The Millennial Box, Julie Steimle [classic books for 12 year olds .txt] 📗

and steered her away from the men and back to their bike. She seemed likely to throw the man into a headlock, or perhaps start a keen fight. Taking her place opposite Agent Sicamore, he said, "Stop wasting time. Take us to the other things. There isn't anything to see here that you already don't know."

The man glared at him, hissing through his teeth. "Back off from my family."

But Jeff laughed, taking a step back. He glanced to the others around them then said in a hush, "Have you told them about your family? All of it?" A smile cracked across Jeff's face. He started to speak loudly, "Do they know your parents are - "

Sicamore slapped his hand over Jeff's mouth, breathing hard. The agent's eyes bulged in fear, nearly popping out of his head.

Jeff backed up with a smile. "Really, Sicamore, you can't threaten me when you have more to hide than I do."

He walked back to his bike. Zormna was already sitting astride, having watched them with a smirk. She was now adjusting her helmet.

"Shall we go now?" he asked with an innocent smile.

Agent Sicamore breathed hard, clenching his fists while glaring at the boy. All of the other men watched him, wondering what had occurred in that small moment. The remarks about his family had puzzled them. The FBI did know Sicamore's family had been threatened, but they did not know what Jeff was about to say about them.

Steele walked up to him. "Would you mind telling me what just happened?"

Sicamore did not say anything. He shook his head and strode back to his sedan. Agent Keane watched him and peered back at others. Hayworth kept shrugging and gazing back at the pair as Jeff was telling Zormna to budge up so he could sit behind the handlebars. He could hear him say to her that she couldn't drive because she did not have a biker's license, and she growled at him that her back was getting sore from sitting on the tail end.

"Pretty little thing," Steele muttered as he tromped back to his bike.

The other agents shot him reproving looks, going back to their cars. They all headed back to Orlando.

"Goodness," Zormna murmured, staring at small moving van. It had several perforations along the side that had been made by bullets. The front windshield was smashed as well as the left side mirror, which had obviously been shattered by a bullet. There was no way they could hide this evidence in public. They were inside an empty garage, well locked up since it had been left there. Jeff did not even touch it when he hopped off his bike. Zormna kept shaking her head with her arms folded.

"You don't think they broke it, do you?" she asked Jeff as he walked around the vehicle.

"Doubt it," he replied. Then turning around toward Agent Sicamore he asked, "Do you have any gloves?"

Eyeing him, Sicamore asked, "What for?"

Agent Hayworth pulled out a pair of surgical gloves, but held them out tentatively.

"To look around inside. I don't want my prints on this," Jeff said.

Agent Sicamore nodded and Hayworth handed Jeff the gloves. Steele was already inside the truck, searching with his own glove-covered hands.

But Jeff tossed the gloves to Zormna. "Put those on."

She caught them and shook her head at him, but she slipped them over her small hands all the same.

"I'll watch from here," he said, eyeing Sicamore and Simms as he stood back.

She nodded and climbed into the open front seat. They both watched her peer over and paw the seat, the dash, the floor and under the seat. She pulled out a bullet.

"Found one," Zormna said, holding the bullet up.

Taking it from her, Agent Simms stuffed it in a plastic bag. "Must be one we missed."

Zormna smirked. She dived back into the vehicle and then sat in the seat. She looked as if she was going to start up the motor and drive off with the truck, but she merely moved around as she sat, peering at angles and broken pieces.

"They weren't very good aims," she said at last.

"What?" Agent Sicamore gaped.

Steele came out from inside the back. He carried out what was left of the crate they had shipped 'the box' in. "They had made sure the box was there. These people are thorough."

Jeff nodded, pursing his lips.

Zormna stepped out of the front seat and landed back on the pavement. "Let's see the bodies."

"What about the truck?" Agent Simms snapped. "What did you find out about the truck?"

She glared at him. "I told you. They were lousy shots. They wasted ammunition because they couldn't shoot well. That means whoever they are, they weren't professional."

"Professional?" Agent Keane murmured, glancing back at the vehicle.

Zormna nodded. "Yes, professional. They weren't trained to shoot. I could have gotten the driver in one shot."

"That's enough," Jeff said, wrapping his hand over her mouth before she said anymore and made herself sound bad.

Steele blinked at her with a step back. "You were trained to shoot? Where?"

Shaking Jeff's muffling hold off, Zormna snapped back irritably, "Oh, for goodness sake, Jafarr, they already know I was raised in a military school."

He rolled his eyes and let go.

Steele, however, looked at the two teenagers and then at Sicamore.

The agent felt the stare and explained quietly, "This young lady here is particularly skilled in that sort of thing. I guess I should have told you about her."

The bounty hunter gazed at the FBI agent and said dryly, "Apparently there is a lot you haven't told me. Perhaps I should be briefed sometime? Hmm?"

Agent Sicamore nodded. Then he gazed at Steele and asked, "What have you seen? What can you say about that?" pointing to the moving van.

Steele peered at Zormna and then at Jeff. He said, "I'd say she's right about their aim. I wouldn't discount them being professional though." Zormna huffed, hearing him. "It seems that they were very thorough. They picked a desolate spot. They knew the route your men would travel, and they took plenty of ammunition to take care of the job. They knew how to force the truck off the road, and I think I can say they meant to kill everyone on board."

Agent Sicamore nodded. He looked to Jeff.

Seeing his expression, Jeff held up his hands. "Don't look at me. I would have just stolen the thing."

Steele blinked at him, rather surprised at Jeff's open admittance.

Zormna snickered, smothering it with the back of her hand.

"What is so funny?" Agent Keane snapped. He was sick of seeing Zormna laugh at Jeff's remarks as if they were some inside joke.

She choked on a chuckle. "I just think," she said while looking at Jeff, "that he's very modest." Zormna nearly burst out laughing again, but took good breaths and swallowed them with an innocent looking smile.

The FBI agent rolled his eyes and glared at Jeff, who smirked.

"What?" Jeff said, staring back at the bounty hunter.

Steele shook his head, muttering, "Teenagers."

Sicamore did not find it amusing. He figured Zormna meant that Jeff could take the object without getting caught, no need for violence. And unfortunately, he knew from experience that it was most likely true. Jeff had broken into and out of an FBI facility without getting caught.

"Shall we look at the bodies now?" Jeff asked, nonchalantly.

 Agent Simms glared at him. "This isn't a game, kid."

Jeff glared at that agent. "Call me kid again and I'll - "

"Jafarr! Come on!" Zormna was standing next to the motorcycle, already pulling on her helmet.

Jeff and the FBI agent glared at one another for another minute, but Steele walked in between them, supposedly to get to his Harley.

"Come on!" Zormna called again to her bodyguard.

Jeff relented. Sighing, he turned to go with a nod.

Steele whistled under his breath to himself. "Sweet thing."

Jeff heard him. He blinked and flushed. Then he glanced back at the bounty hunter who was staring at Zormna over his Harley, grinning to himself. Feeling his ears turn hot with a certain protective anger, Jeff marched briskly to his motorcycle and threw his leg over it. He jerked on his helmet and gunned the engine, peering darkly back at the old scruffy looking man.

"Let's go," Jeff muttered to Zormna.

She already clung to his jacket and tapped him on the shoulder to tell him she was ready. Zormna whispered into his hear as they rolled off into the street after Agents Simms's and Keane's car, followed by Steele's Harley. "He's just a dirty old man. I've met thousands of them. Don't worry about it."

The police station had an attachment to the morgue at the hospital, and it was not far from the garage. The FBI agents showed the officers at the station their badges and begged the admittance of the two teenagers and the bounty hunter. Many distrusting glares watched the scruffy biker and the two teens as they marched through the station house to the morgue. The officers stared at Jeff's scarred face and even more so at Zormna's strikingly Aphroditic one. Nearly, because she had a fiercely determined expression fixed on her face, like a goddess irked.

The morgue was chilly. Agent Sicamore pointed to the drawers that held the five agents' bodies. He pulled open the nearest drawer and peeled back the cloth over the man's face. Zormna winced.

"Rigor mortis. Ugh," she said, looking at the blueish-white face.

"You said you wanted to see them," Sicamore said, sounding annoyed.

Zormna nodded, but swallowed.

"Let me look," Jeff said to her. "You don't have to."

Zormna turned her eyes away, thankful for once that he would rather do the job.

Jeff peered over the man's face, then peeled back the cloth to check the rest of the body. "Wounds to the head - right in the forehead...." He murmured. The others leaned over his shoulder and watched him, all except Zormna, who was taking deep breaths and closing her eyes. "Two wounds in the chest, probably shot here first. No. One in the shoulder. That was the first shot. He was wounded before he was killed."

Jeff covered the man and closed that drawer and pulled open the next one.

"Ew. This one was shot many times before he died. Look at this. He had six shots to his chest - probably punctured his lungs and one to his forehead, right smack in the middle. Ugh." Jeff closed that drawer.

Opening the third, he said nothing. Jeff just ticked to himself and then looked up at Sicamore. "Are you seeing the pattern yet?"

Sicamore looked at Jeff, not quite sure what the boy was leading to. The FBI agent replied, "I see that he was shot multiple times and then once in the head. It looks like a slaughter."

Jeff shrugged and closed that drawer. "Could have been, but I don't think so."

He pulled open the fourth drawer. It was the same inside. This man had also wounds in his leg. The shot that killed him was in his head.

"He was shot at close range. I think he was probably inside the back. Am I right?"

Agent Simms nodded. "How'd you know?"

Jeff pointed to the wound in the leg and the one in his side. "These crippled him." Pointing to the one in the head, he said, "This one killed him. Up until now, no one had actually died from the shot in the head. He is the only one they got close enough to do it properly."

His words had an effect on the agents that he had not expected.

"Properly!?"

Agent Simms seized Jeff by his jacket collar and shoved him into the cabinet wall, hard. This jolted the boy, startling him. However, Jeff did not fight back as he would have under normal circumstances. Instead he stared silently at the man's livid face.

Zormna turned around when she heard the sound.

Leaping over to help Jeff, she grabbed Agent Simms's wrist and pinched his nerves with her thumbs. Pain shot in them, forcing him to let go. She forcibly shoved Agent Simms away, glaring. He stumbled back in surprise at how strong Zormna was, while his