Torn (Second Sight)
“Mac said, pointing at the video. “That’s her.” He stood just behind Officer Dadashian, seated at the computer terminal. Mac hunched lower and closer. “It looks like she’s unconscious.”
Dixon and Isabelle leaned closer as well. “From this angle,” Dixon said. “It’s hard to tell.”
At the exit from the hospital to the parking structure, the camera looked down from the ceiling.
“Watch what happens,” Dadashian said as the video continued to roll.
In silence, the four of them watched the sketchy black and white image. The Chameleon was dressed in a white lab coat over slacks and a shirt and tie. His hair was grey, as was his mustache and beard, and he wore thick rimmed glasses.
As he wheeled Angela up against a white van, turned her around and locked the wheels, it was clear she was unconscious, her head strapped to the headrest of the wheelchair. The Chameleon checked his surroundings, opened the sliding door of the vehicle, and then undid Angela’s belt and head strap.
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