Flee (9 page)

Glass
shattered above under a rain of lead.

Holding
Cory's pistol at the ready, I started up the staircase. People cascaded down,
screaming and stumbling, threatening to sweep me with them. Glass crunched
under my shoes. Finally I shoved my way back to street level. I slipped behind
a sign for the self park ramp. The SUV rounded the corner. I trained Cory's gun
on it, but it was too far away and moving too fast. A stray shot would be more
likely to strike a panicked civilian than my intended target. But they had to
know there was a good probability they'd missed me. In just a few seconds, I'd
get another chance.

I
spotted the white car, it had pulled away from the curb and was moving toward
me still half in the parking lane. I wasn't sure where Cory went, but I was
dead sure of one thing: I wouldn't let his partner get away with Kaufmann. I
leveled my barrel and took my shot, going for the tires.

The
car skidded to the side then overcorrected and bounced up on the curb. The
driver's door flew open.

I
lined up my next shot, ready to take out Cory's partner before he could
retaliate against Kaufmann.

Wait.
Not
he
.

She
.

A
girl jumped from the driver's seat, tall and slim and so young she'd probably
only sprouted breasts in the last week. Long brown hair hung in her eyes. She
took a few steps in my direction, then skidded to a stop and stared at my gun,
her mouth forming an O and her eyes going wide. Her hands hung empty at her
sides.

Just
a kid…

Like I had been.

Another
scream of rubber on pavement. The SUV roared around the corner, coming back the
way it had gone.

It
would be on us in seconds.

I
grabbed a glance at the car, noted the engine was still running, and looked
back at the girl. "Run."

She
did, and so did I.

I
reached the open driver's door of the white car just as the shooting resumed.
Slamming it into drive, I gunned the engine. The car shot forward on the
sidewalk, bucking on the deflating tire. The SUV roared straight at me, bearing
down in a game of chicken I'd never survive. "Kaufmann. Keep your head
down."

I
heard a mumble from the backseat. It was Kaufmann's voice, all right, but I couldn't
make out the words.

In
front of me, the SUV jumped the curb as smoothly as running over a seam in the
highway. Up ahead, a truck idled in the parking lane, the driver either gone or
dead or paralyzed with fear.

I
spun the wheel toward the street. The car flew over the curb and hit hard, the
impact jarring up my spine. I swerved around the idling truck and glanced the
back bumper. Metal screamed against metal. I skidded onto Michigan Avenue, just
missing oncoming traffic.

The
SUV was still on the sidewalk, blocked by the truck, but that would buy me no more
than a few seconds. If Kaufmann and I stayed out on the street, we were dead. I
had to get out of the line of fire. And I had to do it now. I spied the self
park sign and pushed the pedal to the floor. "Hold on."

The
car skidded around the corner, the tire I'd shot flopping. I spotted the ramp's
entrance and the two security guards manning it. One hunkered in the booth, a
phone to his ear. The other stood at the entrance.

I
drove straight for him.

He
stared at me for a second, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, as if
he couldn't comprehend what I was about to do. Finally self-preservation kicked
in. He half-dashed, half-leapt to the side. I crashed through the flimsy wooden
gate and kept going. The parking ramp corkscrewed upward, a tight curly-cue of
poured cement. I followed, pushing the car as fast as I could negotiate the
turn. My passenger side mirror kissed the edge of the half-wall and broke off
with a crunch. The tire I'd shot was useless now. The bare rim shrieked against
concrete. Sparks flashed in the dim light.

The
SUV would follow, of that I had little doubt. But for a few seconds, the
barrage of bullets had stopped.

"Kaufmann?
Talk to me." The odor of blood and sweat and fear filled the car. I did my
best to glance over my shoulder while watching the tight spiral ahead.

A
rustle of movement from the back seat.

Had
Kaufmann been hit? I hadn't seen any holes in the car, but I could have easily
missed them. "Kaufmann? Are you okay?"

"Don't
worry about me."

My
throat tightened. I'd been scared for Kaufmann since Cory's call, but at that
moment, I realized how much. I pushed the emotion back. This wasn't over. I had
to fully focus on what was happening now.

The
spiral opened up, and the car thunked onto the ramp's top level. I swung into a
handicapped spot next to the elevator and jumped out, shucking the duffle and
shoulder bag. I grabbed a glance of Kaufmann through a shattered back window.

He
lay on his side in the back seat. His hands were bound in front of him with
handcuffs, and he clutched a bloody rag around his injured fingers. Duct tape
wrapped his ankles. He looked small, pale, the lines bracketing his mouth and
digging across his forehead etched deep. I was sure the past few hours had
taken their toll, but at least he was alive.

Now
I had to keep him that way. "Stay down."

He
hitched himself up on one elbow. "We need to call the—"

 "You
need to lay your ass back down."

He
didn't move, damn fool. Probably thought he was going to save me. Again. He
didn't realize it was my turn to pay him back.

I
checked Cory's gun and handed it to Kaufmann. He grasped it in his uninjured
hand. I pulled my semi-automatic from the back of my waistband. "Stay
down. If anyone comes looking for you, kill them."

"Carmen,
I..."

"Just
listen to me. Cory isn't as bad as the ones we've got coming after us now.
Shoot first, and shoot to kill."

I
pulled away from his bewildered expression and took position behind a concrete
support. I fitted my weapon tightly into the web between thumb and forefinger
and wrapped my second hand around the first. I moved my index finger to the
trigger. The odors of exhaust and burned rubber coated the back of my throat.
The roar of an approaching engine reverberated off concrete, the sound
amplified by the corkscrew shape of the ramp.

The
music goes round and round…ohhh…and it comes out here.

I
could see the SUV, winding toward me. It emerged on the sixth floor. The moment
I saw the driver's eyes, I squeezed the trigger.

The
report cracked in my ears. I let my wrists move with the kick of the first
shot. When it settled back, I gave him a second tap.

The
windshield cracked, splintering into hundreds of tiny lines, obscuring the
driver's face. The SUV kept hurtling forward, across the parking level. It hit
the half wall hard, reared up as the concrete crumbled, and plunged over the
edge. The loud crash of vehicle and pavement shuddered up my spine.

When
I got back to the car, Kaufmann was sitting upright in the seat, Cory's pistol
in his bound hands. He stared at me for a moment before he finally spoke. "I'm
pretty sure you haven't been entirely honest with me."

A
typical Kaufmann understatement. "I'll explain. Later. As much as I can."

To
his credit, he didn't say a word, just let me help him out of the car. I cut
the duct tape around his ankles with the utility knife I'd bought. I picked the
handcuffs binding his wrists and stashed the cuffs in the duffle. We ducked
into the elevator. He sagged against the wall as I hit the button to take us to
the lobby.

The
elevator car started down, moving much more smoothly than the high speed car I'd
taken to the 95th floor. The cramped quarters smelled strongly of sweat and
stress and even more strongly of blood.

I
eyed the rag wrapping Kaufmann's fingers. "Let me see your hand."

He
unpeeled what looked like a girl's t-shirt and held out three fingers. I
examined the bloody stump, and my stomach did a little flip. I'd seen many
injuries worse than this, but this was Kaufmann and he was hurt because of me.
I needed a second to regain my balance.

"You
killed the driver. You caused…" His lips thinned into a line.

I
pulled my gaze up to his eyes. "It's what I do. What I
really
do."

I
wasn't sure what I expected. Shock. Disbelief. Repulsion. Instead, Kaufmann
offered a simple nod. "Later?"

I
wanted to hug him. "Yes. Later."

As
much as I needed to explain things to Kaufmann, to take care of his hand, we
didn't have time. At worst, more of the people who were after me waited outside
the lobby door. At best, the police would be looking to arrest whoever took out
the SUV driver and caused it to hurtle six floors to the pavement below.
Dealing with the bad guys was uncomplicated. They were trying to kill me, I would
try to kill them. The cops presented a more complex problem, especially where Kaufmann
was concerned.

The
elevator's movement slowed and settled. "Kaufmann," I said. "We
can't go to the police."

Kaufmann
stared at me as if I was speaking gibberish. "People died. Maybe more than
we know."

"And
I can't explain that now."

"I'll
explain it, what I know, anyway."

"You
can't."

"I'm
an agent of the court. I have to."

I
shook my head. I wasn't worried about his ethics. "You won't be safe."

"The
police can protect me from Cory."

I
also wasn't worried about Cory. I looked Kaufmann square in the eye. I had to
convince him to follow my lead before the elevator doors opened. "Those
guys in the SUV, there are more of them, and I don't know who they are. But if
they can reach me, they can reach you."

Kaufmann
shook his head.

The
elevator's bell chimed. I could hear the shriek of sirens even before the door
opened. "Years ago I trusted you, Kaufmann, and you saved me. Now you have
to trust me. If you don't do what I say, we both will likely die. Now tuck your
hand in your pocket and follow me."

The
door slid open. I heard the clatter of running footsteps, the bark of voices.
Outside the lobby doors a circus of flashing lights exploded red and blue. Blue
uniformed police officers blocked the exit, trying to control the crowd. Two
officers pushed through the revolving door and into the lobby.

I
scanned the area, stopping on the yellow and black
Best Buy
sign just
off the lobby. I started in that direction, willing Kaufmann to come along.

For
a second, his body physically swayed toward the cops. Then he focused on me,
and we walked into the electronics shop. We blended with shoppers and  minutes
later, made it out the exit, swept by the crowd. A block away, we managed to
flag a cab, leaving Hancock Center behind.

"Debriefing is essential," The Instructor said. "It's
not called the Intelligence business because people are smart. Knowledge is
power. When debriefing, think like a reporter. Who, what, where, when, how, and
why. And learn to know when a subject is lying. Everybody lies."

Settling
into the cab, I got my first good look at Kaufmann. In the bright sunlight, he
looked even more pale than he had in the parking ramp. His gray hair stuck to
his forehead. He smelled of blood and the slightly metallic scent that
accompanied fear. I cupped my hands over his, cradled in his lap. His skin felt
cold and clammy, his pulse disturbingly fast.

For
a second, I thought about risking a hospital. I discarded the idea before we
had traveled a block. I had to go with my training, not my emotion. And my
training was telling me whoever had gotten to Jacob wouldn't let police or
hospital security get in his way. After my rescue of Kaufmann, they knew where
I was vulnerable, and they would use him to reach me, just as Cory had. My only
chance to keep him alive was protecting him myself.

I
gave the cabbie an address about a block from Victor's apartment. Normally I
would double back, change cabs, or do some other counter surveillance moves,
ending up several blocks from my destination and walking the remainder of the
distance. But Kaufmann had lost a lot of blood. I needed to get him to a safe
place where he could rest and I could get my hands on first aid supplies. My
friendly neighborhood EMT could provide both.

"How
are you feeling?" I asked, nodding to his hand.

"I've
had better days."

The
cab took a right turn and the shifting sunlight brought out the depth of
shadows under his eyes.

"It's
later," Kaufmann said, his kind eyes meeting mine.

I
nodded, knowing he was referencing the promise I'd made in the parking ramp to
explain what I could.

"Cory
escaped from Stateville two weeks ago. He must have noticed you at his trial,
figured out you were important to me."