Target Omega

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Garin drove to the rear of the U-Store-It facility off of Dale Boulevard and parked the Jeep out of sight of both street traffic and the security camera hanging under the western eave of the building. He picked up a discarded newspaper and approached the camera perpendicularly so he could remain out of its range.

Garin had to ditch the Jeep. It was registered to Thomas Lofton, and the police and FBI, if they weren’t already searching for the vehicle, would be doing so shortly. He walked to the storage bay he rented — unit 53—at the northeast edge of the facility and lifted the overhead door, revealing a navy-blue 2006 Crown Victoria. The registration form in the glove compartment stated that it belonged to Mark Webster.

Garin opened the trunk and lifted the carpeted bottom that covered the well housing the spare tire. Inside were a variety of supplies and an arsenal of weapons and ammunition sufficient to wage a small but respectable war, including an MP5 submachine gun, a Taurus 608, a Glock 17, a couple of tactical knives, several flash bangs, and even a vanity Desert Eagle. He retrieved several nutritional bars and a bottle of water and closed the trunk.

Garin opened the passenger-side door and pulled a soft leather case from the glove compartment. Inside he found a current driver’s license for Mark Webster along with several major credit cards in Webster’s name. He would use the credit cards only in an emergency — relying on cash instead. Removing the Lofton license and credit cards from his pocket, he threw them onto the floor of the Jeep and doused the vehicle with a five-gallon container of gasoline. When he was done, he threw the container onto the floor of the Jeep, too, before lighting a match.

As Garin pulled out of the empty lot in the Crown Victoria, he glanced once in his rearview mirror, seeing nothing but an eruption of orange-yellow flames consuming the vehicle.

Good-bye, Señor Lofton.