Spray - Dennison, JigsawThe black plane reeled back in shock at this. His eyes went wide and he tensed, gritting his teeth at Dennison's words. His mind was now reeling as he heard the seeming finality of Dusty's fate. But what did this car mean?! "Just who are you?!" he roared. "And what did you mean by that?!" His engine revved in his slim airframe as he eyed this car with a hard gaze in his brown eyes.
As he backed up though, Spray's radar tickled his conscience and he looked over at Jigsaw as the larger plane emerged from another street. The older warplane asked him if he was all right and Spray nodded, feeling his heart rate slowing. "Yeah. I'm fine," he said.
In truth he was worried now. What was happening to Dusty? Spray looked back at the direction of Dusty and his eyes were filled with concern. As he stared in that direction, something niggled at his brain and concern gave way to fierce determination. Those guys wanted Dusty, did they? Well, not in his watch! Inside his fuel tank he felt a familiar burning-like sensation, one he got whenever a case threatened someone's life. He knew what that was, having felt it many times before. His drive and determination.
Now he needed answers. He got on the radio a few moments later, using a direct link to the FBI headquarters in St. Paul. "FBI HQ, this is Special Agent Spray Krane! I need information on a car that calls himself Agent Dennison! He's a black Studebaker Avanti, an older model car! And I also need to know: Are you really pulling the plug on the Hiram Carew case?"
He hoped he'd get the answer soon.
((Hey, Dusty! You can do one of Spray's superiors, if you want.

))