The Archangel Drones Read Online Free PDF Page A

he’d signed in, and now the streets were nearly deserted. The small car heading his way carried the first citizen he’d seen in almost ten minutes.
    Marwick watched as the non-speeder passed by his position, a streetlight’s pool of illumination making the driver’s profile surprisingly clear.
    Big Jim did a double take, something familiar about the kid passing by. His eyes immediately spotted the license plate, a temporary paper tag indicating the operator hadn’t owned the recent model two-door very long.
    Inhaling sharply, Big Jim realized who the driver was. His hand immediately reached for the gearshift.
    He pulled out behind the little sedan, not entirely sure why. The operator was the player who had bested Junior during the game, and now the little shit was driving around in a recently acquired vehicle. That just rubbed the cop in a wrong way.
    “Let’s see how cool you are off the basketball court,” he whispered. “Bet you aren’t as calm with my full court press,” he added.
    He accelerated rapidly, taking his squad car up to 50 mph, quickly closing the gap. Just when it appeared that the front bumper’s safety cage was going to slam directly into the temporary tag, he braked hard.
    He could see the outline of two heads through the back glass, the shorter figure in the passenger side appearing to be female. “You’ve had your girlfriend out awfully late, young man. I wonder if there’s a date rape involved. A party to celebrate your new trophy? Underage drinking?”
    But the three-year old Honda Civic didn’t flinch or react, the driver’s only response being to slow down.
    In a way, Jim was disappointed, but not discouraged. He keyed the cruiser’s microphone, “Edward 40.”
    The female dispatcher’s voice acknowledged immediately, “Go Edward 40.”
    “Traffic, temporary tag, 17 Adam 7331 George 1,” Jim reported, “Suspicious vehicle. Cypress Road, one mile west of Jester.”
    It was less than a minute before the dispatcher responded, “No WW, no reports. Registered to one Gabriel William Chase, Green Forest Avenue, Houston.”
    Marwick hadn’t expected any “wants” or “warrants,” satisfied that little Mr. Goodie Two Shoes and his Barbie and Ken family wouldn’t dare put an illegal car on the road.
    “Clear,” Big Jim replied, his eyes never leaving the taillights ahead.
    After another half mile, the Honda slowed even further and then signaled a right-hand turn. Jim followed, entering a residential neighborhood of middle-class homes. He noted the speed limit dropped to 20 mph.
    But the kid kept his foot off the pedal, the large red digits of the laser gun never topping 19. “You know I’m back here, you little shit,” Jim hissed. “No matter.”
    At the next stop sign, Jim watched eagerly. Having a cop car right up their ass tended to make most drivers a little nervous. The kid didn’t roll the stop, but he still violated the traffic code.
    Jim smiled, concluding that the Honda’s front tires had exceeded the white crossing-line by a least a foot. Glancing at the dash cam mounted behind the cruiser’s rearview mirror, he grunted. There was no way the video could clearly record where the driver had stopped.
    He reached for the lights and siren.
    Like most civilians, the driver’s first reaction was to tap the brakes. That response told Jim the teen had spotted the flashers, proved on the video camera that the operator was aware that a peace officer was initiating a traffic stop.
    Instead of pulling over immediately, the Honda kept on driving. Despite it being less than a block since he’d flipped on the lights, Jim keyed the microphone. “Edward 40… Edward 40…. Possible evasion, late model Honda Civic, blue, previous temporary tag, 3800 block of Santa Fe Drive. Requesting additional units.”
    “All units, all units, proceed to general vicinity of Santa Fe Drive, three thousand, eight hundred block to assist the officer. Possible evasion.”

    The sleepy demeanor