"So? What did Jett say?" Payton asked Brook, hanging on the open door of his Bugatti. They were parked near the Stetson tunnel and had just finished looking around without having found any leads.
"I got cut off. But before I did, it sounded like Jett said Michelle found a way to track the chief," Brook said, his face furrowed in puzzlement.
"Michelle did? That's odd," Reece said, coming near. "Well, call 'em back, find out what happened." Brook did so, connecting his radio to Jett's. When Jett finally answered, he sounded breathless and bothered.
"Jett, what happened?"
"Your girlfriend's what happened!" Jett griped. "She's gone totally nuts!" Brook tensed up at those words.
"What? What do you mean? Jett, you're not making any sense!"
"He's right, Brook, you'll never believe what Michelle just did!" Paige said angrily. "Jett just filled us in. Apparently, chief had a cozy chat with Michelle last night and gave her clues to track him."
"What? What kind of clues?" Payton asked in surprise.
"The kind that Jett would've had no problem tracking until Michelle stepped in!" Paige made an angry noise in her throat. "Jett had these one-of-a-kind tiny trackers with a remote to track them—"
"The nano-trackers?" Reece asked at once. "What about them?"
"Michelle said she saw the chief take one last night but didn't figure out what it was until now," Paige went on angrily, "it looks like the chief wanted us to have a way to track him—"
"Then why haven't you tracked him and sent me his coordinates by now?" Brook cut her off impatiently. "And what's all this about Michelle?"
"That's what I'm tryna tell you, idiot!" Paige yelled. "Michelle grabbed the tracker remote and split the joint with Holden of all people!" Brook nearly spluttered in shock at that.
"Wha—what?! Why?!"
"She didn't want you guys to go after the chief! Hell, that girl is not making any sense!" Paige groaned irritably. Brook began to pant as anxiety knotted his stomach. Anxiety about Michelle.
"Why would she do that?!" Payton asked impatiently. "She just ruined our one chance of locating the chief! And... why the hell would she leave with Holden? If he's playing us for fools, she could be in danger!" His words made Brook clench his steering wheel in consternation.
"Locating them is not an issue," Reece said calmly, "if she took her car, it's bugged. And Holden's wearing our ankle bracelet tracker—"
"Jett, I need you to track Michelle's car immediately!" Brook said urgently, catching Reece's clue.
"Ooh! Good idea!" Jett exclaimed. "And... got her! They're already five miles and climbing from here."
"We're going after them too!" Paige interjected.
"No, I want Jett to stay behind and keep tracking. Send us the coordinates, we're going after them now!" Brook said, trying to cover the panic in his voice as he hung up.
"What about the chief?" Payton asked.
"Michelle's the only one with the device that can track him. We find her, we find the chief," Brook said, and shut the door. The three of them hit the road, driving as fast as they dared to Michelle's location. Brook chewed his tongue while he drove, worry for her safety eating him up.
"Why, Michelle? Why did you do that?" He asked himself. "Why would you shut us out, go alone with Holden of all people..." He tried to put himself in her shoes, to think up a reason for her actions. He thought about his own actions last year, how he left the crew, left her to go after Kromer... Alone, because he didn't want anyone to get hurt, most of all, Michelle...
And she was just like him.
"Shit!" He burst out as the answer struck him and his car skidded a little on the road. His radio came on and Payton's voice flowed out.
"Brook, you okay? You nearly rammed me there..."
"I know why Michelle took the tracker... she doesn't want us following her to wherever she's going!"
"Well, yeah, but, why?" Reece asked.
"She's trying to protect us... she doesn't want to put us in danger," Brook said, nearly feeling nauseated with worry. "But she's prepared to drive into danger herself..." he quickly called Jett back.
"Jett, what else did Michelle say before she left?" He asked urgently.
"She figured the chief was going after Zhang," Jett said.
"Zhang? But we left him in the dust earlier!"
"Yeah, but Michelle believes the chief went after him in order to get to Mr. Cross!" The air got cut off from his lungs when Brook heard that.
"C-Cross?! She thinks Soriano's going after Cross through Zhang and went after them with Holden Lee?!" He declaimed. "Dammit, Jett, why didn't you tell me this earlier?! She could be driving straight into a trap!"
"Brook, hang on, we might not have cause to worry," Payton said suddenly through the radio. "We just gotta find out what happened to Zhang. Wherever he is, the chief might be there."
"Yeah, but Michelle's still with that accursed Holden Lee and that's worrying the living daylights out of me!" Brook snapped. "Screw Zhang, I just wanna get to Michelle first!"
"We'll find her, Brook," Paige said firmly. "As long as we can track her car, we have a lead."
"Dammit, but it's starting to feel like all this is the chief's fault!" Brook grumbled angrily. "If only he hadn't left us without a warning that he was going off on his own, Michelle wouldn't be doing something so stupid right now!"
"We'll find them, Brook," Leslie's gentle voice came through the radio. "Wherever they are..."
Original OST! 🎧⬆
Soriano meanwhile, had broken away from his crew after the railroad crossing and had doubled back by another road to the spot they had left Zhang. He still had a bone to pick with the coward and was silently raging as he drove. He spotted the empty Camaro all smashed up as Brook had left it, watching from the distance as police cruisers surrounded the scene. He frowned when he realized Zhang wasn't there.
"Where are you, you damn slippery bastard?" He muttered wrathfully to himself. He thought of all the places Zhang might hide... if only he could get some clues from the car... Asking Holden would've been the fastest way to reaching Zhang's hideout but it also would've given away his intentions to the crew. And he wanted that under wraps for now. There was nothing left to it; he'd have to investigate the Camaro. He got out of his car and went to the sight to survey.
"Excuse me," Soriano said to the police officers, "mind if I take a look around?"
"Sorry buddy, this scene isn't open to the public, clear out," a young, pinched-nose officer waved him away. An older portly black officer with a good-natured face, somewhere in his fifties, glanced at Soriano and a flicker of recognition passed his eyes.
"Stand down, Allen. He's okay," he said to the young officer. The officer smiled at Soriano.
"Morgan Soriano, ex-deputy chief of Ginswell makes a comeback. What brings you to these parts? Long way from home."
"Bill Ritchie. As I live and breathe." Soriano gave the older officer a bear handshake. He noticed a four-star pin on the officer's collar. "I see you've climbed the ladder. Sheriff of Vegas, eh? Not bad. Ginswell would be proud." Bill gave a short chuckle.
"Small talk never was your thing, Morgan. Now what really brought you here?"
"Much as I wish this was a social call, I'm here for a smoking gun."
"Oh yeah? You wouldn't happen to know who was driving this Camaro, would you? Funny thing it happened during one of the force's biggest headache events—the NNC. Know anything about it? You did show up at an incriminating time."
"Might have heard about it," Soriano said with a furtive smile. "Can't say much about it. But our mutual lawbreaker Alec Zhang was driving this, if you want to know."
"Gee, thanks, Morgan. You just saved us a couple hours' worth of fingerprinting," Bill said. "I'm guessing you're after him as well?"
"I've always been after him, Bill," Soriano said, his voice hardening. Bill nodded his head and exhaled.
"Well, if you do find him, try not to spill his blood. We're trying to bring him in for a rap sheet as long as route sixty-six."
"No promises," Soriano said rigidly. Bill sighed.
"Should've known you'd never change. If you wanna take a look in the car though, I won't stop you."
"Thanks, Bill. I owe you one for this." Soriano delved into the car, giving it a quick look. It was filled with scraps of gum wrappers, cigarette ends, empty cigarette boxes... all sorts of worthless odds and ends. But one little piece of paper caught Soriano's attention. He picked it up and read it—it was a toll-bridge ticket for a route outside the city; one that led to nowhere on exiting. It seemed like a pointless clue. But Soriano knew there was a likely place beyond the bridge where Zhang might be hiding—an old, abandoned mall. It was worth a check anyway. All he had to do was cross a disused tunnel to get there.
"Found anything, Morgan?" Bill asked, peering into the car. Soriano covertly tucked the ticket in his breast pocket without him seeing.
"I might have. It's a lead I wanna check up on. If I find anything, I'll send word." Soriano promised Bill.
"Well, if you need anything, give me a call," Bill said, giving him his contact details. Soriano bade him off, returning to his car.
"I'll find you, Zhang," he muttered with a vengeance as he turned on the ignition, "and when I do, it'll be the last time you ever try to harm my kids." He drove through Stetson tunnel to the Rafford Mall, slowing down as he approached. To his satisfaction, he saw the overhead lights were on in the tunnel which arched around the mall—an unusual occurrence as the whole place was supposed to be abandoned. That meant somebody was siphoning off power to keep the lights on.
Soriano parked in a dark corner, turned off his engine, and pulled out his pistol. He loaded it with a single bullet and tucked it in his pocket. He tied his hair into a ponytail and pushed Michelle's hairpin with the tracker under it. Then he opened his glove compartment and pulled out a small penknife and an object his crew would have been most surprised to see—a small flip cellphone made some twenty years ago, the kind that couldn't be traced. He opened a phone number and began to type a message:
Michelle,
Hope you figured out what the hairpin was for. If you don't hear from me within the next two hours, track me and send those coordinates to the number below. Cop by the name of Bill Ritchie. Tell him Morgan sends his regards.
He sent the message and put the phone away before getting out of the car, tucking the penknife in a secret pocket in his sleeve cuff and arming himself with his pistol.
He crept up to the mall, keeping to the shadows. He expected to be met with dead silence but the sound of men's voices met his ears. He peered beyond the underpass of the tunnel and saw five or so men lounging around on folding chairs. Standing right in their midst was none other than Zhang.
"Mr. Cross is not happy, Zhang. He wanted that dog captured and brought to him alive. And you didn't even manage to kill one of his pups."
"Shut the hell up, Reuben! I tell you they were prepared for an ambush tonight! My crew was rounded up and is getting shredded by the cops as we speak!" Zhang raged. Soriano squinted to get a better look at the men—somehow, they seemed familiar.
"That's not our fault. You should've kept a tighter leash on your crew. Your young prodigy would have been shot dead before he spilled his guts if he'd been one of us," the man called Reuben said icily.
"That confirms that Holden's not a double-agent... huh, shouldn't have doubted the kid," Soriano muttered to himself.
"Cross wanted results tonight or he doesn't want to see you alive," Reuben said, pulling out a gun. "He's paid you for it. You should've at least brought back their leader. The pups would've followed then. As it is, you're useless."
"Cross needs me!" Zhang flared up, but fear filled his voice. "Without me, he'll never be able to catch those wretched Night Blazers!"
"And that's fine by me," Soriano muttered darkly, pulling out his own gun. From the shadows, he aimed it at Zhang's chest, dead center, pulled the trigger, and—
BANG!
The shot rang out in echoes in the underpass, the bullet hitting Zhang—not in the chest but in his shoulder. At the last minute, Zhang had stepped back in fear as he backed away from Reuben. He fell to the ground in a pool of blood, howling in pain but still alive.
"Dammit!" Soriano cussed. The men who heard the shot were alert at once, scrambling to find the prowler.
"It came from over there!" Reuben hollered, rushing in the direction Soriano was hiding. Soriano rushed back to his car just in time to fling his gun inside. They surrounded him and he turned back to face them, his expression gritty and ferocious.
"Well, well. Ain't it the top dog himself," Reuben said in a snide voice. "Ex-copper, Soriano, head of the Night Blazers."
"You want me, scoundrel? Come and get me!" Soriano challenged them. Reuben cackled with the rest of the men.
Here we was wonderin' how to get our hands on you and you deliver yourself right to us!"
"The only thing your hands are getting are handcuffs, you scoundrel," Soriano spat out, taking a fighting stance. Reuben snorted.
"Think you can peddle us off to your little copper friends? Our boss Cross will bail us out lickety-split. Like he did the last time," Reuben gave a dark smile. Soriano frowned and suddenly noticed tattoos on their necks—tattoos of a pair of fangs like a snake's open mouth, out of which issued flames. He recognized the men—they were the thugs who had broken into his dealership after the first NNC race, the wretches who had beat up Payton and cornered Paige!
"YOU!" He roared, charging forward at the men. He began to attack them in all directions, wounding them faster than they could retaliate. Rage seethed in him as he remembered everything they put Payton through and he fought brutally, even dislocating a few of their joints.
"I'll break your jaws to powder, then we'll see if you come after my kids again!" Soriano rampaged.
"What are you doing you fools?! Get him!" Zhang called out from the ground, seeing the scuffle. Eventually, though, the men overpowered Soriano and captured him. He was bruised, perspiring, and sporting a bleeding lip but the fire didn't die down in his eyes.
"You're a force to be reckoned with, I'll give you that," Reuben said, dusting himself off and checking his wounds. "But our boss will deal with you." From behind, someone whacked Soriano on the head, knocking him out.
"Trash his car, he won't be needing it anymore," Reuben told his men with a vicious sneer. Zhang stood up and walked to Reuben.
"Take him to Cross, he'll want to see him," he said bitterly, watching them drag Soriano's unconscious body to the van they came in. He kept pressing his shoulder wound to stop the bleeding but to little avail. Reuben turned to him with a glower.
"We'll do as we see fit. We're taking you as well. Whether Cross wants to keep a wounded hunting dog or not is for him to decide."
One hour later, Soriano regained consciousness and looked around, groaning from the pain in his head. He was seated in a dark room, the size of a warehouse, with a single light turned on a few feet away. He felt ropes at his hands and feet, but other than that it looked like the men had not stripped him. He felt the pocket knife in his sleeve and slipped it out. He quietly opened it and began to cut the ropes with it.
"Awake, are you?" A silken smooth male voice came through the darkness. Soriano tried to see who it was. The voice laughed.
"Don't strain yourself. I have no qualms showing you my face." A man stepped out of the darkness, a man in a fedora and a light tan coat. He took off his hat and continued, "After all, it'll be one of the last faces you ever see." Soriano registered shock on seeing the man's face.
"Linus LaCroix?!"
Oooh, shocker. But I hope you guys hadn't forgotten about that character. Finally, the Cross comes to light. 😯😲🤯 What happens next? Dang, don't you wish Soriano's bullet had gotten to Zhang? Or are you relieved he didn't become a murderer? Thoughts!
Ps, I realized this was kinda an oddball chapter because it's the first one apart from the bonus chapters without Michelle actually appearing... Found out myself after writing, dunno how it happened. You missing her? You'll see her in the next!