While Burke was starting his hunt, Jack was getting ready to begin another shift. Quickly, he walked into the taxi garage to where a line of cabs were parked. They had been fueled up and cleaned out and were ready to hit the streets. Although a sign declared that the area was for taxis only, a large black SUV was blocking Jack’s cab.
The windows of the SUV were too dark for him to see through, but he had a pretty good idea of who was in there. Once he got close, a door opened and out stepped Frank, a large man whose suit was stretched to the limit trying to cover his massive body.
“Jack,” Frank said, moving toward him, “you don’t return calls anymore.”
Marty, another big man in a suit, stepped out from the other side of the SUV. “Mr. Wolfe thinks you’re being rude,” Marty said.
Their boss was not a nice man. And right now, he was rather unhappy with Jack. Whenever Mr. Wolfe was upset with someone, it was Frank and Marty’s job to deliver threats and, when necessary, physical punishment. They terrified most people, but Jack could be just as intimidating. He stared Marty right in the eye.
“Tell Wolfe that when I said the last time was the last time, I meant it was the last time.”
Frank let out a menacing laugh. “Mr. Wolfe decides when it’s the last time. Not you, Jack.”
Marty decided to try a friendlier approach. “He likes you, Jack. Hates to see you wasting your God-given talent giving fat tourists cab rides up and down the Strip. What kind of life is that?”
“One that I’m late for,” Jack answered as he tried to squeeze past them to the cab’s driver-side door.
Reaching out, Frank went to grab Jack. With lightning-quick speed, Jack gripped Frank by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Frank let out a quick yelp of pain as Jack slam his attacker’s face into the cab’s hood with a loud thud.
Now Marty lunged at him. But Jack managed to grab Marty with his other hand and slam his attacker’s face against the cab. In seconds, Jack had both thugs pinned against the hood.
“Section eight, paragraph three,” Jack said, reciting from the Nevada code of taxi statutes and regulations.“As a fully licensed cabdriver in the state of Nevada, I am within my rights to deny passage to any potential fare I consider dangerous. You are, of course, entitled to file a written complaint with the state.”
Satisfied that he had made his point, Jack released both men, got into his cab, and drove off. As he drove, he attempted to calm his racing heart. The traffic wasn’t helping. Trying to maneuver around it, he glanced in the rearview mirror—and slammed on the brakes. Sitting in the backseat were two teenagers, a boy and a girl, who had definitely not been there before.
Jack stopped right there in the middle of traffic, causing a chain reaction of other cars slamming on their brakes and swerving to miss him. Jack spun around to look at his passengers.
“Where did you come from?” he demanded.
“Outside,” the boy answered.
“I figured that part out on my own,” Jack snapped. “How did you get into my car?”
The girl pointed at the door. “Through that portal.”
Jack couldn’t make any sense of this. Even after the distraction of the argument with the goons, he would have heard, or at least seen, them come through the door. Besides, he wondered, what teenager calls a door a portal?
Traffic was backing up, and angry drivers were honking their horns. With no other choice, Jack put the taxi into drive and started down the street.
“I am Seth,” the boy said. Then he pointed to the girl. “My sister, Sara. We require your transportation services immediately,” Seth continued.
Jack gave Seth a skeptical look and said, “Well, I require—”
Before he could finish, Sara completed his sentence for him. “A currency transaction.”
Again with the strange slang, Jack mused.
Seth reached over the front seat to show Jack a huge wad of cash. “Will this amount suffice?” he asked.
“What did you do?” Jack asked, his eyes wide. “Rob a bank?”
“Is this acceptable, Jack Bruno?” Sara asked.
“Wait,” Jack said. “How did you know my name?”
Sara pointed at the cabdriver’s license, which was displayed by the meter.
“If we have a deal for your services, we must move forward rapidly,” Seth insisted. “ It is urgent we get to our destination without delay.”
Jack hesitated. There was something very strange about these kids, especially the way they talked. Then again, “strange” was a word that could have described many of Jack’s customers. And their money sure was real enough. . . .
“All right, all right,” Jack said. “Where to?”
Seth and Sara shared a look. They didn’t know how to describe where they wanted to go. Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a device that looked a lot like a compass.
“I need an address,” Jack said. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“We need to travel in that direction,” Sara said, pointing to the highway entrance ramp.
Jack almost groaned. Already this was proving to be a troublesome fare. “Gonna need something a little more specific than ‘that direction,’” he said.
Seth nodded. “We must locate latitude 40.54 cross-intersecting longitude 117.48 within a fractional percentage.”
That’s a real help, Jack almost said. Instead, he commented, “I think we’re going to just stick with ‘that direction.’”