“Isn’t anybody else as excited about this as I am?” Scott’s disbelief was edging into his enthusiasm. He looked at Kat, who shrugged, then turned to me. “What about you?”
I yawned. “It’s a hell of an opportunity. Let’s not screw it up, lest we get six more months of running around the woods, trying to subdue members of M-Squad without hurting them badly.”
“About that,” Kat said, turning to face me. “You got your head on straight? Not gonna go crazy and flatten this meta we’re chasing, are you?”
“Let’s catch him first,” I said, “then I’ll worry about whether I’m gonna put the severe hurt on him or not. After all, we’re basically heading to some town in the middle of nowhere hoping there’s a clue that will lead us on to the next place this person’s gonna strike.”
“Criminals are dumb.” Scott turned the SUV onto US Highway 212, heading east. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”
“You think he left a note that says, ‘Next I turn south and drive 400 miles to Ankeny, Iowa, where I will rob a convenience store and stop to use the potty’?” I rolled my eyes.
“Why do you think they’re sending us to Owatonna if there’s not going to be any clues as to where he’s going next?”
“He or she,” Kat said.
I yawned again. “Because half of what the Directorate does is gather evidence so they can justify locking these criminal metas up when they actually catch them. I’ve seen the files. We’ll pick up the evidence and get whatever info the locals have, and when the Directorate hears about the next attack, we’ll haul ass to catch up.”
Kat and Scott exchanged a look and then she turned back to me. “Wow, you’ve given this some thought. But what makes you think that the, uh…the meta…the criminal—”
“Suspect.” Scott said it businesslike, as though he were trying to play the part of a real FBI agent. “Or perp. That’s what they call them on the TV shows.”
“Anyway,” Kat said, “what makes you think the perp will have a destination? Couldn’t they just be on a drive, or maybe running from something?”
“Maybe.” I felt the cool air from the AC, slowly flushing out the humid heat that lingered even now, after the sun was down for a couple hours. The temperature display for outside still read 83 degrees. “It could be a Bonnie and Clyde-type situation, where they’re just bopping around from place to place, but it seems a little odd. I’m kinda surprised there’s not more information on who the perp is.”
“We’ll ask some questions when we interview the victim.” Scott sounded self-assured.
I looked over at Kat. “You have the details on this one?”
“Um…” She fumbled for her phone and clicked it on. Peering at the screen, she tapped it a few times and then started to read. “Yes, okay. Daniel Lideen, age twenty-five, of Waseca, Minnesota. Looks like he’s worked at the store for about six years, assistant manager, was alone on the night shift…a patron found him at around 6 A.M., looked to have been knocked out for a while before he got rousted by this customer, who’s a regular.” She looked up. “Nothing spectacular there. Multiple contusions to the head from getting slammed into the counter, maybe a concussion or brain injury; the last report indicates they weren’t sure.”
“Hm.” I got lost in my thoughts. “You can take a peek inside, though, right? Figure out what’s wrong with him?”
She nodded. “I can probably take care of any memory loss. Was that what you were thinking?”
I smiled. “I was thinking it’d be nice to help the poor guy out since he got the crap kicked out of him, but that’s not a bad idea either. After all, if he can give us a description of the perpetrator, that would make our job easier.”
It got quiet for a while after that. I sat with my head leaned against the window, staring out at the darkened fields passing us by until we got into the suburbs. I recognized the familiar lights of Eden Prairie as we passed through and got onto the 494 loop, skirting the southern edge of the city. I could tell Scott was still excited, and he chattered occasionally about how great the assignment was going to go and his certainty we’d achieve success and start building a reputation within the Directorate. I was sure he was right, but was privately hoping that it would be a good reputation rather than a bad one.
We caught Interstate 35 and headed south as the clock clicked 11 P.M. The traffic on the road was light and Scott kept us well above the speed limit. Parks had mentioned before we left the Directorate that the plates for the SUV were flagged as an FBI vehicle, and there were flashing lights and a siren in case we needed them.
The land flattened out and the buildings became more scattered as we passed out of the southern suburb of Burnsville. Shopping centers gave way to fields and forests, the trees becoming havens for shadow as the headlights of our SUV chased the blackness off the road ahead. Forty miles passed in the blink of an eye – I closed my eyes and was jarred awake what felt like seconds later, but I knew wasn’t after I smacked my mouth and it was dry, my tongue finding a layer of film over my teeth.
I rubbed my eyes as I pushed myself off the window. Kat and Scott were talking in hushed voices in front of me. I heard him chuckle, saw her giggle and bat her eyes, watched her hand reach out and stroke his forearm. I started to ask them where we were but stopped myself. There was no reason for me to interrupt their moment.
I watched a sign pass that indicated that Owatonna was only a few miles away. I quietly pulled the water bottle I had left in the cup holder and drained it, rehydrating my mouth. Kat and Scott took no notice of me, still chatting in low voices. I could have heard them if I tried, but I made an effort to tune them out. I focused on Zack and checked my phone again. Not a text message, a missed call, a voicemail, nothing.
“You’re awake.” Kat’s voice contained a hint of surprise and I looked up from my phone to find her tight smile looking back at me. Her eyes were slightly squinted and she appeared to be chewing on her lower lip. I felt a little bad for her, because it was obvious nerves were working on her at least a little. “The GPS says we’ll be there in less than five.”
I nodded as I took another drink of water and popped a piece of gum in my mouth. I had left the purse behind when I changed into a gray suit with a white blouse underneath, placing my wallet and FBI ID into the pockets of my suit jacket. I could feel the lump that was my pistol under my left arm, the weight of it against my side in my shoulder holster. I knew Kat and Scott were carrying as well, but I doubted that they knew I was carrying a backup in an ankle holster on the recommendation of Parks. The two of them had been uncomfortable with the firearms portion of our training. I reveled in it, like I did all the other parts that involved fighting.
Parks drilled it into our head over and over to use every tool at our disposal. “Your powers set you apart from others,” he’d said. “In ancient times, people with your powers could rule entire countries. In modern times, one man with a gun can hurt you more than an ancient army. The gun is mankind’s great equalizer and you’re a fool if you don’t recognize it.” He talked like a drill sergeant when he was training us. I knew he’d done a stint in the army because he’d told me so. Parks knew his stuff. He’d been with M-Squad for almost ten years, since he and Bastian had basically built the unit from the ground up.
I also carried a knife strapped to my calf on his recommendation, but that was another thing I wasn’t likely to mention to the squeamish Kat especially, nor Scott. No use making them edgy. I was glad Scott was excited. I was skeptical. I hadn’t done this before, and I didn’t want to get into a situation I might not be prepared for while hunting down a meta I had no knowledge of.