Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Winston was a basket case after finding Michele gone. Without actually discussing it, they brought him to the office, called in Doctor Grace for some sort of sedative medicine – a heart attack was the last thing they needed right now – and took turns watching over him while he walked around the office like a zombie, his fine motor skills significantly impaired and his mind only partly present.
After three days Grace slowly reduced the dose. They gradually got their old Winston back, but it was a desperate, broken version of their Winston.
"It does mean she's still alive", Chance tried to somehow console him, but of course this was small comfort. Winston knew that "being alive" did not, in any way, equate to "being well".
They still didn't know why Michele had been abducted in the first place, but whatever it was, it had been important enough to Jennings to risk a kidnapping in broad daylight, on a crowded street in plain view of dozens of witnesses. And to someone else it had been important enough to attack a house full of armed thugs, kill half a dozen of them and risk a gang war.
Jeez, Michele, what have you gotten yourself into?
Ames flirted with the pathologist in charge of the thugs' autopsies and Guerrero got very busy in his dungeon, Chance hung out with a couple of people he hadn't met in years and Ilsa paid huge sums of bribe money in all directions, but for two long weeks absolutely nothing came out of anything they tried.
Then, suddenly, a blip on their radar. A tiny, tiny blip, but a blip. One of Guerrero's guys knew a guy who knew a guy who maybe knew something about the fate of Michele Winston. He was quite spooked, though. They promised him the standard program: utter secrecy, a conspiracy meeting and absolutely no cops.
Since Guerrero was busy tracking one of the guns mentioned in the official police report that was going to be released the next day, Chance went to meet the informant at Pier 39, and Ames was going to back him up. If you want to steal a diamond, hide it in a tiara. If you want to meet someone in secrecy, choose a busy place.
Always a particularly busy place on Pier 39 was the first level at the Bay end of the pier. Dominated by the San Francisco Carousel, a classic 19th century style carousel whose sides had originally been hand painted in Italy, it attracted both local families with children and tons of tourists. The kids lined up for the intricately designed dragons, sea lions, dolphins and panda bears they could ride, the tourists crowded all around it to get a look at and, more importantly, a photo of, the scenes from famous San Francisco landmarks depicted on its outer hull, the Golden Gate Bridge, Coit Tower, Chinatown, Lombard Street, Alcatraz etc. Together these groups created a very chaotic, loud, ever changing environment, with kids running around, photographing tourists walking backwards unexpectedly, loud cries, shouts of joy, people arguing about spots in the line…
All in all – a perfect place for conspirative meetings. Chance recognized their contact immediately – the way he had a Spanish newspaper tucked under his arm and looked around nervously… He wasn't hard to spot. Ames, positioned a little further away, saw him, too. Chance gave the skinny, fidgety man a small nod which he returned even more curtly. Then he turned around and walked away from the carousel, just as they had agreed upon. He'd lead them to a place of his choosing to hand over the information.
Ames was watching from a slightly higher viewpoint, a café's deck. For once everything seemed to be going according to plan. So far there didn't seem to be anyone going after their contact, they had found him immediately, Chance was following him in close pur…
Huh? What the hell was Chance doing? He was stopping dead in his tracks (granted, not that obviously, but he was hesitating), looking at something – someone? – in the crowd… Their contact, oblivious of the delay, was moving further and further away.
"Chance?", Ames asked tentatively via earpiece.
Just then an earsplitting, very high pitched sound shot through the channel they were using, causing her to hastily pull the device out of her ear. People around her were giving her odd stares. Chance was apparently experiencing the same phenomenon, he was pulling the earpiece out, too. What in the world…? It was possible, that some radio frequencies from the carousel overlapped with their own… another explanation was a jamming signal, specifically aimed at them…
Chance turned around, made eye contact with her for the briefest of moments, very slightly tilted his head – Ames understood. Follow the contact. Be careful.
A second later he disappeared in the crowd, heading off in the other direction, towards the less crowded Pier 41 and the boats to Alameda and Alcatraz. Ames hurried to tail their informant.
There are roughly six different methods to get into position to attack a target: Closing, cornering, surprising, pincering, herding and surrounding. Some, such as closing, cornering and surprising, can be pulled off alone, some require teamwork, varying from simple presence for distraction to sophisticated maneuvering.
Pincering is definitely one of the more complicated methods. It involves at least two attackers working together, one doing the distraction part while the other, concealed, sneaks up from behind. Very similar to that is herding, where the adversaries split up to control available routes of escape, with one of them acting as an obvious threat to set the victim in motion and drive him in the right direction. Carnivores do a similar thing in the wilderness… The most sophisticated approach, however is surrounding. A group of thugs spreads out so that the victim passes alongside them. When he or she reaches the midpoint of the group, the wings fold in to trap the unlucky fellow. It is difficult, but experienced attackers can make the whole thing work even in the middle of a crowd.
Chance had done this more than once himself. He recognized a surrounding movement when he saw one. As far as he could see at least six thugs were involved, slowly closing in on their victim-to-be as they drove him towards Pier 41. A very elaborate surrounding maneuver...
Well, with that kind of target, it better be…
Chance was tempted to let him deal alone with whatever mess he had gotten himself into. The informant was threatening to slip away, he was their only lead in two weeks on Michele's kidnapping, Winston was coming apart at the seams, they were at their wit's end and desperately needed a new lead. On the other hand: His pursuers looked damn determined… and he seemed to be all alone. Hadn't he noticed? Where the hell was…?
They had always watched each other's backs…
In the end it all came down to Chance's gut feeling and a quick weighing of options. Talking to the informant was incredibly important, Winston's future depended on it, not to mention Michele's, but Ames could do that, while interfering with that surrounding movement playing out right in front of him was definitely no task he could leave to anyone else but himself.
Chance signaled Ames to take over the contact's pursuit. Did she get the hint? Good girl, she did.
The only way to break out of a surrounding maneuver is to somehow leave the center, as fast as possible.
So, using the crowd as disguise to get closer, Chance approached the whole hunting party just slow enough not to draw their attention. They were now quite a bit away from the crowds of Pier 39 and the thugs might set the last stage of their plan in motion any second. Their routes of escape were quite limited, mildly put.
This could only work with the element of surprise.
Chance sprinted forward, pushed an ice-cream vendor's cart sideways for momentary distraction, grabbed the intended victim, hooked his arm tight and forced him off the pier
After free falling for a split second, they safely landed on a boat, not exactly elegantly, but in one piece.
"WHAT, MATEY?", Baptiste yelled at him angrily.