Target (Page 32)

"That plan is taking shape," Zeke growled. Dom was wise enough to recognize that growl—it meant Ezekiel Tanner wasn’t prepared to share information yet. He was angry, though. Angry that Winkler had been instrumental in his brother’s takedown. Dom kept further questions to himself. After all, he had plans for William Winkler too, and he was keeping that information to himself.

"I don’t think any normal person will get into this bank," Ashe handed over what he had to Winkler the following afternoon. The bank in Boise had been a difficult system to crack. Ashe had noticed that his usual ability to crack puzzles and such was much sharper, now. Perhaps it was because most puzzles didn’t provide much of a challenge to him. Now, when Winkler set these things in front of him, he could almost see a road map to his destination if he just closed his eyes and concentrated.

"Kid, this is frightening," Winkler said, going over the information in the folder Ashe handed to him. "I’ll tell you what; go find something to eat while I make a call or two."

"Okay," Ashe stretched and rolled his shoulders to work out a few kinks. He’d gotten stiff, sitting in a chair most of the day. "Do I have time for a quick run on the beach?"

"Take Marco or somebody with you," Winkler nodded.

"All right." Ashe wandered down the hall toward the media room. "Who wants to go out for a run?" He asked. Trace, Trajan and Marco were in the kitchen for an afternoon break. Keeping the grounds and surrounding beach patrolled and safe was their job, as well as that of Gabe, Gene and Spencer.

"I’ll go," Trace offered. "Just let me finish this glass of water. You ought to have some too, before we head out. It’s hot and muggy out there." Ten minutes later, Trace and Ashe were running down the beach. Trace was nearly as tall as Trajan and he ran with an easy lope, even in the sand.

"You know, Trace, I’ve been thinking," Ashe said. "When those two wolves found us in the theatre parking lot in Denton, they were parked right beside the van we drove."

"They might have been following you," Trace said.

"Yeah. I guess. But what if that isn’t true? What if they had a trace on Jack’s cell or something? Besides, I think Marco might have noticed if we were followed. He’s pretty careful."

"Yeah. Well, I’ll mention it to Winkler and see if he wants to check into that," Trace said. "Come on; see if you can catch up with me." Trace took off at a faster pace.

"Let’s go do a little checking for bugs," Winkler said, once Trace mentioned what Ashe had said. "Probably should have done it to begin with. Just didn’t credit Pruitt with that many brain cells."

"Yeah, well, even the dumbest of us have our moments," Trace agreed.

"Then let’s go see if Pruitt had a moment. Bring the equipment and the others. We’ll find out."

"Okay."

"Does he have his cell with him?" Winkler asked Marcie, who wore a worried frown when Winkler, Trace, Trajan, Marco and Ashe walked into the house.

"It’s charging up on the kitchen counter; Jack went down to see Larry and Jeff at Jeff’s house. They seem to be getting along pretty well."

"Check it," Winkler jerked his head at Trajan. Ashe stood by, watching in fascination as Jack’s cell was checked. Trajan grimaced as he cracked the expensive phone’s case and then used tweezers to lift out a tiny chip.

"Lookie here," Trajan handed the chip to Winkler, who had a small plastic bag ready.

"Can we look through the rest of his things?" Winkler asked Marcie, who now wore a horrified expression.

"Look through everything. Get every bit of that crap away from my son," she insisted. Winkler and his team went through the rest of Jackson’s things, finding one more chip in a duffle bag shoved inside his closet. "This can’t be happening," Marcie moaned. They checked Dusty’s things as well, but failed to find anything.

"We’ll destroy these," Winkler promised as they walked out the door.

"Good. I’m not telling him," Marcie said. "I’ll let Jason know, but that’s it," she added.

"I’ll send somebody else to stay with Ace and Gene," Winkler nodded. I’ll call Nathan and Aedan when the sun sets. We all need to be on guard in case these things got past the shields those witches put up."

"Jack’s been outside the community several times, so they could have picked up a signal then," Marcie was wiping tears. "Keep them away from us, please. I don’t want any of them near me or my sons."

"We’ll do our best, Marcie. Jason’s tough and Gene and Ace are two of my best. I’ll send Nick over, he’s good, too. Just stay calm, all right?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Winkler."

"Good call, Ashe," Winkler said, once they’d loaded into the van. "Now, Trajan, what do you think we should do with these?" Winkler held up the small plastic bag, which contained the locating chips.

"I have an idea," Trajan grinned.

"Dude, that’s just nasty," Ashe said when Trajan returned to the coffee shop after using a strong adhesive to glue the chips to the underside of a police cruiser parked outside.

"We’ll let Pruitt argue with the kind officers driving that car—if he catches up with them and wants to," Trajan shrugged.

"My contact said to give this to the boy," Wlodek’s eldest vampire child handed a small volume over. Wlodek, black-haired and black-eyed, was born Greek nearly three thousand years earlier. His eldest living vampire child, sitting across from him now, was Roman at birth and more than two thousand years of age.

"This looks new," Wlodek observed, taking the book.

"It is a translation, so I had the loose papers bound and covered."

"Then express my gratitude when you see him next."

"I will. He also said to exercise caution, and not to play with fire."

"More vague warnings? I am not surprised." Wlodek turned the book over in his hands.

"You know he can’t interfere. Not directly. He says it’s part of a larger volume, and that this is the most he could give."

"I understand." Wlodek sighed.

"He also says that Radomir should not be punished. He acted honorably, and you will see that for what it is one day."

"Shall I let him have my seat as Head of the Council as well? He desires to make my decisions for me?"

"No, father. I think he wishes to keep you from making a terrible mistake."

"Very well. I will look through this first, and then hand it over to the boy."