Edge of Tomorrow by Wolf Wootan Page A

Latino one. Their English is very poor.”
    “Thanks, Carlos.”
    As Carlos ambled over to another table to
check on a customer, Hatch retrieved his Blue Phone and called his
Florida office, which was not too far from the restaurant. When the
call was answered by the receptionist, he asked for Sara Smith.
    “Sara, this is Hatch. I’m having lunch
at The Blue Grotto
… ”
    “Alone?” she interrupted.
    “Yes, alone! My meeting ran later than
expected. However, there is a gorgeous lady sitting not far away.
Maybe I’ll see if I can pick her up! Bring her home to Mother Sara
to be interrogated!”
    He laughed, and so did Sara.
    “Look, Sara. This gorgeous lady has two
swarthy guys eyeballing her. They look Middle-eastern to me and
Carlos says they talk with a heavy accent. They’re wearing hot,
black suits. It doesn’t compute. Can you check with the Terrorist
Desk in Virginia and see if we have a record of any of our Hot List
creeps coming into Florida? I’ve got one of those feelings about
these guys. Maybe you should send someone over here with a
telephoto digital camera so we can get a picture of these guys to
compare against our data base. Also, run a check on the woman. Her
name is Sydney Steppe.” He spelled it for her.
    “You are a fast worker. Got her name that
fast? OK, Hatch. That ‘feeling’ of yours is correct more times than
not. I’ll get Danny on the way over there with his camera, then
I’ll call the Virginia office,” Sara replied.
    “Thanks, Sara. Call me, one way or another.
Tell Danny these guys will be easy to spot. They are presently east
of my table and are wearing dark suits.”
    “Wilco,” she said and hung up.
    Hatch put his sunglasses on so he could watch
the two more easily without being noticed. Carlos delivered lunch
and another glass of wine to the lady and she began to eat. It
appeared to be a pasta dish from where Hatch was seated. The two
men kept glancing her way. Occasionally, they would glance over
their shoulders, nervously.
    Even if they are not terrorists, there is
something fishy going on here. They are stalking that woman, I
think. After Danny gets here and gets their pictures, I’ll see what
I should do about this. There is nothing the police can do, or
would do, based on my suspicions. I’ll just wait and see what, if
anything, develops.
    He noticed that the woman had finished her
lunch and had signaled Carlos for another glass of wine. Carlos
acknowledged her order and headed back to the bar. She then arose,
picked up her purse, and strode across the deck in the direction of
the restrooms, which were around a corner and out of sight of
Hatch’s table. Hatch loved the way she carried herself!
    Shit! he
thought. No sign of Danny yet. I can’t
keep her in sight and still watch the two creeps. Do I follow her
or watch them?
    That question was answered immediately as the
two men got up and followed the Steppe woman toward the restrooms.
As they passed his position, Hatch got up and followed, but not too
closely. Ms. Steppe disappeared around the corner, and the men
quickened their pace. So did Hatch. The pair disappeared around the
corner about ten steps ahead of Hatch. About eight steps later,
before he had rounded the corner, he heard a woman’s voice yell
out.
    “Hey! What are you doing, assholes!”
    Hatch dashed around the corner and saw that
each man had grasped one of her arms, and they were trying to drag
her through an archway that led to the employees’ parking lot. A
white-haired woman came out of the Ladies’ Room and screamed when
she saw the woman being assaulted.
    The two men looked up at the screaming woman,
startled. With a quickness and smoothness that surprised Hatch, and
certainly her assailants, Ms. Steppe stomped the instep of the man
on her left, which caused him to loosen the hold on her left arm.
She whirled to her right and sent her left knee into the crotch of
the man holding her right arm. He doubled up in pain and let go of
her.