Yok by Tim Davys Read Free Book Online Page B

up inside Au Sultan and went as a group
to the door. Antonio Ortega realized that he was exposed. He saw the police vans
parked a block south as the door behind him opened.
    He had no plan when he started running. Planning
was not his strong suit. The street was blocked to the south by the police vans,
so Fox ran north. There the riot squad appeared from the alley, and formed a
wall with their shields.
    â€œNow we’ve got him,” said Schleizinger, who along
with the police chief was standing in the window observing the drama.
    As Fox Antonio Ortega continued running toward the
riot police, neither the prosecutor nor the police suspected mischief. It was a
desperate action in a tight situation, and even though they both witnessed what
happened, they could hardly believe it.
    Fox kept running; the riot squad got into
formation, a single stuffed animal on his way toward a wall of heavily armed
police officers. The situation was so peculiar that no one thought about the
fox’s speed. It was only afterward that someone said they had never seen a
stuffed animal move so quickly. The riot police worriedly drew their weapons.
When little more than five feet remained between the fox and the wall of police,
some of the officers maintained afterward that they had seen the mattress
abandoned by a garbage can. The next moment the fox used that same mattress as a
launching pad and flew over the police wall with a good margin.
    The jump was nine feet high and twenty-six feet
long. The whole thing was over in a few overwhelming seconds, and the fox
continued running along the street while the riot squad clumsily turned around
and gave chase. Hawk Schleizinger knew only too well how this race would
end.
    â€œUnbelievable,” said Manuela Hamster.
    â€œDepressing.” Schleizinger sighed.
    â€œFox Antonio Ortega, you said? No record? No
criminal connection?”
    â€œHis father is in jail, accused of lottery fraud,”
Hawk replied. “But that’s not much to go on.”
    â€œI want to recruit him,” interrupted Hamster, who
had not been listening.
    In the car on the way home Hawk Schleizinger
considered his options. That Fox Antonio Ortega was after the chief prosecutor
was obvious, as was the fact that the fox would not give up. But what did he
want? Among the furious, embarrassed, and frustrated emotions that sojourned in
Schleizinger’s chest, he discovered a feeling of curiosity, which surprised him.
For once it felt important to find out the fox’s underlying motives. The
prosecutor nodded to himself. That’s how it was. The whole thing was so strange
that he wasn’t reacting reasonably. Which in a way was logical. And because he
was a very logical animal, he felt satisfied with that conclusion.
    F ox
Antonio Ortega did not show up on the surveillance monitor until midnight that
night. By then Hawk Schleizinger had already been waiting an hour. The chief
prosecutor had put on his nightclothes, and stared intently at the screen as he
grabbed the phone and gave Smithson the order.
    â€œDon’t do anything!”
    Without waiting for the security chief’s protests
he hung up, tied the sash of the robe tighter around him, and left the house
through the terrace door. He crossed the lawn on the back side, and used the low
iron gate to make his way onto the street.
    The fox was standing in the shadow of a tall maple
tree that had grown up from under the asphalt of the sidewalk. Even though the
prosecutor crossed the street with determined steps, the fox remained quiet and
expectant.
    Cars stood neatly parked along the sidewalk on the
street in Amberville and the glow from the nearest streetlight made the
prosecutor’s beautiful silk robe glisten. Otherwise the night was completely
still.
    Schleizinger knew that Smithson and the security
force were watching him in frustration from inside the house. When he had a few
feet left to Ortega he stopped.
    â€œI am Hawk