Derrick had a monitor strapped to his arm displaying all policed traffic. If Steven's car drove by any intersection, the licence plate would be marked, and show up on the screen. Derrick couldn't hack into the police database, but he did have a low-tech hidden camera watching at a convenient police station, looking over the shoulder of an underpaid officer.
An alarm blipped on Derrick's small terminal. He had found Mr. Vance.
He toggled his joystick, and the generator in his huge backpack fired up even louder.
Derrick was sitting in a bubble of solid energy, high up in the air, generated by technology in his backpack that not even he, the inventor, completely understood.
He directed himself to the correct street, saw the Coolex limousine, and zipped down to street level.
He clumsily stopped about a foot too low, and the bubble under his feet crushed the asphalt. A ripple of dust and chunks of road went flying in every direction.
Derrick had landed right in front of the oncoming limousine.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment