The Vanishing Virtuoso

Chapter 10: Provoked

The truck rumbled steadily along the road, carrying Mercer and Grange ever closer to the New York-Connecticut border. The landscape blurred past them, the urgency of their mission pressing down like a tangible weight. Inside the cab, the tension was palpable, despite the occasional light-hearted exchanges between the two.

"How much longer?" Grange asked, glancing at the map they had laid out between them.

"Not long now," Mercer replied, eyes fixed on the road. "We're almost at the state line. From there, it's a straight shot to Queens."

In the backseat, the prisoners were growing restless. The conductor and his drunken accomplice exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Sensing the shift in their demeanor, Mercer glanced in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing.

"Stay sharp," he murmured to Grange.

Before she could respond, the prisoners made their move. The conductor lunged forward, aiming to grab the steering wheel, while the accomplice tried to overpower Grange. The truck swerved dangerously, and Mercer fought to keep it on the road.

"Hold on!" Mercer shouted, struggling with the wheel.

Grange reacted with swift precision. She delivered a solid punch to the accomplice's mouth, blood splattering as he slumped back. Turning her attention to the conductor, she grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully, forcing him back into his seat.

"Nice try," she hissed, glaring at him.

Mercer pulled the truck over to the side of the road, tires skidding on the gravel. They couldn't risk another escape attempt. He and Grange dragged the prisoners out of the truck, the conductor still wincing from Grange's grip.

"We need to secure them somewhere they can't cause any more trouble," Mercer said, scanning the area.

Grange spotted a nearby telegraph pole and nodded. "Over there."

They marched the prisoners over to the pole and used the ropes they had to tie them securely. The prisoners struggled, but Grange's earlier punch had drained some of their fight. Once they were bound to the pole, Grange leaned in close, her voice low and menacing.

"Where exactly is the mill in Queens?" she demanded.

The conductor, realizing their predicament, finally broke. "It's on Railroad Avenue. Near the old tracks. You can't miss it."

Grange nodded, satisfied, and stepped back. Mercer tightened the knots one last time, ensuring they wouldn't escape. He then turned to Grange, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Nice right hook," he said appreciatively.

Grange shrugged, a faint smile touching her lips. "Sometimes you've got to get your hands dirty."

As they walked back to the truck, Mercer glanced over at Grange, a playful glint in his eyes. "You think the FBI can swing by and pick these guys up? Might be a bit out of our way otherwise."

Grange chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I'll make the call when we get near a phone booth. But I'll need to find a good one. Can't have just any random agent picking them up and screwing things up."

Mercer laughed. "Just make sure to tell them to handle with care. We wouldn't want our new friends here to miss their date with justice."

Climbing back into the truck, Grange shot him a mock-serious look. "You just focus on driving. Leave the official business to the professionals."

Mercer nodded, his smirk widening. "Yes, ma'am."

He put the truck in gear and pulled back onto the road, leaving the prisoners secured to the telegraph pole in the rearview mirror. The city skyline of New York loomed ahead, a mix of promise and danger. Mercer and Grange exchanged a determined glance. The mill on Railroad Avenue awaited them, along with the answers they sought. Julian Carver and the truth behind the Digger Gang's sinister plans were within reach.

With renewed determination, they pressed on, ready to confront whatever awaited them in the shadows of Queens.

As Mercer and Grange crossed the state line into New York, the landscape shifted subtly, marking their entry into a new chapter of their pursuit. Grange seized the opportunity at the toll booth to make a crucial call to the FBI. She stepped out of the truck, the toll booth attendant eyeing her curiously as she approached the old-fashioned telephone mounted on the booth.

Mercer waited inside the truck, his mind racing through the events of the past four days. He replayed each clue, each encounter with the Digger Gang, trying to piece together their intentions with the coded words in Julian's last song. The urgency of their mission weighed heavily on his shoulders as he stared out at the passing scenery, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Grange spoke into the receiver, her voice steady and authoritative. "This is Special Agent Grange with the FBI. I need to report two suspects in custody at the Connecticut border. Yes, that's correct. They're involved in an ongoing investigation. I'll provide all necessary details once I return."

She exchanged a few more words, giving her full name and rank to the border guard who listened intently. After a brief conversation, she hung up the phone and returned to the truck, a determined look on her face.

"They'll send a team to pick up our friends back there," Grange said as she climbed back into the truck. "We won't have to worry about them anymore."

Mercer nodded, grateful for her efficiency. "Good. That's one less thing to think about."

Grange settled back into her seat, her gaze focused on the road ahead. "Now we just need to focus on getting to that mill in Queens and finding Julian Carver."

Mercer sighed, rubbing his temples. "I've been trying to make sense of Julian's song. The Digger Gang must have a plan for those coded words. It's more than just a treasure hunt."

Grange nodded thoughtfully. "Agreed. Whatever they're after, it's something big. And dangerous."

Mercer glanced at her, admiration flickering in his eyes. "Glad I'm not the only one seeing the bigger picture."

She smirked slightly. "You're not that easy to impress, Mercer."

He chuckled softly. "Maybe you just bring out the best in me, Grange."

Their banter was interrupted by the sight of the city skyline growing closer. Queens awaited them, and with it, the abandoned mill where Julian Carver was held captive. The truck sped onward, determination and resolve guiding their every move.

As they approached Railroad Avenue, the tension in the air thickened. Mercer and Grange shared a final glance, steeling themselves for what lay ahead. The mill loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the New York skyline.

"We're almost there," Grange said, her voice steady with determination.

Mercer gripped the wheel tighter. "Let's finish this."

With that, they drove onward, ready to confront the shadows and uncover the truth hidden within the walls of the mill on Railroad Avenue.