MORRISON
“Two hours ago.”
The words triggered as my gaze snapped from the screen.
“Last seen two hours ago?”
My voice was quiet, and that was what made every man in the room straighten.
Alex stood across from me with a tablet in his hand. His face was expressionless.
“Yes, Sir.”
I turned slightly, pacing the room. The air in the surveillance room was heavy with the hum of processors and electronics.
It was 3:14 AM. The only illumination came from the massive projector on the wall, displaying footage.
“Still in motion,” Alex said, “moving north on Seventh Avenue.”
“What is the signal strength?” I asked, taking a sip from the glass in my hand.
“Fluctuating. The car is taking the back alleys to avoid the main traffic cams.” Alex responded.
Suddenly, the red dot on the screen vanis
