“Two blocks up, turn right. Then three blocks down turn left. If you go fast we can catch up.”
Jack’s lips pressed together and he pushed on the accelerator so hard it was like being in a rocket. The car looked like it had been rescued from the junk heap but man it was eating up the miles. They were breaking every speed law on the books, but Joe leaned forward, willing it to go faster. To catch up with Isabel, in the hands of a murderer.
“How come this car works when ours don’t?” Metal asked.
“I bought it for cash and had it tuned,” Jack said. “It’s all mechanical. I have been pretending to be homeless and at times I slept in it, but it’s a real lucky break because Blake’s EMP killed everything that has electronics within a hundred, hundred fifty yards. He’s driving a van that doesn’t have electronic components either. I parked a block down, anyway. So my car and my gear work.”
And his foresight might save Isabel’s life.
“So,” Joe said, glancing over. Beneath the filthy dreadlocks, stubble and grime, he could see the resemblance. “Isabel’s brother.”
“Yep.”
“Thought you were dead.”
“So did Blake. That was the point. And I had to stay dead. If Isabel knew I was alive, she wouldn’t be able to hide it. I’ve been investigating, but I don’t have proof yet. But I will. There are other people involved in this and they are not done yet.”
“How’d you hide for six months?”
Jack flashed a grim smile and pointed to himself. “You’d be surprised how invisible the homeless are. That’s how I slapped that tracker onto Blake. Pretended to be a homeless vet at a rally, he had to shake my hand. Looked right into my eyes and he didn’t recognize me. Didn’t even really see me. Where are they?”
“Turn this corner and—” Joe looked up and saw the outline of an ancient van. “There it is!”
Impossibly, Jack stepped on the accelerator harder and they shot forward. “We need to be careful, I don’t want Isabel hurt.”
Joe lifted the IR binocs to his eyes. “I see them,” he reported. “Three outlines. Isabel is sitting on a bench.” Shoulders slumped. In the hands of the enemy. She had no idea they were coming after her. She thought she was alone, abandoned. On her way to her death.
Hang on, honey. Just hang on a little while longer, we’re coming for you.
“Where’s Blake?” Jack asked.
“Sitting next to her,” he answered. “And Isabel is—” He stopped. What was he seeing? The red outlines that were heat images were churning.
“Isabel is what?” Jack shouted.
“Fighting,” Joe replied, surprised the word came out. It felt like there were rocks in his throat. “She’s fighting Blake and—oh God.” He watched as she beat at Blake with handcuffs or restraints on her wrists, then started whaling on the driver. He was torn between cheering her on and screaming at her to stop it. They were undoubtedly armed. What the fuck was she thinking?
Though she was magnificent.
The van ahead fishtailed.
“She’s fighting the driver.” Joe couldn’t take his eyes from the binocs. It was like watching a train wreck.
The van swerved onto the other lane, then veered back into the right-hand lane. Isabel was a red-gold ninja, limbs moving almost too quickly to follow in the IR lenses, so quickly her movements left a red-gold trail, like manifestations of ghosts.
The van turned into the Morrison Bridge, wobbling. Thank God there was very little traffic on the roads.
“What?” Jack asked urgently. “What’s happening?”
“She’s putting up a real fight,” Joe said, terrified, trying to keep the pride out of his voice. “She’s got her head real close to the driver’s face. I think, um...” He held the monitor up to try to decipher what was going on. Isabel’s and the driver’s heads together formed one big red-yellow blob. Isabel pulled away and the driver took a hand off the wheel to place it against his head. “I think she bit him. Or kissed him.”
One or the other.
The van swerved again only instead of righting itself, it curved even farther to the right.
“Hey!” Joe shouted at the driver of the van. “You crazy fuck! You’re going to go off the bridge!”
The van speeded up as it rammed the bridge spars, broke through them and plunged straight down into the cold water of the river.
“Stop the car!” Joe screamed.
Jack stood on the brakes and Joe opened the door before it came to a complete halt. He studied the black water as he tore his boots and jacket off, figuring out his moves, figuring out how to get to Isabel because not saving her was not an option. He was either going to come up with Isabel or he wasn’t coming up at all.
He’d clocked in four and a half minutes underwater during training but only after super oxygenating and not moving in the water. On a rescue mission he could last two minutes, tops. That wasn’t important, though. The only important thing was how long Isabel could last.
He only had time to pull in two deep breaths, filling his lungs up completely with air then exhaling deeply by the time he stood on the edge of the bridge where the van had crashed through the barrier.
Isabel was a civilian and civilians didn’t last long underwater. She’d be terrified and panicky and flailing. She’d last thirty-forty seconds before she tried to pull in a terrified breath and breathed water. At least the water was freezing cold which slowed things down a little. Make that fifty seconds, tops.
Joe started the clock in his head as he stood barefoot on the edge of the bridge just long enough to calculate the entry point of the dive.
The van’s roof was disappearing underwater. There would be some air trapped inside the cabin and Isabel was smart enough to take advantage of that. He had to dive as close to the vehicle as possible. One second to calibrate and he dove.
The water was freezing cold and black. The van’s headlights were on and he used that as guidance as he fought the swirls of water displaced by the sinking van. In a few hard strokes he was there at the front passenger door, barely able to see inside by the glow of the headlights. Isabel was still flailing and for a second he couldn’t understand why as he floated just outside the window.
Ten seconds.
Then he saw that the driver was still attacking her.
Goddammit. He had his Glock in its shoulder holster but he couldn’t use it underwater, much as he’d like to just shoot the murderous fuck in the head. On some missions his Glock had been equipped with maritime spring cups that protected the firing pin but this one didn’t have it. Beyond that, the shock wave could damage Isabel’s internal organs, could even kill her.
He pounded on the window to get her attention and she turned, face lighting up when she saw him.
Goddamn. His heart simply turned over in his chest. She’d just fought off two murderous men, she was in a vehicle that was submerged in water, he had no idea if she could even swim, she was surely terrified and the love in her face when she saw him nearly blew him apart.
No one had ever looked at him like that before. He was not going to lose this woman. He was going to save her and if she’d have him, he was going to marry her. And if she wouldn’t have him, he’d just keep asking.
Twenty seconds.
The driver was reaching for her again, movements impeded by the water rushing in.
Joe motioned Isabel away. By some miracle she understood and moved slightly to one side and Joe drove the butt of his Glock with all his strength against the glass pane. It broke, shards of glass floating in the water. Too bad. If they got cut, they’d get stitched up. The important thing was to get to the surface.
He quickly broke away all the pieces of glass clinging to the window frame, reached in past Isabel and with a quick movement of his hands broke the driver’s neck, then put his hands under Isabel’s arms and pulled her out.