The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (ebook reader 7 inch txt) 📕

buildings. They stopped for a moment and surveyed the area. The three rundown buildings sat side by side. Graffiti was spray painted on the walls and there was trash littering the area.

“See that alley behind us?” Genghis said, while looking over his shoulder. “We can park in there. That will give us a good view of all three buildings.” The alley was in between two tall vacant buildings across the street.

Trent put the Thunderbird in reverse and backed into the narrow alley. A plastic drinking bottle popped, garbage and trash crunched under the weight of the cruiser. Trent slipped it into park and turned off the engine. The alley was just wide enough to open the cruiser doors if they had to. The moon was full, but the alley was deep in the shadow of the two buildings. They could not be seen from the street. Jeff and Genghis were both bathed in the glow of the computer slowly scanning the area for any life signs.

As they sat drinking their coffee, the computer detected several signs of feral cats, rats, and a couple of stray dogs.

“I wonder why those canines are out here?” Genghis pondered in between sips of coffee. “Don’t they have owners?”

“Got me,” Trent responded, speaking a little quickly. “But you know something? We’ve been up for some time now and I’m not tired. Are you?”

“Wow! Now that you mentioned it, you're right. I’m not either.”

“Nope, nope, not tired.” Trent looked around with a little grin on his face, then said, “Not even drowsy.”

“I could run around the block a couple of times.”

“Look at the time,” Trent said. “Nope, not tired. Hey, do you think it could be some form of delayed jet lag or something?”

“Possible! Possible!” Genghis said, flicking his ears.

They both just sat there sipping their coffee with little slurpy sounds and pondering what could be the cause of their alertness. In the first two hours of their stakeout, only one car drove by, music loudly coming from within. They could feel the booming bass pushing against them as it drove by. After another thirty minutes, the computer alerted them of a human walking and entering the area.

“Here we go,” Genghis said. “Coming up on our one o’clock, walking slowly.” At first, they could only hear an odd sound as the person walked. Then he came into view, walking down the sidewalk across the street. He was dressed in baggy, dirty pants and a dress shirt that at one time was probably very nice. The shirt was unbuttoned, mostly because it no longer had buttons and flapped in the light breeze revealing a ripped black Nine Inch Nails t-shirt underneath. He was pushing an old grocery cart, overflowing with filled garbage bags. The sound that they heard as he approached was the left front wheel of the cart. It was spinning wildly around it’s base and clattering loudly on the sidewalk as he proceeded by.

Trent watched intently as the man walked on. Even from across the street he could hear the man mumbling to himself. Genghis quickly accessed a different screen on his computer and scanned the contents of the cart. “Nothing flammable in the cart. Not detecting any amounts of Calbenite or IPF equipment. Some rotting food products, a bottle of a distilled liquid, and clothing, but that’s about it.”

Trent watched as the man stopped walking. “Most likely he’s just a hobo.” Just then the man unzipped his pants and started urinating on an old beer bottle on the ground.

“Geez O’ Cow! That’s disgusting,” Genghis remarked. “Couldn’t he have found a facility somewhere!” They quietly watched as the man slowly swayed back and forth. A seemingly endless stream of urine poured from his body. “Oh! Come on, rummy, move on!” Genghis said. “You don’t even see canines doing that.”

At four-thirty in the morning, they called it quits. The homeless man with the cart was the only person they saw on their first night of the stakeout. They drove back to the Riverside Mall and parked in the same spot they were in early that day.

They put the top on, rolled up the windows and locked the doors, then went below. The effects of the coffee were finally wearing off and they both proceeded to their respective cabins and slept until eleven o’clock that morning.

Chapter Twenty-One

Genghis got up and found Trent in the galley fixing something to eat. He was standing in front of a computerized oven wall unit. Removing a steaming dish from the oven, he turned and placed it on the table that was bolted to the floor in the middle of the small galley. “Would you like some? I made enough for both of us.”

“Yeah, sure,” Genghis said, as he hopped onto one of the chairs.

Trent got out two plates and slid one toward Genghis. He then grabbed a serving spoon and scooped out the contents and slapped it on the Doberman’s Pinscher's plate. It was something similar to scrambled eggs, but very different. He then placed some on his own plate and sat opposite from his partner.

They ate in silence for a few moments then Genghis said, “I sent our latest report to headquarters.”

“You get a response back?”

“Yeah, just the usual. They’re pleased with our progress, anxious for us to stay under the radar, blend in with the locals, blah, blah, blah.”

Trent looked at his partner, “You didn’t tell them about the news-paper article, did you?”

“Hell no! What they don’t know won’t interfere with what we’re trying to do.”

“Yes, I agree. We don’t need them more worried than they already are.”

They finished breakfast and Trent went to his cabin and changed into his black, linen suit with white shirt and solid dark, blue tie. He put on the trench coat to conceal his shoulder holster of weapons, then found Genghis in the science lab, checking on the status of the cruiser.

“Everything is operating normally,” Genghis said as Trent entered.

“Excellent!” They both proceeded to the stairs leading to the upper deck.