Pointing to
the stolen cargo van, the Inquisitor ordered Jougs to pull in behind it. By way
of acknowledgement, Mr. Jougs jerked the steering wheel hard to the left. The
Inquisitor gave Jougs a dirty look, but said nothing as the car slammed to a stop
near the discarded shipping containers.
“They’re
gone,” Mr. Vorant murmured from the back seat.
As the men
congregated next to the cargo van, the Inquisitor said, “get your boss back on
the line. The rest of you, spread out. Find them.” When the loader passed over
his silver phone, the Inquisitor said to him, “go.” Into the phone he growled,
“we missed them. Explain why you sent us the wrong way.” He listened for a
moment, then said, “enough. We’re not your errand boys, Top. As far as I’m concerned
we delivered the cargo on time.” Gripping the little silver phone tightly, the
Inquisitor hissed, “that’s your problem. I expect payment as arranged. Don’t be
late.” He hung up the phone, then shouted, “Misters Jougs and Vorant, attend
me.”
