A street away from Maribel's home, a man waited in an unmarked bus. A dot was moving randomly on his small laptop, as an x-ray image was being projected on the car screen.
"Okay, people it looks like our job has just become easier. The target is leaving the house, I repeat, the target is leaving the house. We move quickly", the middle-aged man said holding a communication radio.
"Roger that", a voice replied from the radio. The middle-aged man dropped the radio and started the engine, then he tightened his hands on the steering wheel and waited for the young boy who was standing by the street.
"You can't run away from me now boy", the middle-aged man mumbled within his breath with a murderous glint in his eyes. He could not believe it took him close to two years to capture a mere unarmed kid. This was something he never believed would happen to him.
Charles has seen all kinds of people, mafias, gang leaders, cults et cetera. H Because of the nature of his work, he was sometimes made to capture and kill these kinds of people. Most of the trear-mirrorime, it was usually easy to take them out, he just need to make a call, and a hitman would be dispatched to get the job done.
But this case was different. He has dispatched experienced retired soldiers, seasoned gangs, and a series of hitmen, but they ended up either dead or severely injured.
This time, he believed that he would not escape his grasp anymore. He stared intently at the young boy on the street to figure out the time to strike.
Then the boy waved at a taxi, then the cab drove off. Charles then changed the gear and slammed the gas, causing the bus to jerk dangerously. "Now!" He shouted at the radio and sped up the bus.
Then a small bus came from the left of Charles' bus and pursued the cab. By the time they were ten meters from the rear, they slowed down and closely followed carefully. rear-mirror
"What the hell is going on? Take the boy out!" Charles shouted at the radio agitatedly. "Sir, look at the front. We are approaching a checkout point, so we cannot do anything rash for now." A voice replied patiently.
Charles looked ahead of the road. Sure enough, there were four cops ahead of them, two inspecting a car by the side of the road, and two pacing across the road with guns on their hands.
Suddenly, one of the cops flagged Charles down. "F**k!" Charles cursed, but he forced a smile and rolled his window down.
"Hello", a young cop greeted. Charles smiled back and said, "Hello there, policemen. Is there anything wrong?" One of the cops went to the back of the bus and examined the plate number.
"Nothing at all. I just want to know if this vehicle is yours", the policeman replied, looking at Charles in his eyes. Charles was getting agitated. He looked at the cab that was pulling away from him. "Yes, yes sirs, it is mine. I bought this last year", he said quickly.
The cop appeared distrustful, so he asked for his papers. Charles began to sweat. The real owner of this bus was a vintage bus collector, which was one of his former acquaintances. He obtained it after killing him in his home. He liked the bus the moment he set his eyes on it, so he possessed it and parked it in his mansion.
"Sir, can I have the papers?" The cop repeated. Charles frantically searched in the car drawer and fiddled with a series of nylons packed inside. Clearing out the nylons, he saw a roll of documents roughly stacked at the edge of the drawer wall.
Charles sighed in relief, before rolling out the paper. Sure enough, it was the paper that stated the information about the bus. He then shakily handed it to the cop, who took it and examined it carefully. "Sir, we are locked on the target. Shall we proceed?" A voice came out of the radio.
Charles frantically pushed the radio below his thigh. The cop looked up and stared at him. "What was that?" He asked. "Oh no, it's nothing. I...just got a call from work, and they want to speak to me now. Please can we get this over with?" Charles asked desperately. The cop ignored him and continue looking at the paper.
Then the cop left Charles and spoke with his college. Charles groaned with displeasure as he slammed his head on the headrest. 'The pigs should be fast about it!' he thought outrageously.
Five minutes passed, and the cop came over and glared at Charles. Charles's heart skipped one beat. Have they figured out that I wasn't the owner, Charles wondered?
He then placed his hands on the ignition key and waited for the cop to make a move. He could not afford to waste this golden opportunity to capture James and take out the chip once and for all. What is wrong with this boy that we cannot take him out, huh?
The cop then placed his hands on his belt, and Charles waited intently for him to pull out his gun, before making his move. But the cops were only adjusting his trousers.
"You have to renew your license. It is about to expire in two months. And please, repair your stoplights", the cops said and handed the papers back to Charles.
Charles smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir, I will. Goodbye", Charles stared at the engine and drove off the checkpoint. He then glared at his rear mirror that showed the figure of the young policeman. "Don't worry, I'm coming for you", he mumbled, before speeding up the bus.
"Alpha-A, what's your position?" Charles talked over the radio. "Sir, the target is locked. He is residing on this location." Then his laptop beeped and panned to a hotel. "Good, hold on, I'm coming."