One Capture Down

Yesterday, Troutman was quizzing Bonnie on how she was able to track him down. Her story wasn't very strong and Troutman was pretty insistent that he knew how she found him. Because if she was able to find him, then others could too:

     “Well, as soon as I heard that somebody tried to kill that idiot Bierak…” There was a rustling sound in the corner of the room. Troutman looked up but saw nothing. He turned back to Bonnie who continued. “I figured it was you two. I remembered that you used to play cards with Paul Chung so I went to his house. He told me where to look.”
     Troutman slammed the table with his fist. “Dammit,” he said. “If Steele finds out Chung said anything, he’s going to be in for a world of hurt.”
     “Yeah, so where is he?” Bonnie asked. “Steele.”
     “Why do you want to know?” Troutman replied back.
     “Because if we’re going to take over this world, we need to band together. I figured three of us have a better chance than two.”
     “Steele doesn’t want to be found right now,” Troutman said with a bit of fear in his voice.
     “Come on, David,” Bonnie said. “You can tell me.”
     “No,” Troutman said. “We have to lay low for a while till things cool down.”
     “Please,” Bonnie pleaded. “It’s important.”
     Troutman’s eyes narrowed. He looked around the room and then back at Bonnie. “You still never told me how you found me. And there’s no way you could know it was me and Steele that planted the bomb. It could’ve been anyone. Something doesn’t smell right.” He meant that literally. From the corner of the room was the odor of a clean, well-groomed person, not the squalid smell he had long since become used to.
     “You can say that again,” Bonnie said, trying to be funny. Troutman didn’t laugh. “No, really,” she said. “There’s nothing going on.” She looked at Troutman but he seemed distracted.
     “Actually, there is,” Rei said, appearing suddenly in the corner.
     “Bierak!” Troutman shouted. He leaped up and took his chair and flung it at Rei who ducked in time. The chair crashed to the wall then the floor. In the mean time, Troutman bolted toward the back of the house. He got to the back door and whipped it open, only to see MINIMCOM’s two-meter tall all-black livetar standing there. Before Troutman could even turn, MINIMCOM lifted his arm, brought his hand down on the crown of Troutman’s head and the Essessoni collapsed to the ground like a broken puppet.

I kind of like that phrase "broken puppet". I was going for the image of a marionette whose strings had just been cut. Now that they have Troutman captured, let's see what Rome can extract from him.