Blake's Pursuit

“Wrong!” Blake poked his index finger into Wesley’s chest. “You would be. And we need you. You’re the only one who knows how to cast a spell or brew a potion. What if we can’t defeat Norwood with conventional weapons? We need you, Wes. I need you.”

For a few seconds Wes seemed to war with himself, but Blake’s plea—laced with compliments Wes clearly appreciated—won him over. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But once Hannah is safe, I’m going to search for them.”

Slowly Blake nodded. “And I’ll support you when you bring it up with Samson. Ultimately he’ll have to approve.”

“He will.”

Without a knock, the door flew open and John appeared. “Showtime,” he announced. “Ronny just got the call. We don’t have much time. They want him to bring the drugs to Fort Mason. In thirty minutes.”

“Did he get assurances from them that they’re bringing Hannah to the meeting?”

Blake released her, hurrying to a cupboard and ripping open the door. Inside were several guns, knives, and stakes.

John nodded. “Ronny played the suffering boyfriend pretty convincingly. He begged them to let him see her. They agreed.”

Blake grabbed several weapons and turned back to his colleague. “Then let’s go.” Then his gaze drifted to her. “Stay here.”

“Please take me with you.”

“No, Lilo. We’ve barely got enough time to get there. There’s no time to implement any safety measures for you. Stay by the phone.” He motioned to his desk. “I’ll call you as soon as we know anything. Promise.”

He was right, of course. She knew that. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

A quick smile and Blake was gone, his colleagues with him. Now all she could do was wait.

38

They’d parked the cars and vans at the end of a cul-de-sac surrounded by greenery. On the other side of it, an embankment covered in trees and shrubs led down to three broad piers, which held old warehouses that had long ago been converted to a center for art and culture with regular exhibitions, artists’ work spaces, and large private events.

Blake and his colleagues walked down the embankment, using the trees and shrubs for cover to get an overview of the warehouses and surrounding area. Besides the three large warehouses on the piers, a small firehouse sat just below the embankment. Five more structures, each almost as large as the warehouses, sat on solid ground near the water.

Blake gave his colleagues the sign to spread out. He’d brought a large contingent of men with him: for every guy that Norwood had, Scanguards had brought three, many of them crack shots, who could take out a target from a long distance. However, everybody had to remain hidden until the enemy showed himself.

John remained next to him, watching a red dot on his cell phone move around a map. “Ronny’s just entering the first gate.”

Blake peered into the distance. “What’s he driving?”

“His own truck. We figured Norwood would be less suspicious if everything looks normal. We put a tracker in Ronny’s shoe to make sure we can keep an eye on him if he has to leave the car somewhere and continue on foot.”

“And the drugs?”

“He told us they came in liquid form, so we filled plastic bottles with colored water.”

“As long as they don’t smell it, I guess we’ll be fine.”

“And by the time they do,” John added, “we’ll already have them by the balls.”

Blake heard a crackling sound over his earpiece. “Positions?”

“This is Wes. My team is at the south end, opposite buildings B and C.”

“Oliver here. We should be at the northern end of building A in about sixty seconds.”

There was a pause.

“Amaury?”

“Yeah. Sorry, had to adjust the volume. My guys and I are stationed behind some crates at the entrance of the walkway between buildings D and E. We have a good view of the parking lot. Ronny’s just pulling up.”

“Good. John and I are overlooking the Festival Pavilion, and we can see the entrance to the Herbst Pavilion, too.” Several shadows approached from the back of the firehouse and slowly crept past the shrubbery there. “Shit, I can see somebody approaching from the east. Anybody got eyes on them from below?”

He exchanged a look with John, indicating that if nobody was closer, he and John would try to take them from behind.

The three figures froze. “It’s us,” Samson suddenly said through the earpiece. “I’ve got Haven and Yvette with me. I texted you that we were coming.”

Just then, Blake felt his cell phone vibrate and looked at it. Samson’s text message appeared on the screen. “Just got it now. Glad you’re here.”

For a few minutes, everybody remained silent. Blake glanced at the dot that represented Ronny. “Amaury?” he asked through his mic. “What’s Ronny doing?”

“Waiting around next to the car.”

“They’re late,” Blake said.

“Yeah, or something,” John said next to him, frowning. “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” Thirty minutes hadn’t given them any time to prepare for this. They were winging it, and Blake could only hope that everybody would think on their feet and make the right decisions when it came to it.

“I hear something,” Oliver suddenly said. “I think it’s a boat.”

“Samson? You see anything from where you are?” Blake asked.

“Definitely a boat approaching. A small motorboat,” Samson confirmed.

“How many people on it?”

“Not sure. One driving it. But there could be more hiding in the hull.”

“Okay. Sharpshooters, get ready!” Blake started issuing his orders. “All teams: move in.” He motioned to John and they descended all the way down to the embankment until they reached the paved area. Communicating by signs now, so as not to be overheard by the approaching vampires, they moved closer, using the buildings and parked cars to give them cover.

Blake could hear the engine of the motorboat being throttled down, and knew the boat was coming to a stop now, somewhere between buildings A and B.

A loud bang suddenly jolted him.

“What’s that?” he hissed into his mic.

“Fuck if I know,” Amaury cursed.