Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Of course their client hadn't done the research for his tell-it-all blog about the paramilitary group himself - dumb luck had led him to a run-down bar in the middle of Arizonan nowhere one evening. Late in the night, over a couple of beers too many, a young man had told him his life's story: Violent childhood, school drop-out, the paramilitary group becoming the closest thing to a family he had for a while - till they rounded up on a helpless old man and almost beat him to death.
After hearing that they felt determined to solve this case more because of the young man than because of their actual client.
Nevertheless Winston insisted they'd keep Guerrero out of it, he should concentrate on snooping through Michele's things. "We'll figure this out ourselves." Then he had hacked into the Arizonan bar's credit card bills of the night in question, more ruthless and determined than Chance had ever seen him.
"I do know a thing or two about computers", he snarled as he presented the rest of the team with a name. He would have never admitted it, but countering the various spy ware programs Guerrero had installed on his computer over the years had taught him well.
The name alone, however, wasn't very helpful. After breaking away from the paramilitary group the young man, Sean Walding, had gone into hiding. Now, unless you've got help from a professional of Guerrero's league, "going into hiding" wasn't really going into hiding, it was more like becoming a little less visible. An hour of research later and Winston (with a little secret help from Guerrero, who quietly adjusted Winston's search parameters) located Walding in Texas, where he was working for a private security company under a different name. He seemed to be pretty paranoid, though. Had changed his address at least a dozen times.
"This weekend he's working as a security guard at a big hard rock event, the Solemnstone Festival", Winston explained to the others, showing them a selection of advertisements that announced several high class acts and a live band reunion.
"Impressive", Ames remarked.
Chance raised an eyebrow at her You like hard rock?
She gave him a mischievous smile. I'm full of surprises.
"I've heard of Solemnstone, but I've never heard of that town", she then said out loud, turning away from him but keeping that smile.
"One of those middle-sized towns hit especially hard by the economical crisis of the past few years." Winston changed to a picture of the area where the concert was supposed to take place. "Used to be the premises of a huge slaughterhouse with adjacent meat factory. Most buildings are torn down by now, leaving huge free spaces in between the rest, ideal to set up multiple stages and simplifies electricity supply."
"We should try and talk to Walding there. Will spook him a lot less than knocking on his door", Chance suggested. No one disagreed.
"What are we going to do, pose as concert goers?" Ilsa critically studied the photo of the former slaughterhouse's premises. The area was roughly horseshoe shaped, with four entrances and seven exits, two of them solely reserved for rescue forces. "This looks pretty vast."
"I'll show up at their HQ as an additional police officer from Amarillo - administrative assistance. Will give me the chance to access their duty roster, so I can see where Walding is positioned. Thus I can direct Ames - she'll impersonate a reporter from some local radio station. This'll give her an opportunity to chat him up without raising his suspicion." Chance looked at Ames who nodded in agreement, now concentrated and serious.
"Winston and Ilsa back us up as actual concert goers - you in the VIP lounge", he looked at Ilsa, "and you among the masses."
Predictably, Winston puffed up in protest. "Why can't I be administrative assistance? I've been a cop for twenty years and..."
...and with his size there was nothing he hated more than having to squeeze himself through huge throngs of people.
Which of course Chance and the others knew. But Winston was so on edge at the moment... and so not really into this job... As a concert goer he'd be off Guerrero's back and at the same time could not cause too much harm with erratic behavior.
Winston knew Chance long enough to see when arguing was fruitless. Grumbling, he accepted his part of the plan. "What about him?" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the client, eating take away Chinese food in the lobby and apparently not liking it.
"Excuse me?", he yelled. "I'm not sure if you realize this, but if you're aiming at protecting people, maybe your first step should be serving them less fatty food. This is surely sky rocketing my cholesterol level!"
"He'll stay with Guerrero, here in San Francisco."
Winston looked at Chance for a moment, then slowly an evil smile spread across his face. "Oh, I'm sure our partner Mr. Guerrero will get you something healthier when you're staying with him", he addressed the client, yelling over to him from the conference room. "Just ask him nicely."
Ilsa briefly wondered if she should somehow object. They were pretty much throwing the unsuspecting man to a rather unscrupulous wolf - her inner eye showed her the client, tied up into a nice bundle on the floor of Guerrero's dungeon, after demanding organic vegetables and meat from species-appropriate husbandry.
But then the good man put his take out box down, looked around and said: "Man, you should really hire a competent interior designer for this place! This style is so outdated!"
"Yes, let's leave him to Guerrero", she agreed.