Jack grunted.
“Your best bet . . .” I began.
I wriggled a little closer. Quinn sighed, then obliged by lifting the screen.
“Get ahead of them,” I said. “Two blocks up, then make a left and another left. You’d cut them off while they’re on a long stretch of narrow road. No easy way to get past or turn around.” I glanced at Quinn. “Right?”
“Looks good to me. Now sit down and let me—”
A crash sounded in the distance, loud enough to reverberate through the closed windows. I jumped. Quinn fumbled the GPS, nearly dropping it. Jack made a left, so sharp I was grabbing the seat backs for support.
“Right here?” he asked.
When no one answered, he glanced at Quinn. “Turn right here?”
“Uh, yes. Sorry. Turn—”
Jack was already careening around the corner. Ahead we saw a dark, midsize car plowed into a parked truck. Billowing white airbags filled the car’s interior. I could make out two heads in the front seat. One of the rear doors was open.
“That’s theirs,” Quinn said.
Jack grunted as he steered to the curb and braked hard enough for me to wish I’d tightened my seat belt. I’d have a bruise for sure.
Quinn was out of the car, gun pulled, as soon as it stopped. I followed, exiting on his side. He started for the crash. I grabbed the back of his jacket.
“Wait.”
He stopped. Jack had, too, over on the sidewalk. When they did, the scuffle of their footsteps stopped, and I could hear another set of running feet, growing more distant by the second.
Quinn’s chin jerked up, catching the same sound. He cursed. Koss was on the move, having presumably caused the crash.
Quinn’s gaze went to the crash. I raced past him.
I turned, hands out. “GPS?”
He hesitated. Jack was loping over, waving for me to go on, that he’d get the GPS and follow. I ran while they figured it out. Quinn would be torn between wanting to check the men in the car and not wanting to lose his prey. I knew which he’d choose, but I wasn’t waiting around until he figured it out.
I could still hear Koss ahead, loafers slapping the pavement, too intent on escape to hear us. When his footfalls did stop, I ducked into an entryway and got my first good look at the playing field. Offices mostly, dark windows shooting into the sky, the occasional light left on, the workers gone. There were shops down here, too, but all closed. I couldn’t rule out the possibility that people lived over some of those shops. No one had come out to see the crash, though. The street was still and silent.
Jack caught up. He pressed the GPS into my hand. The screen showed a blip for Koss, who seemed to be moving around an intersection, likely catching his breath and figuring out his next move. I told Jack.
“Quinn coming?” I whispered.
“Yeah. Checking them out. Calling it in. Joining up.”
I caught the faint pounding of footfalls. A moment later, Quinn rounded the corner. I waved him over as I checked the GPS.
“Koss is taking a breather,” I said. “The Contrapasso guys?”
“One dead. One wounded. I’m guessing Koss got free and caused the crash, but the wounded guy is in no shape to talk. I called my contact. He’ll deal with it. Nothing I can do.”
I nodded, and we came up with a plan, quickly, before Koss got his second wind.
Koss had stopped prowling the intersection and set out again. He wasn’t running now, presumably having decided no one was coming after him. We kept as quiet as possible, speeding up only when the roar of a distant car would mask our footfalls. We had split up, too, with Quinn across the road and Jack fifty feet behind me.
We’d reached a slightly busier area. As the occasional car passed, we’d all hear it and take cover momentarily. Each time, I’d tense, fearing I’d see a taxi. If Koss spotted one, he’d grab it. But they were just cars and he continued on, heading east toward a four-lane road that would promise public transit. We needed to get to him before he reached it.
I glanced back at Jack. That’s all it took for him to break into a lope and catch up as I continued walking. Across the road, Quinn glanced over. I motioned for him to keep an eye out. Jack checked the GPS and quickly calculated how long we had. Not long enough. Not at this speed. Any faster, though, and our footsteps would echo through the silent streets.
He handed me back the GPS, then I took off my shoes and broke into a run. That fixed the problem, even if I couldn’t go quite as fast as I would otherwise. The sidewalk was old, crumbling in spots, gravel-covered in others, and it was like running on marbles. Across the road, Quinn had taken off his sneakers and he soon caught up. Jack was hanging back to cover us.
I kept checking the GPS as I ran. We were closing the gap fast. Then Koss halted. I thought he’d just paused and I went another half block before realizing he’d stopped altogether. I put on the brakes and waved Quinn over.
“He’s stopped,” I whispered, pointing at the GPS. “Right around the next corner.”
“You think he heard us?”
I shook my head. Jack was less than a block back, but I couldn’t hear his footsteps.
“He see us?”
We were all dressed for a night mission—head to foot dark colors. It took a moment, but I could make out Jack’s figure, even as he stuck close to the buildings. The streetlights were too bright to hide him.
“Maybe,” I whispered. I checked the GPS. Still no movement.
“Got some alleys and service lanes here,” Quinn said. “I’ll take— No, whoever’s got the GPS should take the back way. I’ll stick to the sidewalk.”
I backtracked to the nearest alley. By then, Jack was close enough to jog over. I put my shoes on as I explained the plan.
As we walked, I kept checking the GPS. Koss was still just around the corner.
“In the building,” Jack murmured.
I glanced over at him.
He pointed to the screen. “Not on the sidewalk. He’s inside.”
Jack was right. We were within a hundred feet of the transmitter now, and Koss was too far from the street to be on the sidewalk.
I looked up. From the back, it was near impossible to tell what the building housed. I just saw brick and windows. Barred windows, all too high to peek through.
“Seems empty,” Jack said.
I looked at him.
“Saw a real estate sign,” he said. “Construction, too.”
He’d taken a closer look at the building, which is what I should have done before ducking behind it.
“Can’t be certain,” Jack said.
But it made sense. We’d just left a building under renovations. If Koss wanted a place to hole up, and he saw lease and construction signs, he’d slip in there.
“Do you think he made us?” I whispered.
“Presume he did. Safer.”
I nodded and texted Quinn. A moment later he replied confirming the building was indeed empty and in the early stages of reconstruction.
We crept down a service lane beside the building, picking our way past bins filled with ripped-out material.
We reached the road. I checked the GPS. Koss seemed to be still in the building, but it was a little less clear now, his “dot” closer to the road. Which could mean he was hiding in an alcove or doorway.
I peered out. It was a straight, flat wall with no alcove or doorway at this end. I could see Quinn waiting by the door. I waved him in, and he disappeared.
Jack took my wrist, tilting the GPS screen so he could see it.
“Hug the wall,” he said. “Go slow if you have to. Just stick right to it.”
“Because he could be watching through a window.”