Protect & Serve(29)

“Captain Pierce.”

“Captain, it’s Detective Williams,” I said, carefully hugging the side of the highway. “I just talked with Officer Kimball. They took off ahead of us with the lights and sirens on. Said they were headed up to the safe house early on your orders.” I paused, trying to think of some excuse for prying. “…should I help?”

The captain was quiet for a moment. In that silence, I read his thoughts loud and clear, but my stomach still lurched when he finally voiced them. “I didn’t send them, Detective, and I didn’t assign any rookies to escort Mr. Hale to the hotel.”

My blood ran cold. I hung up immediately and got back on my radio. “All units, we have a possible breach of security at the safe house. I repeat, a possible breach of security at the safe house.” I flipped on my lights and sirens and hit the gas as hard as I could. “Officer Kimball may have been compromised. He’s got a five-minute head start. Full speed ahead, K.”

But just as the other cars lit up around me, I saw Kimball’s cruiser coming down the opposite side of the highway, lights off but doing at least ninety. There were bullet holes along the side and one of the taillights was shot out.

“Shit!” I snarled, turning the wheel hard into the grassy median and spraying dirt and grass all over the road.

The cruiser bounced over the ditch and scraped hard on the incline. The back end tried to fishtail, but I got everything back under control as I forced the old tired crown vic up over the shoulder and onto the road. Her engine screamed as I put my weight on the gas, shifting gears until I was hitting a cool ninety-five miles an hour, dodging between the four lanes of traffic.

“Car nineteen in pursuit,” I reported over my radio, shifting again as the single taillight of Kimball’s car came into view. “Got ‘em in my sights.” I squinted past the sun glaring off the tinted back window. “Witness is in the car. I repeat, they have the witness, K.”

“Ten-four, car nineteen,” dispatch replied in that even tone of voice they all had down to a science. “Can you see his condition, K?”

“Negative, but he’s alive. K.”

I could see Nathan moving in the back seat, but I had no idea why. They could’ve just killed him at the safe house. My heart thudded so hard I was sure it would crack my ribs. “I need backup, K.”

“Sending units. What’s your position, K?”

“Headed southbound. Just passed mile marker one-twelve approaching the mid-town exit. K.”

Please don’t turn, please don’t turn, I prayed. If they got off there, it’d put us in the traffic-heavy streets filled with civilians, and dispatch would order me to back off.

But they probably knew that, which was exactly why they swerved at the last second and barreled straight down the exit ramp into the warehouse district.

Motherfuckers!

I cut off at least three other cars crossing lanes to follow and narrowly missed clipping the exit sign as I took the same path. Kimball’s cruiser was nosing past the truck stopped at the light, and I took the shoulder to get behind him, hoping to cut him off before he blew the intersection.

“Suspects took the mid-town exit. Car nineteen still in pursuit, K.”

“Halt pursuit, car nineteen,” dispatch predictably ordered. “Civilian concentration is too high, K.”

I shook my head, hot tears burning the corners of my eyes. Goddammit, they weren’t going to walk away from this. Not again.

Peter Wallace had killed enough people. I wasn’t going to let him add Nathan to that list.

“Negative, dispatch. Car nineteen still in pursuit. We’re eastbound on Fontaine Boulevard. Requesting backup, K.”

The dispatcher sounded a little rattled now, as though they weren’t sure how to respond to resistance. “Car nineteen, halt pursuit—”

“Negative,” I repeated. “Send backup, K.”

And then, lowering the volume down to a dull chatter, I watched as Kimball’s cruiser surged into the intersection and followed suit.

It was harder for both our cars to maneuver here. Sure, they’d slowed me down, but they weren’t faring much better. Fontaine was busy this time of day, and traffic tended to bottleneck up ahead at the Carthage intersection. The only advantage either of us had was that we were in police cruisers, and the lights and sirens were enough to convince most cars to move out of the way.

“C’mon!” I shouted at a teenage girl who froze when she saw my lights. She hesitated, trying to figure out which way to go. “Get the fuck out of the way!”

Up ahead, Kimball’s car was making steady progress toward the red light. It wasn’t going to stop. I was going to have to take more drastic measures.