Powers by Brian Michael Bendis

Author:Brian Michael Bendis
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466885646
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

16

December. Tuesday morning. 9:17 A.M.

They loaded her into a truck. It wasn’t much larger than an SUV. He watched them from afar, positioning a telephoto lens through the passenger-side door. His car—nondescript, beige, and badly needing a paint job—lingered on the far end of the avenue, blocked from view by the crowd. The mourners had packed the streets in front of the precinct with camping chairs and pup tents, encircled around podiums and shrines riddled with flowers, photographs, posters, and candles. Blockades of news vans and assorted media helped his car blend in; a phalanx of network reporters kept situating themselves in front of the clunker, obscuring it from any particular line of sight. He didn’t worry, though. They wouldn’t get in his way; he wasn’t watching the precinct.

He observed, instead, the impound lot across the street.

Several cops had escorted the prisoner through an unmarked service entrance—freight or laundry, the man couldn’t be sure—and kept her inside a circle of plainclothes detectives as they casually strolled toward the lot. He recognized one or two—from television, perhaps, the news over the past few days. To be honest, he didn’t know the cops in this city as well as he’d like. But he hadn’t been in town long enough to match faces to names as of yet. Perhaps in due time, should the need arise. He doubted it would. The work was nearly done, and in a handful of days, he planned to disappear as chaos and scandal swirled around the murders. Just as he had ten years earlier.

He looked back at the lot. They’d secured the doors to the truck and were preparing to leave. He started up his car, twisting the ignition, and both gawkers and mourners glanced his way. He waved them aside, silently asking them to let him through. They shrugged and stepped away, barely giving the man a second glance. Why would they? He wasn’t wearing the hood. As far as they knew, Liberty was just another yutz with a POS car.

The truck slid out of the lot and turned left, and Liberty followed, carefully driving through the snow. They wove in and out of traffic. The cops weren’t speeding but were clearly determined to finish their trip as quickly as possible. The Shelf, he thought, or another appropriate, nearby prison. No matter; they won’t reach it, whatever the destination.

The truck turned into a warehouse district, and Liberty followed, gunning the engine and making his move. Carefully, trying not to attract their attention, Liberty inched up and drove alongside the truck. He casually surveyed the driver and noted a second policeman in the passenger seat. I wonder if that’s all. I’d been looking away, so I didn’t see whether any guards had joined her in the back. I suppose I’ll have to be surprised. Won’t that be thrilling?

Liberty accelerated again, easing his car in front of the truck, essentially cutting it off while careful not to skid. He wasn’t driving that fast, but the driver of the truck felt the need to pass.

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