Big Data: A Startup Thriller Novel

Chapter 79

         

Doug drove slowly around the neighborhood, meandering through side streets and back. The matte-black polymer-framed Glock 17 sat fully loaded in the passenger seat. He knew that firing a gun in broad daylight on a Sunday afternoon had its risks. He wished he had gone for the Maxim 9 with a built-in silencer, but that was too gaudy. He wasn't a hit man.

Shooting on sight wasn't the primary plan, though. Ideally, Luna would see the gun and follow him quietly to the car. He would make her drive, and he would sit in the backseat with the Glock pointed at her head. Any funny business and at least the sound might be muffled some by the car. With him in the backseat, it would be impossible for her to do anything but drive. And even if she were stupid enough to try to crash the car, he would be safest back there, too.

Now he just had to find the bitch. If the security guards were right, that she was with Alex Sonne, and it could be a two-for-one deal. He decided he would knock Alex out by hitting him hard on the head with the Glock. No sense in risking anything with an ex-cop.

Doug drove around at fifteen miles an hour. Occasionally, a car would come up behind him. Usually, they would get annoyed and turn off onto a different side street, but a particularly nasty driver had the audacity to honk. Doug slowed down to a crawl. The driver honked again, longer this time. Doug rolled down his window and motioned with his arm for the driver to pass. Doug saw the woman in the beat-up green Kia cursing profanities as she rolled by. But her lips stopped moving when she spotted the pistol in his hand. The woman slammed on the gas and drove away, screeching her tires. Doug wished he could just type the woman's license plate into Gaia. New feature request.

He just had to keep things status quo for a few more days. A few more days and it wouldn't be his problem anymore. It would all be in the hands of the Chinese government. He had made the sword that would strike down his enemies, but he wouldn't use it himself. He wasn't going to make that mistake again.

Driving slowly, watching closely, a predator stalking his prey. Then he hit something. It cracked under his tire like a toothpick. He slammed on the brakes and got out. A small boy was standing on the sidewalk, crying. Doug saw parents rushing toward him from a nearby school. Doug bent down and looked under the car.

There was a small skateboard under one wheel, broken in half. He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge under the weight of the car. He pulled himself back up and got back in the car—more crunching as it drifted forward a few inches. Then he got out again and retrieved the broken pieces of wood with his good hand. He handed it to the crying kid. By then, the kid's dad had caught up. He was tall—six four or six five, at least. His head started where Doug's ended.

"What the hell, dude?"

He crouched near his howling son.

"Your son should watch where he's playing. You're lucky it was just his skateboard."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

The dad stood up and stepped forward. Doug ignored him and instead surveyed the area.

"Hey, asswad, I'm talking to you."

The dad shoved Doug hard, but Doug didn't care. Another day, he would have taken the man down. A quick knee to the groin would have been more than sufficient. But there were more important things he needed to focus on at that moment. Doug went back to his car.

"We're not done here," the guy yelled.

"Yes, I think we are," Doug said, stepping out again, gun in hand. The dad instinctively stepped in front of his son.

"Calm down," the man said to Doug. "We're cool, we're cool. It's just a skateboard."

But Doug wasn't paying him any mind. He was running toward the soccer field.