on one leg. He relished the pain, savoring it like a prime cut of beef. He watched as the young man ran, jumping a short, chain link fence and sprinting across the brown yard. Once he was out of sight, Sanders stood. It hurt, but not as bad as the punishment that awaited him for failure. The pistol’s caliber was small and judging by the pain it had caught only meat. He walked quickly, limping somewhat. By the time the police arrived they found only Detective Winston.
