by MF Bishop
Chapter Seventy Two
Alexa felt dizzy and sick, her head an aching ball of pain. She gagged and nearly threw up, but the waves of nausea passed. Where was she? Warm air swirled around her. She was lying on the back seat of a car, her face pressed into the cushion. The seat was covered with something gritty and sharp. She tried to lift herself, but her hands wouldn't work. For a panicked moment she thought she was paralyzed. Then she realized her hands were tied or cuffed behind her. She pulled her head off the seat and struggled to sit up. The redhead in front turned around.
"Just stay down, Red," he snapped, and raised a long barreled revolver to back up his demand. The other man swore as he drove.
"Damn motherfuckin' greaser. That fuckin' Mex had a shotgun, man. Ain't that against the law?" He made a pounding noise. "Look at this windshield, man. I'm gonna go back and blow his fuckin' head off."
"You just keep driving, Mel." The redhead sounded tense and angry. "We got a job to do."
"Well, we've sure as hell fucked it up so far," the driver snarled, "as of right now we are batting five hundred, thanks to that damn...."
"Shut up and drive."
Alexa lay still and listened to them argue. The coarse grit on the seat was glass from the shattered windshield. Some of the pieces were sharp and cut into her face. The pain and the wind helped clear her head. Where were they going? Neither of the tough guys was familiar with Washington and they made several wrong turns, arguing all the while. The black was Mel and the redhead was Lonnie. Alexa twisted her neck and watched the sky, looking for buildings or landmarks, anything. All she could see was light poles, but judging from the conversation they were heading into the Northeast section of Washington.
What could she do? Bobby must have escaped, so he was safe for now. Could he help her? How could he find her? The Northeast area covered hundreds of blocks, even if he guessed that was where they were going. Enterprise Magnetics? These guys were obviously hired, probably by Howard Green and his bunch. Maybe Enterprise Magnetics, then. That would be the first place Bobby would look. And get his damn face shot off. She twisted on the seat in frustration.
Something dug into her hip. She moved a little more to get away from it, drawing a threat from Big Red. She realized what the painful lump was. The ugly watch/computer/phone/map. It was in her right side pocket. The magic map, that told you where you were. She tried to remember what Bobby had said. Turn it on, and it tuned into a global positioning satellite and figured out where it was. Then it dialed into the cell phone network and told some computer the news. So maybe, if this little dingus was turned on, someone at that computer could tell where she was. Would Bobby think of that? Hell, yes, Bobby would think of that. The question was, could she get it to work?