Fury From Within

Chapter Ten

Jim walked about the ferry’s main car deck, looking for any signs of the suspect’s car. A Police Officer for 11 years, he knew people panicked in the heat of the moment, so he made an effort to check all black vehicles. In Jim’s line of business, he had to be aware of all makes and models. There was no room for mistakes on a vehicle description in his book.

While strolling the main deck viewing the captive assembly of vehicles before him, Jim came up with what he thought would be an excellent idea for law enforcement. Run a check of all license plates on the cars as they boarded the ferry. By the time the ferry docked almost two hours later, they could have identified any potential scofflaws or criminals. The ACLU would have a field day on that one, Jim thought.

Carefully navigating down the narrow lanes between the vehicles, he noticed cell phones, suitcases, even wallets lying out on the front seats. It constantly amazed Jim how many people left their vehicles unlocked with valuables in clear sight for all to see. What do they think? Because they were on a ferry, all crime takes a holiday? People will never learn.

Passing the midway point of the car deck, a hint of marijuana hung in the air as he passed a rusting, lime green, 83 Toyota hatch back. Its middle-aged occupants had the windows rolled up and were enjoying the partial ocean view the ferry provided as they happily puffed away, oblivious to anyone around them. Jim walked right past the couple. He didn’t have the time to squash their fun, for two cars in front of the 83 Toyota he saw what appeared to be his prey.

His law enforcement reflexes took over as he approached what looked to be a black, 2005 Impala. Patting his waistband for his 38, he proceeded to the rear bumper of the vehicle. From where he stood he could view the complete interior of the vehicle. Satisfied no one was still in the vehicle, he walked to the driver’s side of the car. Let me just see if the car door is open, looking from side-to-side for any potential witnesses, only viewing the middle aged couple smoking pot 2 cars away, still oblivious to the world around them. Jim cautiously tugged at the handle preparing to walk away if it had an alarm system installed. Not completely surprised, he found the door unlocked.

He quickly slipped into the vehicle.

Jim sat in the driver’s seat for a few moments wondering what in the hell he was doing? Breaking and entering would get him removed from the force if caught. You only live once, he said aloud, leaning over and opening the glove compartment. He removed its contents and spread them on the passenger seat in plain view. He picked through the assorted fast food wrappers, candies, maps and finally, a rental car agreement. Jim chose to start with the rental agreement. He found it registered to a Peter Zarinsko, writing down the name on a piece of paper. The maps were for the Washington DC and Philadelphia areas. He didn’t find anything else that might provide any clues before placing everything back in its place in the glove compartment and exiting the car.

Peter fed the seagulls some of his left over french fries. The seagulls were fighting an aerial duel above him, each jostling for position before swooping in three at a time to feed upon the greasy food, oblivious to their cholesterol levels like their human counterparts. After emptying the remaining contents into the sea below him, Peter could see the outline of Lewes, Delaware before him.

Two loud blasts from the ferries horn informed everyone of the ferry’s intention of docking.

Walking down the crowded metal stairway to the vehicle deck, he noticed a tall white male exiting his vehicle. “What the hell,” Peter said aloud, startling the older couple walking in front of him.

The woman provided him with a nasty scowl.

Peter finally broke free of the main crowd as the stairway suddenly widened allowing him to run down the remaining steps with the speed of a gazelle. He effortlessly moved past the three rows of cars positioned along the base of the steps until stopping at his own car. Peter stood for a moment watching Jim jog back to his own vehicle. There was no time to chase after the man, for they were pulling into port.

Peter quickly entered and closed the door of his car. He had nothing of value in the car. Maybe some change from the tollbooths, looking to see that it was still in the ashtray. He then opened the glove compartment checking to see that his rental documents and maps were intact, satisfied they were, he slammed it shut.

It has to be the FBI, he said aloud.

Peter checked under the front seat of his car locating his weapon, removing it and laying the weapon within arm’s reach. He recited a quick prayer, finishing in time to watch the ferry as it slowly inched its way into the Lewes city dock.

If it’s a fight you desire, I am more than willing to oblige.

With the lowering of the ferries draw-bridge, tens of cars all started their engines in unison. Adjusting his rear view mirror Peter suspected his adversary would call in the car’s location and allow Peter to be “handed-off” to another FBI or unmarked police vehicle. Peter would have to deal with this possibility and quickly.

He was only hours away from achieving his mission and no one was going to interfere, not at this stage.

Jim started back to his own vehicle, leaving the suspect’s car virtually untouched except for the glove compartment. Retracing his steps past the middle-aged pot smoking couple, now evidently feeling more relaxed by the combination of pot and the gentle rocking motion of the ferry. Jim noticed the man calmly point back to the car he had just broke into and silently mouth shame, shame to him, waging his finger at him in jest. This caused his wife to burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Who else noticed? He looked over his shoulder at the car, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He scanned the group of people now coming down the steps from the topside lounge area. The group contained mostly white, elderly tourists heading for a tour bus, included among this group was a well-tanned man with dark hair.

He was staring right at Jim.

Jim picked up his pace. I have to get back to my car and call this in.