Mark Wilson had sat quietly inside VW bus that he had. He was grateful that the vehicle he had driven from Alabama with had been strong enough to tow the van to his present campsite, as the van, while it wasn't fast or anything, it was inconspicuous enough that he wouldn't get serious attention. Especially since all the local police had was his adventure to the college where he'd been on foot. So, since the cops wouldn't know what he was driving, he'd be able to stake out the business and get a few number of pictures to figure out who Harry Jenkins was without any major disturbance.
And so far, that had been a rather quiet affair, which struck him as odd. He'd found the commercial address, a construction company, and yet outside of maybe a few people walking in, there didn't see to be a lot of work going on. No outfits collecting equipment and then heading out to a site or a manage giving instructions was to be seen. Mark Wilson knew about all these sorts of firms and how they operated, and they were usually pretty busy. But so far, he hadn't seen much.
"Surely they can't all be off," Mark thought, "today is a Saturday, which means it's a WORK DAY. The only day off for these sorts of guys is Sunday and holidays."
He continued to grumble to himself as a lone man with blondish colored hair climbed out of an older Ford Ranger pickup truck and began to walk into the Jenkins Construction compound. To his surprise, he saw two people approach him and begin a conversation of sorts, though Mark was too far away to hear what was said. The two newcomers were holding hands like they were on some sort of romantic date and were talking with the man who had arrived alone quiet casually. The lone man even seemed to smile to the two of them, with something that Mark thought amounted to recognition. However, what drew his attention the most was the woman. She was fairly thin and seemed to match a photo he had of Jennifer Harper in terms of build. Her bust looked a little bigger, but Mark assumed that she was either padding her bra a bit, or the photo that Dieter had given him was a bit dated. Regardless, from what he could see, he figured this woman was Jennifer Harper,
"So... here they are," Mark thought to himself and snapped a picture, just to get some look at the man he thought was Harold Jenkins.
Mark continued to watch, but was a bit puzzled when he saw "Harry" go in with the man he had seen get out of the Ford Ranger, leaving "Jenny" alone out on the sidewalk.
"Heh... typical northerner," Mark thought, "no taste, no class, no politeness. Left her all alone when there are bad men about."
The irony of that thought was not entirely lost on Mark. He knew he wasn't a nice guy, but sometimes that was necessary to get ahead in life. Mark was a firm believer in the line: "nice guys finish last." He also figured that he could easily spin his report to Dieter to make it sound as though Harold Jenkins was an impolite oaf who didn't know how to "properly" treat a lady. However, with "Jenny" alone and with the streets seeming to be rather quiet, an idea came to him. He was supposed to make sure that Harry met an unfortunate accident, but he wasn't under any real orders to actually do anything with Jenny. He had only to make sure she made it to the alter alone to marry Dieter.
However, so far, he hadn't had much opportunity to find a spot for such an accident. Not without getting himself caught. He could pretend to be drunk and run Harry down, but he'd risk manslaughter and DUI charges that way. Seeing "Jenny" alone, though, Mark had an idea to arrange for an accident. He could kidnap and blind Jenny and take her back to his campsite out in the woods where he'd be well armed and then send a ransom letter to the Jenkins family with the warning not to notify the police or anyone else if he wanted to "see" Jenny alive. There he could lead Harry into a site where he could meet an accident.
As he thought over his plan, Mark looked up to see Jenny disappear around a back corner of the building and vanishing from view. That sent him scrambling out of the van. With no one in sight, he was quick to move out. He was bigger and stronger than Jenny was for sure, and figured there was nothing some little twig of a girl could really do to him. He rushed across the street and ran toward that corner of the building that "Jenny" had disappeared around. As he rounded the corner, though, Mark found himself facing a major surprise in the form of a uniformed police officer standing behind the open door of his cruiser and with his pistol aimed directly at him.
"Hands up!" the officer, Officer Samson Carter, stated clearly and with his gun ready, in case the Skulk's agents were wrong in their reports that the man was unarmed.
Mark was quick to turn and run, gambling that the officer would struggle getting around his door. Beyond a pocket knife, he had no weapon on him at the moment. He hadn't expected anything that had happened so far. He hadn't expected seeing "Jenny" left on her own, or running into an officer of the law, let alone said officer ambushing him. The loud sounds of the officer's shoes impacting the ground behind him gave him a clear indication that he was being chased.
"Stop! Hand's up!" Samson Carter commanded after the man and continued his pursuit, finding that he was rapidly gaining on the fleeing crook. "This is Officer Carter, I am in pursuit. He is fleeing east toward his van, I am requesting back up."
He didn't think he'd need backup, as he was rapidly catching up with the rook and so far it didn't seem as the guy was armed, but with other officers having moved to try and trap the guy when they got the notice that the man's vehicle was reported as stolen. They waited a short bit before letting the Tachibana Security of what they'd been informed so that they could get uniformed officers in place, and with the officers in place, why not use them. Even though that unlike Yvette Smith who had the physical potential to outrun even a fully transformed weredog, this perp was a normal and Samson knew that he could outperform the crook.
Mark cleared the street but found Samson gaining on him, and kept running. If he stopped to open the van's door, he'd be caught and dragged out easily. He wondered how that officer could run so quick and was still gaining up on him. He pushed himself hard and ran on, periodically looking over his shoulder to see Samson still gaining on him. He pushed himself hard, but he wasn't gaining any ground. After about a block where Samson had gotten close enough to dive at him, Mark tried to zig and zag to keep Samson from diving at him. His success was only partially successful. He kept Samson from diving at him, but in looking back over his shoulder, he didn't notice another police cruiser coming up in front of him.
"STOP!" Samson practically bayed at the fleeting crook once more, only to wince as the guy literally ran into the front fender of his backup. The henchmen hit the side of the cruiser in its front fender and ended up face-planting onto the hood of the car before sliding across it and rolling onto the pavement on the other side. Samson reached down to holster his gun as he rounded his backup's car and began to slow down from a dead sprint. As he came around the car from the front and his backup came from around the back of the police car he found the man trying to climb back to his feet, but he was a bit dazed. Samson also noted that his nose looked a bit bloody, likely from hitting the hood of his backup's car. Thankfully his body cam and his backup's dash cam had likely caught it all.
"On the ground!" Samson commanded as he caught the man by one arm and pulled him onto his belly and twisting the arm back.
Mark was still too dazed to fight and soon found himself in cuffs before he could fully recover. He though he was still seeing stars after hitting the police car's hood.
"Sir, you are under arrest for being in possession of stolen property from Willowdale, Oregon," Samson said to the man, and began to go through the Miranda Rights. "Do you understand these rights?"
"This is all a mistake," Mark answered.
"You can explain that at the station," Samson answered, "You were reported skulking suspiciously around here in a van with license plates that belong to a vehicle... who's owner has been reported missing. As far as that goes, that would make the property stolen. And if we don't trust the answer, we may extradite you to the state of Oregon."
Mark only grumbled. Even if he could talk himself out of a major criminal charge, by the time all the red tape was gone through regarding charges and extradition, not to mention likely adding "resisting arrest and criminal flight" to his charges, he'd likely miss any chance to affect the wedding before it occurred. Things couldn't get any worse for him.