Suzie was gorgeous, but Andy could never resist looking at other girls who walked by-why was that? Suzie put on her pouty face and stormed off. Andy turned his back to the front door then ducked behind a tall display for Electrolyte Enhanced Water. He peeked around at the brutes in black.
Christ, they were talking to Suzie.
Figure her to find the two fittest men in Whole Foods. And they were fit. But not fit in the Austin way. They were fit in the military way. Their muscles weren't carefully constructed by a high-priced personal trainer for the express purpose of attracting the opposite sex at Whole Foods-although they were sure as hell attracting Suzie. Their muscles were made for fighting. He could read their lips: 'Have you seen Andy Prescott?'
Suzie turned and pointed at the breakfast taco bar.
Thanks a lot, Suzie.
'Andy, your tacos.'
Team Member Brad was holding out two hot delicious breakfast tacos wrapped in aluminum foil. Andy pulled a $10 bill from his pocket, stood with his back to the men, and handed the bill across the counter.
'Keep the change.'
Andy took the tacos from Brad, stuffed them in his pocket, and slowly turned. The men were ten feet away and closing. They had ear buds and were talking into their shirt collars. Andy walked the opposite way.
They followed.
Whole Foods employed an off-duty state trooper for store security. He was standing directly in front of Andy in his olive uniform, tan cowboy boots, and cream cowboy hat; he had a big gun in his leather holster and a bigger belly above it. He would be worthless in a foot chase. Andy walked up to the trooper and pointed back at the two men.
'Those guys are harassing the girls.'
The trooper stepped in front of the men, and Andy broke and ran down the main aisle past the checkout counters and toward the escalators. He was almost there when two more brutes in black emerged from the outdoor market; they were blocking his path to the down escalator.
Shit.
He glanced back and saw that the first two men had evaded the trooper and were now running toward him. Andy ran down the Whole Body System Support aisle, ducked around a display for Complete Body Cleanse (who would do that voluntarily?), and flattened his body against the shelves. When the thugs rounded the corner, Andy stuck his foot out; they tripped and went tumbling into a chlorine-free diaper display.
Andy ran back up the aisle to the checkout lines. He had to draw the other men away from the escalators, so he ran directly toward them until they spotted him and gave chase. Andy cut left at the nut roaster and ran down the bulk aisle lined with large dispensers holding nuts, beans, seeds, and granola. Without slowing, Andy stuck his hand out and slapped open several dispensers, flooding the concrete floor behind him with raw filberts, garbanzo beans, flax seeds, soy nuts, and yogurt maltballs the size of marbles. The first man stepped on the spilled bulk items and slipped and slid like a kid on roller skates then hit the floor hard; the second man stepped on his fallen comrade and vaulted over the organic debris.
He was gaining on Andy.
Andy turned right into produce, grabbed a yellow squash and a purple eggplant, and hurled them at the man; the vegetables did not slow him. Andy came to cantaloupes displayed like a tall teepee; he pulled one from the bottom. The teepee came tumbling down; cantaloupes rolled across the floor in front of his pursuer. He fell.
Andy ran on past the raw foods counter to the rear of the store. He swung left through dairy and past fresh meat and poultry and skidded to avoid an elderly customer at the bread counter. He made a hard left at the chocolate fountain and ran past the olive bar. If he could make it out the food court exit he could run around the parking lot to the garage entrance.
But another thug was blocking the exit.
Damn.
That guy now ran toward him. Andy retreated and ran down the center aisle. He grabbed an empty shopping cart and rolled it at the guy, flung a few cans of organic refried beans at him-which he blocked with his arms as if they were sponges-then knocked over displays stacked high with cans of whey protein and energy drinks. Which slowed the dude down long enough for Andy to cut down the pet aisle offering socially conscious dog toys, through the wine cellar, and into Beer Alley.
Cases of beer were stacked high against the glass walls, so the view from outside the cooler was blocked. He hid behind a stack of Corona Extras. Dang, six-packs were on sale for only $7.99. He hated to pass up a sale, but there was no way he could get out of there carrying a six-pack. So he grabbed a cold bottle, placed the edge of the cap against the shelf, and slapped the top with the butt of his open hand. The cap popped off. He drained half the beer in one long drink.
He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and peeked out the glass enclosure; two of the men were arguing with the trooper over by the Bowie BBQ counter. Now was his chance. It was a straight shot up the chips and salsa aisle to the escalators. He stayed low to the ground until he got to the door of the beer cooler then- damn- one of the thugs spotted him.
Andy darted up frozen vegetables and ran full out to the checkout counters; the escalators were just beyond the counters. But the lines were packed with shoppers and grocery carts. So he dodged a cart, stepped on a stack of bottled waters, and leaped onto the moving belt at a checkout counter.
'Pardon me! Coming through!'
He jumped over the price scanner and then the recyclable brown paper shopping bags and hit the ground again; two big steps and he grabbed the metal railing, vaulted the glass panel, and dropped onto the down escalator. He squeezed past customers and their carts and ran out the doors.
He was in the garage.
The bike was right outside the door, but he fumbled for the combination to the lock; he checked back for the men. He finally got the lock opened and hopped on the Stumpjumper just as the brutes blew out the door to the escalators. He stood on the pedals and raced around the garage; they ran around cars and climbed over cars and tried to cut him off. But he beat them to the Bowie Street exit, flew out onto the street, and turned south. He turned east on Fifth Street, cut through two alleys, and arrived at the loft. He opened the front door and pulled the bike inside.
He had made it.
He stood there a moment to catch his breath. Then he smiled. He had two breakfast tacos. And they were still warm. He went to the fridge, grabbed a Corona, and popped the top. He sat down and ate his breakfast. Protein, carbs, and beer-the breakfast of champions. He had just finished the second taco when he heard noises outside. He went to the window and peeked out.
The thugs were there.
The two black Mercedes-Benz sedans were there. How had they found him in this loft? He watched them through the blinds. They were pointing at the other lofts; there were twenty in this building. They were splitting up and going door to door. Which meant… they knew he lived in one of these twenty lofts, but they didn't know which loft. They had tracked him to this building, but not to this loft. How?
There was a knock on the door.
Andy finished off the Corona, grabbed his sunglasses, and went down a flight of stairs to the one-car garage that sat slightly below ground level. A short driveway ramped up to the street out front where the Mercedes-Benzes were parked.
He hit the light.
The garage was stark white and immaculate; there wasn't a broom, shovel, lawn mower, tool, or grease spot in sight. But parked in the center of the garage was a glossy black American IronHorse Slammer. Seven hundred forty-two pounds and one hundred ten horsepower of pure adrenaline rush. The biggest, baddest, most ass-kicking motorcycle on the planet.
Andy saddled up and ran his hands over the dual gas tanks as if they were Suzie's smooth thighs. The front tire measured one hundred twenty millimeters in width, the back tire three hundred, the better to hold the road. The wheels were chrome Streetfighters and featured disc brakes front and rear. The S amp;S Sidewinder engine beneath him filled one hundred eleven cubic inches of space. The transmission was six-speed with overdrive. The price tag was $42,500.
