Ionshaker (Part I) - Felix Timothy (ebook reader with internet browser .txt) 📗

it cruise on the big screen..
“He thinks he’s the super smart Harrison Ford in The Fugitive. In that case, let him outsmart the real-life FBI and LAPD, blazing with guns. Jack? Get the chopper! ”Brett called out.
Jack grabbed the phone and within no time a pilot was warming up his helicopter.
“Capt. Beryl Heffner on standby,” Jack said after about a minute. Brett leaned into a mouthpiece to relay the instructions to the pilot.
“Captain, I need you to pursue Trey Woodley, wanted for kidnapping and murder, in a dark-green Ford Explorer on North Alameda heading south. Our guess is, he’s fleeing the city and we need you to stop him. Can you do that?”
“Yes sir.”
“I’m sending his details to your monitor. And captain?”
“Yes?”
“We need him alive.”
“Rodger that.”

* * *

On the ground, the police had spotted the Ford and their sirens were blaring and warning lights flashing. The SUV couldn’t continue on the tarmac for too long, it had to branch immediately. It veered off North Alameda and took East Imperial Highway for a while before ditching it to take a lonely narrow dirt road. The road was well encompassed by trees on each side with the branches forming a thick canopy over it.
Suddenly, the big screen inside the FBI headquarters lost a visual.
“What happened!?” Brett shouted.
“It’s a smaller road,” Shirley answered, “no cameras.”
The SUV had entered Lynwood territory and with the police chase cars considerably a distance behind it, the only chance was to abandon the Ford and disappear in the woods, Vietnam style.

As the SUV rolled to a stop, a thundering FBI helicopter descended from heaven like an alien invader, with its pounding gigantic rotor blades blowing up leaves and litter as they sliced the air. The helicopter hovered next to the Ford.
“Step out of the vehicle with your hands over your head immediately. I repeat, get out of the vehicle now!” Capt. Heffner bellowed through a horn speaker. The driver’s door opened as Brett and his friends at the FBI building were on the edge of their seats waiting to hear the good news.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Captain?” Brett responded quickly.
“Are you seeing this?”
“No, we’ve been cut off. What is it?”
“I’ve got a woman here, looks like a prostitute,” the voice said through the speaker.
“Are you kidding me? Does Trey sound like a woman to you?”
The captain was wasting precious time as Trey slithered away.
“I didn’t send you up there to chase after women. Get back in the air and follow that road, there’s got to be another dark-green SUV on it. If he manages to flee the city because you messed up, I’ll have your head as decoration on my office wall, you hear me captain?” Brett yelled.
“Yes sir.”
“Leave the woman and get back in the air now. The woman is not the suspect. I repeat the woman is not the suspect.”
“Roger that.”
Rosa stared in amazement as the helicopter unexpectedly flew off. As if that wasn’t astonishing enough, the long line of police cars that had been pursuing her sped past her as she watched with her hands still up in the air.

Once in Mexico, she’d sell the dark-green Ford for four grand then give Sophia the cash to start a business. She got back into the SUV, reversed and flattened the accelerator heading in the opposite direction.

* * *

On 101 Hollywood Freeway, there was a major, major crackdown. The police were in full gear, swinging rifles and pulling dogs. A police car overtook a long line of vehicles awaiting inspection and approached the roadblock. An officer at the roadblock pulled the barrier for the oncoming police car to pass.
“Have a good one, officer,” he said to his counterpart in the police car.
“You too, officer,” Trey said, driving past the barrier, wearing the police uniform that Rosa had swiped from Juliana’s house.

Now that LA was no longer habitable for him, he had no chance to find out the truth about the people who killed Brooke. Moreover after learning about Brooke’s secretive nature, he had lost all the motivation to have anything to do with her. For the moment, his greatest concern was to protect Robin Ironside. He would find out more about Al Fakir from San Francisco with the help of his new found ally. He was headed to San Francisco, to join his crew, Robin and Audrey. But reaching his final destination, he’d have to make several stops in order to evade law enforcement agency. He stepped on the gas.


24


Nicole parked her yellow Volkswagen Passatt across 2nd street in Lakewood, Long Beach. She was pursuing the two men with bogus names that she’d met at the junkyard, first in the company of agent Charles from San Francisco then later with Brett. After sketching the face, Shirley ran it through a facial recognition software, after which identifying their real names and pinpointing their hideout was a piece of cake. And the good thing was their location was in Long Beach within Los Angeles County. So it appeared, they were based in LA but they had temporarily set camp in San Francisco to take care of Ironside, and though the contractor was still in San Francisco hunting down Robin Ironside, the coordination of their operations was happening right in Brett Dawson’s backyard.

It was a new building awaiting interior final touches, currently vacant.

After taking a moment at the door to look around, she entered the big, empty, unpainted and unfurnished hall.

Nicole took the stairs and on the first floor, stumbled upon a laptop on a wooden table. It was counting down in some kind of total-erasure program. She ran to the table and tried shutting the laptop down, but she couldn’t.
“A laptop is self-destructing and I can’t stop it,” in a panicky voice, she hurriedly told Shirley over the phone.
“Which type?”
“A Mac.”
“Give me a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute Shirley! Come on, only 27% is remaining,” she urged.
“Is it possible for you to read me the IP address?”
“No, nothing is showing on the screen except the percentage of completed system wipe out.”
“How much data is remaining?”
“21%, we’re losing everything, what should I do?”
“Smash it.”
“What! Are you crazy?”
“You have no choice, stop wasting time and do it right now,” Shirley shouted over the phone.
Immediately, Nicole grabbed the laptop, hurled it to the floor and the Apple product died instantly.
“Done it, now what?”
“You did great,” Brett said, coming in from the Los Angeles Federal Building.
“I hope I didn’t total the hard drive.”
“I hope so too.”
“What’s up?”
She could tell there was something Brett wanted to tell her.
“Your dad.”
“You sound scared… more like you need me?” She asked feeling good about herself. She relished such times when Brett needed her help.
“I’m not scared of your dad and just that we’re clear – I don’t need you,” Brett tried to rationalize.
“Whatever. The fact that you’re emphasizing means you so need me.”
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You bet I am.”
“See you when you get back.”
As soon as Brett hung up, Jack was on him.
“What is it?” He asked.
“A cop has reported his police car stolen.”
Brett chuckled, “Is that even possible?”
“Wonders never end,” Jack said lightly.
“Where?”
“Somewhere close to North Alameda.”
“How long ago?”
“Like two hours ago.”
“Two hours? And I’m hearing about it now!” Brett shouted at Jack.

To learn about Trey’s trick two hours late was a real kick in the teeth. “Get the police car’s GPS marker and initiate a search. Also APB all checkpoints and highway patrol officers with specifications of the car, and call off the air support.”

* * *

The stolen police car pulled outside a convenience store, the officer got out, quickly popped the hood and removed the radiator cap before walking into the store. After getting into the store, he picked up an egg and a pack of mints then walked to the cashier’s counter to pay for the two. Afterwards, he carefully wrapped the egg in a handkerchief, then put the egg in his shirt pocket and asked to see the store’s manager. The cashier pointed to a door and stared at the strange cop in bewilderment as he walked to the door and pushed into the manager’s office.
“Sorry for barging in,” the officer told the manager.
“Oh,” the manager said, reacting to the uniform, “Is something wrong officer?”
“No. I need your help.”
“Have a seat.”

* * *
But who else was like Shirley?
Within minutes she tracked down the police car and notified Brett right away.
“He’s at a convenience store. Its properly listed and I’m dialing the manager now.”
“Brach Paare,” said the voice on the line.
“My name is agent Brett Dawson with the FBI.”
As soon as he heard FBI, Brach looked up; something was up, something big.
“There’s a police car outside your store,” Brett said slowly.
“Yes?” He too responded slowly, cautiously, not knowing what was following.
“Now listen to me carefully and do as I say. The officer in your store is an imposter. He’s a wanted man…”
“Trey Woodley?” The manager interjected.
“Yes, but just act normal. We need you to stall him as much as you can…”
“Its too late for that,” Brach sighed and twisted in his chair as he finished off, “He’s already gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes,” he answered scratching his head.
“I’m currently looking at real-time satellite images of a police car outside your store, what do you mean he’s gone?”
“He took my pick-up truck.”
“He stole your truck?”
“I gave it to him...”
“You what!” Brett snapped.
“He came in here in a uniform and told me he was pursuing a fugitive but his car had stalled. How was I supposed to know he was a fake?”
“Alright,” Brett frowned, “Give me the car details.
Donny Anderson who had been following the investigation, was waiting to debrief Brett over the fiasco and Brett expected Anderson to be nothing but ruthless, brutal even, during the debrief. Nonetheless, Nicole would be there to mitigate. She’d be his only cushion.
But none of them had any idea of the shock awaiting America. They were yet to unveil the real masterminds, fathom the real threat and prepare for Ionshaker. Soon they’d no longer be concerned about Trey, but something far, far much worse. And