The Alamo by Mark Dawson

Author:Mark Dawson [Dawson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unputdownable
Published: 2017-06-12T06:00:00+00:00

Milton headed back to the station house on Sutter Avenue once more. He parked in the same spot as yesterday evening, made his way into the derelict building and back up to the window where he could surveil the precinct house. It was midday when he took up his position again. He had stopped in a 7-Eleven to pick up a sandwich and a bottle of water and to use the restroom. He was ready to stay up here and watch for as long as it took.

He had been waiting for four hours when he saw the officer who had driven the black man home and then returned to the precinct last night. He arrived at the precinct in the same Ford F-150, backing the big truck into the narrow lot so that it was perpendicular to the building and aligned with the other cars that were already there. Milton watched as the cop got out of the truck and disappeared into the building, and then settled back down to wait a little longer.

Another five minutes passed. Two more cars pulled up and parked. The second, a grey Ford Fusion, backed into the spot next to the first cop’s car. Milton watched and saw a younger man with a shock of bright blond hair step out, lock the car and then make his way into the precinct. He recognised him, too: it was the officer who had been in the patrol car with the first man.

He reached into his pocket and took out the GPS trackers. He took out the industrial-strength double-sided tape that had come with the units, tore off the backing strips and stuck a piece on each one. He switched the trackers on, went to the back of the room and climbed down into the yard. He jumped down the last few feet and hurried around the block to Sutter Avenue.

He idled for a moment, waiting for a female cop to lock her car and head into the building. Milton looked up and down the street and, satisfied that he was alone, walked toward the Ford truck. He took out the first tracker, peeled off the backing from the adhesive tape on the back of the case and, with a final check that he wasn’t being observed, reached down beneath the rear fender and pressed the device against the chassis.

Milton went to the Fusion. He checked up and down the street again and, still satisfied that he was not being watched, secured the second tracker.

He continued walking away from the cars and the buildings.

He had been quick: setting the trackers had taken less than thirty seconds.

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