Page 96 of Ozzie

He’s here. But wait, is he friendly with these guys?

The smack of a hand on skin fills the air.

“Ouch!” JB cries out.

Not friends.

“I’ll call Zach to bring the car back around,” the first man says.

I step away from the door, and Lightning and I move down the hallway.

“I saw two men and heard JB,” I whisper. “They have someone bringing a car for them.”

Lightning nods. “We need a car too.” We move farther away from the office door.

I glance back at Lightning, and he’s on his phone.

“I’m getting us a cab.”

I don’t even question the fact that we have no idea where we are actually going. I’ll let him deal with that.

As we wait, I realize neither man has an accent. That could be part of their cover to blend in.

The two men leave the office. One guy is pushing JB along, who has his hands tied behind his back. They take the elevator, and we race down the stairs, one flight, and wait at the stairwell door until they leave the lobby. Then we sneak out.

“The cab’s here,” Lightning says.

The two men get into a car, and it pulls away from the road. I keep my eye on it as Lightning leads me to our car. We get in.

“Follow that car,” Lightning says.

The driver is about to object when Lightning tosses a hundred-dollar bill at him. “If it goes too long, I have more.”

The driver turns around and peels out onto the roadway.

“But don’t let them know you’re following,” I say.

“With traffic, we’ll be parked behind them for a while,” the driver says.

The driver was right. We probably could have walked faster. After about twenty minutes, the traffic loosens up and we end up on a highway. The driver does a great job staying far enough behind but not losing them.

Their car exits the highway and, after a few more turns, pulls into a warehouse parking lot.

“Keep going,” Lightning instructs.

The driver continues, passing the entrance.

“Pull over there,” Lightning says.

We get out about a block up from where they pulled in, and our cab takes off.

“Let’s hope they stick around here; otherwise, we’ll lose them,” I say.

There’s a path between the bushes leading to the parking lot prior to the car entrance. We take it. It’s dark all around the vehicle, and the warehouse doors are closed.

“They already went inside,” Lightning says.

We make our way around the building, hoping to find another way in. As we approach the back, we hear voices. I peer around the edge. A garage door is open, and light filters out, but no one is outside.

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