Kurt turned back to Ion, actually surprised at how well it had gone.
Ion’s gaze went from Kurt to Joe to each of his beaten men. He looked horrified at first, and then disappointed, and then he locked his gaze on Kurt and shrugged his shoulders as if to say “Oops.”
And then, just when Kurt thought the man would give in and talk, he spun like a cat and raced out the door.
“Damn,” Kurt said.
Caught off guard by Ion’s flight, Kurt scrambled over the unconscious Samoan and rushed outside. Joe was right behind him.
“There,” Joe said, pointing
Ion was on their right, racing down the street on foot. They took off after him, running along the empty sidewalk.
Kurt might have expected Ion to go for a car, but most likely he didn’t drive himself here, the Samoans drove. And even if he had the keys, a man like Ion wouldn’t self-park, he’d use the valet. And not wanting to get caught and pummeled while the kid at the valet stand went looking for his Maserati or Mercedes, Ion had no choice but to hoof it to wherever he was going.
That suited Kurt just fine. Catching Ion in a footrace didn’t sound too hard. At least, that was, until it started to rain.
On the one hand, the rain cleared the sidewalks of the few remaining pedestrians; on the other hand, it reduced the visibility sharply. And when Ion cut to the right, dashing off the sidewalk and into an alley, Kurt almost missed him.
He whipped around the corner and saw Ion fifty yards ahead, passing under the veil of a streetlight. He and Joe raced on as the rain poured down harder.
“I can’t believe this little guy can run so fast,” Kurt shouted.
“He must know who’s chasing him,” Joe said.
Kurt guessed that adrenaline would play a part in it, but he doubted Ion could stay at full speed for as long as he and Joe. And all those laps, at home, in the gym, and on the Argo, were about to come in handy.
Ion glanced back at them and quickly turned in to another alley. Kurt and Joe chased. As Kurt made the turn, Joe slipped on the wet pavement and went down hard. He slid across the sidewalk and crashed into a large concrete planter. He bounced right back up, barely missing a step.
His shirt was torn and bloody at the elbow now, his slacks shredded at the knee, but he kept on running.
“Remember what I said about our next adventure being somewhere dry?” he shouted. “I mean it.”
Kurt tried not to laugh; he needed all his breath. At the end of the alley was a fence, which Ion scaled like an acrobat, dropping to the other side. Kurt went over first, and Joe landed on his feet a second or two later.
Now that they were in a park of some kind, the visibility was even lower. Hiding might have worked for their quarry, but the rabbit continued to run, and when Kurt spotted him he sensed Ion slowing.
After racing across the wet grass and past some manicured trees, Ion hopped another fence and went back out onto a narrow side street filled with shops.
Ion stumbled, and turned right on another street.
Kurt pressed harder, summoning every ounce of extra speed his body had in it. This was their chance. But when he reached the street, Ion was nowhere to be seen.
Kurt skidded to a stop, looking around. “Where’d he go?”
“He definitely came in here,” Joe said. “I saw him take the turn.”
Kurt blinked away the rain and looked around. There were crevices in this particular section of town. They came in the form of doorways and alcoves for the little row of shops. There were also a couple of parked cars, sitting stoically as the rain pelted them and made them shine. Despite a streetlight at each end of the row, the wet blacktop seemed to be absorbing all light.
“That little rat has to be hiding,” Kurt said. “You take that side of the street, and I’ll walk this side. Go slow. He’s here somewhere.”
Joe nodded and crossed the road. As he began moving down the right side of the street, Kurt began to recon the left side. He checked under cars and inside them, but he saw no one hiding in the backseats or beneath the frames.
The shops had doors recessed in alcoves. Kurt checked each niche, ready for a surprise attack, but found nothing.
From across the street Joe shook his head.
A car drove past in the wet. Its headlights brightened the street for a moment, throwing off a blinding glare. Kurt saw a woman in the driver’s seat but no one else. The car had come from so far off, Ion would have needed a Jetpack to have gotten to it and hidden inside.
The lightning flashed again, and this time a slight rumble of thunder was heard. The rain was falling harder, and Kurt stepped back into the alcove behind him. He was all but ready to admit Ion had escaped when the lightning flashed again.
Looking down, he noticed wet footprints on the mostly dry concrete of the alcove’s floor. His own prints were obvious, but the others swung wide and then back, in places Kurt had not stepped.
Remaining still, Kurt reached behind him. His fingers found the doorknob and closed around it, but he didn’t need to turn it.
Even from that slight touch, the door moved freely.
44
A CHILL RAN UP KURT’S SPINE that had nothing to do with the soaking wet conditions. He stood forward, careful not to react. With one hand, he waved Joe over.
“You find anything?” he asked a little louder than necessary.
“Nothing,” Joe said. “He’s gone.”
Kurt nodded his head toward the door behind him. Joe glanced at the door, which was slightly ajar. He nodded. He understood.
“All right,” Kurt said, “let’s get out of here.”
But instead of getting out, he put his hand back on the round knob. Taking a deep breath, he shoved it open with a snap of the wrist.
There was a sudden squawking and the sound of scampering and skittering feet, but no one was there. Kurt saw a cage filled with toucans and some other brightly colored birds he didn’t recognize. Behind them another cage held a huge iguana the size of a thirty-pound dog.
As the birds settled down, a few feathers floated through the air.
“So much for the element of surprise,” Joe mumbled.
Kurt had to agree, but seeing more wet tracks on the floor told him for certain they were onto Ion’s trail.
“Some kind of pet store,” he said, although he couldn’t imagine taking the giant iguana, which looked like a small dinosaur, for a walk.
He glanced back at the door. The wooden frame was broken and splintered where it had been kicked in. Ion must have pushed the door shut once he’d gone inside, but damaged the way it was, it couldn’t be latched again.
Kurt’s eyes moved upward. A sign read “Rare and Exotic”—apparently, it meant the animals.
There were two aisles in the long narrow store. In the center stood a row of stacked cages; on the sides were larger enclosures, some with bars, others with clear plastic walls and doors.
Kurt pointed to the right, and Joe moved toward that aisle. Kurt took the other one.
As he moved down his aisle, Kurt saw a Komodo dragon sleeping under a dim light. Lemurs and monkeys and a sloth slept in large cages in the center. A caracal, a wild cat with tawny fur and black ears, occupied a medium-sized cage beside them.
Treading softly, Kurt listened for movement. He heard noises, but they sounded like the snores and shuffles of the animals as far as he could tell. Then he heard a clink like metal on metal. Silence followed and then another metallic sound.
Footsteps came next, but not two at a time. There were four.
They stopped, and Kurt heard a low growl. Suddenly, there was a hiss and a roar and the crashing of cages.
The monkeys woke in a start and screeched and banged the bars of their enclosure, and another roar went out from some larger cat.
Kurt lunged around the corner to see Joe squashed into the thin space between the top of the monkey cage and the ceiling. A juvenile leopard swatted at him, with its teeth bared and its ears flat against its head.