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  • The ventilator was screaming it's alarms as they entered the I.C.U. Their man lay in the threshold of Sonny's room, a single hole in his forehead. The I.C.U. bed was empty.

    Bobbie ran to the security office of the hospital and began running the security tapes from each monitor for the past hour. The marshals were looking over her shoulder when she saw at least four and possibly five men enter from the darkened loading dock. "That doesn't look like a single twenty-something on a personal vendetta," she said, "Or a marshal gone bad."

    They watched as one by one the cameras leading to the I.C.U. went dark. While questioning the nursing staff they discovered the tube connected to the ventilator had been slashed. Sonny had been kidnapped with the breathing tube still in his lungs. Even if he could breath on his own, the pain would be intense without some kind of narcotic to ease the stress on his trachea.

    Out in the employee parking lot the breathing tube was discovered in a pile of foul smelling mucus. It must have been ripped from his throat as they shoved him into their vehicle. The only security camera still working on the lot caught two cars racing away from the hospital. Neither one had tags. They were both late model Buicks.

    By the time Bobbie called in the Bolo, they had already been discovered abandoned downtown. Both had been reported stolen that morning from the dealership on Grand Ave.

    Other than seeing that it was a crew rather than a single person who did the kidnapping, they were at a loss to solving the case. Bobbie thought that whoever was doing this must have found Sonny's fingers in the till. If it was the cartel he was toast. They may never get any answers from him.

    The two marshals suddenly realized they had better bring in Macklin or he could be next on the list...
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