Serial Story: English Breakfast, Part 11
This story is presented weekly in draft format.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |
English Breakfast, Part 11
Patrick stared at the information he’d gotten back from the phone look-up. The number Karen had called from was registered to Charles Industries, a leading tech company recently in the news due to employees disappearing. It made sense - the journalist must have been researching the company.
Opening the schematics he’d photographed, he logged into the city planning records database and pulled up the blueprints for the address that the phone number had supposedly come from. They matched almost exactly, except it looked like a couple of walls might have been moved. It was labeled “Psych Lab”, and while it seemed stupid that the women would be held directly at one of CI’s buildings, it was all he had to go on.
His phone rang. Kane’s number popped up on the ID, and Patrick answered.
“Got anything?”
“Looks like Karen called from the Charles Industries psych lab. I was just about to head over there. I’ll send you the address.”
“Good - I’ll meet you there.” Kane disconnected the call and Patrick sent the address and a copy of the blueprints to Kane’s phone on his way out the door. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
Daylight was creeping in by the time Patrick reached the lab. He parked a block away and crouched behind some bushes against a tall, chain link fence with a pair of binoculars to see what he was up against. Several guards patrolled the perimeter of the building, and there was a large digital lock on the closest door.
Getting in was not going to be easy.
He turned at the sound of scuffling shoes behind him, hand on the butt of his gun. Kane nodded, joining him in the hiding spot.
“What do we have?” Kane asked as Patrick handed the binoculars to him.
“Five outside, digital keypad and card swiper. I’m not sure how we’re going to get in yet - but the guards have key cards.”
“Looks like we don’t have to get in,” Kane observed. Patrick looked back at the compound in time to see two hooded female figures being led out the door.
“That must be them...” Patrick scanned ahead in the direction they were walking, and pointed. “There’s a car. We can hit them once they leave the compound.”
Kane nodded. “If they leave, anyway.” He handed the binoculars back. “I’ll block the road, you shoot the tires. Let’s wait until they’re half a mile away though - there’s nothing out there, and thier security guys will be delayed responding. Ready?”
Patrick nodded, watching as the women were shoved into the waiting sedan. “Let’s do it.” He jogged back to the SUV and got in, watching Kane drive past before he started toward the main road. He hung back until he saw the sedan go past, and then eased in behind, keeping his distance until he saw Kane shoot in front, clipping the sedan’s hood and turning the car sideways.
Patrick gunned the engine and held his glock out the window, aiming low on the back tire as he pulled the trigger. There was an audible pop as the tire blew, and another as the front tire went. Skidding to a stop, he got out, using his door as a shield as Kane did the same on the other side.
“Come out with your hands up!” Kane yelled. For a long moment, nothing happened. Patrick held his breath, knowing everything could go south in seconds.
Then two shots rang out from inside the car.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |
English Breakfast, Part 11
Patrick stared at the information he’d gotten back from the phone look-up. The number Karen had called from was registered to Charles Industries, a leading tech company recently in the news due to employees disappearing. It made sense - the journalist must have been researching the company.
Opening the schematics he’d photographed, he logged into the city planning records database and pulled up the blueprints for the address that the phone number had supposedly come from. They matched almost exactly, except it looked like a couple of walls might have been moved. It was labeled “Psych Lab”, and while it seemed stupid that the women would be held directly at one of CI’s buildings, it was all he had to go on.
His phone rang. Kane’s number popped up on the ID, and Patrick answered.
“Got anything?”
“Looks like Karen called from the Charles Industries psych lab. I was just about to head over there. I’ll send you the address.”
“Good - I’ll meet you there.” Kane disconnected the call and Patrick sent the address and a copy of the blueprints to Kane’s phone on his way out the door. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
Daylight was creeping in by the time Patrick reached the lab. He parked a block away and crouched behind some bushes against a tall, chain link fence with a pair of binoculars to see what he was up against. Several guards patrolled the perimeter of the building, and there was a large digital lock on the closest door.
Getting in was not going to be easy.
He turned at the sound of scuffling shoes behind him, hand on the butt of his gun. Kane nodded, joining him in the hiding spot.
“What do we have?” Kane asked as Patrick handed the binoculars to him.
“Five outside, digital keypad and card swiper. I’m not sure how we’re going to get in yet - but the guards have key cards.”
“Looks like we don’t have to get in,” Kane observed. Patrick looked back at the compound in time to see two hooded female figures being led out the door.
“That must be them...” Patrick scanned ahead in the direction they were walking, and pointed. “There’s a car. We can hit them once they leave the compound.”
Kane nodded. “If they leave, anyway.” He handed the binoculars back. “I’ll block the road, you shoot the tires. Let’s wait until they’re half a mile away though - there’s nothing out there, and thier security guys will be delayed responding. Ready?”
Patrick nodded, watching as the women were shoved into the waiting sedan. “Let’s do it.” He jogged back to the SUV and got in, watching Kane drive past before he started toward the main road. He hung back until he saw the sedan go past, and then eased in behind, keeping his distance until he saw Kane shoot in front, clipping the sedan’s hood and turning the car sideways.
Patrick gunned the engine and held his glock out the window, aiming low on the back tire as he pulled the trigger. There was an audible pop as the tire blew, and another as the front tire went. Skidding to a stop, he got out, using his door as a shield as Kane did the same on the other side.
“Come out with your hands up!” Kane yelled. For a long moment, nothing happened. Patrick held his breath, knowing everything could go south in seconds.
Then two shots rang out from inside the car.
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