Page 23 of Urban Justice

It wasn’t the Noctem guy. His voice was grittier, definitely older, and familiar.

“It’s Luke.”

“Boy, you asked me to call you if I heard something interesting.”

“Quincy? Is that you?” Luke was scrambling now. “Yes, yes, I just didn’t think you’d call me so soon.”

“If the deal is off…”

“NO! No. The deal is on. If you have something for me, I’ll take it.”

It was impossible to know if it was a curse or a cough, but he didn’t seem happy at being doubted. “Take it or leave it. But I’m not standing here like a fool, waiting for you to make up your mind, son. Especially since…”

“My mind is made up. What’s the information?”

“One of my pals told me about a strange car going in and out of a hotel underground parking lot, and from what I heard, it’s not the only place there’s been activity.”

The anticipation he’d felt quickly deflated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Quincy, but hotel parking lots tend to be busy, especially in downtown Chicago.”

“Don’t insult me, boy. I’m old, not senile. Same trucks, same men. All the time. Well, not all the time, but regularly. My friend Pauly confirmed it too. I’m waiting for him to tell me more about it. Should I call you back when I have the information?”

No way was he risking losing that lead—if it even was a lead.

“Tell me where you are. I’m on my way.”

* * *

One thingthe old homeless man could do with amazing ability was to blend into the urban surroundings. Luke had that skill in the military, but in civilian clothing in the middle of the street, he was happy to follow Quincy.

Luke had donned the darkest clothes he could find, along with his cell phone and weapon, just in case before heading out in the truck. No doubt there would be some sort of GPS or tracking device in it, but he didn’t see it as a problem. And if he had to justify his actions, Sloane hadn’t outright told him he couldn’t leave the loft.

The rendezvous point had been at the outer limit of the original tunnel network, the known one at least. The hotel where Quincy had told Luke to meet him was a posh location, and unlikely to be their target in Luke’s opinion.

They were now crouched at the entrance of a nearby building, the two of them freezing their asses off. Luke ignored the discomfort, his eyes on the automatic garage door that had stayed stubbornly closed since they’d taken their post.

“Are you sure it’s the right place?”

After a series of puffs and snickers, Quincy burrowed into his coat even deeper. “Youngsters these days don’t listen to their elders, think we’re a bunch of fools. I swear, I almost thought you were different.”

Luke wanted to retort, but his attention was caught by a massive black SUV with tinted windows approaching the door. As expected, it opened.

“Told you, son. Pauly is a reliable source. He told me he saw trucks going in, strange cars, coming and going, two fleets. That’s the first one.” As Quincy spoke, the two dark cars entered and disappeared.

“Always the same place and the same cars?”

“On Thursdays. This is Pauly’s corner. He knows his beat.”

Luke took a quick look at his watch to check the time. “How long do they stay there?”

Quincy shrugged. “Don’t know. But not long from what I learned. Especially since two more will come after the first wave. I don’t know why you’re so interested.”

Four cars, two waves. Each night in a different location. Who were these men? And more importantly, why this particular location on this specific day?

Luke’s mind went over the maps he remembered, and from what he’d gathered, there weren’t any access points around there, and that made him even more curious. He quickly looked around and noticed the surveillance cameras, and there was the risk.

“Quincy, gimme your coat.”

The homeless man looked at him as if he’d lost of few marbles. “I like my coat, son. And I need it! You want me to freeze to death?”

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