The Navigator

Arthur Chambers looked back at the shop as the lights above the entrance darkened. He heard the deadbolt slide into place as he casually scanned the dark street, noting the handful of pedestrians hurrying home now that restaurants and shops were closing. To his right was the dark blue sedan which had followed him from his apartment. He had driven around the city for the better part of an hour to throw them off his trail, and at one point, during a heavy downpour, he believed he had succeeded, but there it was again the same blue sedan. He cursed his stupidity for having thought he could elude them.

Chambers walked across the street, still wet from the rain, toward a small grey Victory automobile parked on the opposite side. He opened the door, squeezed his tall, lean frame into the driver’s seat, and inserted the key into the ignition. “Damn it,” he whispered to himself. Where had he gone wrong? His mind racing, he reviewed the precautions he’d taken and how he’d executed every step of the plan with perfect precision. He could see no flaws or slip-ups. Yet, he’d made a mistake. Otherwise, why would the blue sedan be stalking him? Now that they had him on a leash, they would wait for him to make his move or meet with his contact.