Puddles and Whiskers, WDB Two Days Ago…

Previously.

Thank you readers looking for Puddles and Whiskers for wading through all of the Motor City Comic Con posts. This is an expanded first half of Two Days Ago. There is a second half, but that will be next week…because the weirdness I wrote about expecting has a little while longer to go. At least Wil Wheaton and a high-five happened. 🙂

Two days ago…

“You’re positive you can get the information?” Puddles said.

“Trust me,” came the reply from Chuck’s image in the upper corner of the windshield.

Whiskers right ear leaned to the side emphasizing the doubt on his face. Puddles shrugged.

“We’re counting on you Chuck,” Puddles stated as she ended the call with the push of a button on the steering wheel.

Line disconnected, Puddles shook her head at Chuck and the traffic. She glanced over at Whiskers who continued working on his tablet oblivious to the traffic around the Bullet Magnet. The Stroud City Police Center for one half of Stroud, a three hundred story white tower, illuminated day and night, large holographic letters and images over the surfaces of the building announcing alerts, awards, and other news. Called by the Bullet Magnet because of the round entrances for traffic dotting the sides of the building, like someone sprayed gunfire at the building. Traffic around the Bullet Magnet, thick with flying vehicles entering and exiting the multiple flight lanes, made navigation a pain. Lining up her approach for the 40th-floor landing pad, Puddles turned on the autopilot and turned to Whiskers.

“What has you working hard?”

Looking up from his tablet, “Research.”

“Oh,” shaking her head. “What are you hoping to get from Detective Orte?”

“Current information on the gangs.”

“That could be useful. Anything about the doc’s daughters?”

“No. Chuck will get their CIS data.”

“If he remembers,” Puddles said sarcastically.

Two Stroud City black and yellow police vehicles fly past their car, lights flashing and sirens blaring. At the same time the landing chime sounded, Puddles turned to take control if necessary. Through the rounded entry to the 40th-floor landing pad, she watched non-stop motion police and civilian vehicles flying in, out, taking off, and landing. Police Officers in their black and yellow uniforms and citizens in all sorts of uniforms moving all over the place. Puddles briefly wondered where their car would land without hitting another vehicle or crushing someone underneath. As quickly as the thought flashed through her head, the car landed without incident.

Whiskers put away his tablet and checked his skin watch, “Five minutes to our appointment.”

“Lead the way,” she responded as a blast of air nearly knocked her back into her seat.

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