The Speed of Sound (Speed of Sound Thrillers #1)(65)

Lutz was closing in. He was less than half a block away.

“What if I said please?” Skylar pleaded.

He shook his head. “The answer would still be no.”

She was on the verge of losing it. “Would you get in the cab if I asked you to do it for me anyway?”

Eddie stared at the sidewalk. “Yes, I would do it for you anyway, Skylar.”

Thank God. She quickly opened the door and helped Eddie get inside the cab. Skylar rushed in the other side and gave the driver a very simple command: “Drive!”

The Afghan driver may not have understood much English, but he did understand this particular instruction. His passengers’ heads were thrown back into the seat as he stepped on the gas.

Lutz came within eight feet of the rear bumper as he ran after the cab. He did not give up the chase for another two blocks. The man was incredibly fast. But man versus automobile was never much of a contest. Whoever had the better technology would always win this race, or any other.

Through the rear window, Eddie watched Lutz fade into the distance. Surprisingly, Eddie was not concerned. “This is kind of a game, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Like tag?”

“Like tag.”

“I don’t like tag, because people touch you when they tag you, and you’re it.”

“Then I’ll try to make sure no one tags you.”

Eddie stared out the windows, marveling at the many tall buildings all around them. “What if someone tags you, Skylar?”

“I won’t like it, either.”

“Then I will try to make sure no one tags you, either.”





CHAPTER 54

Varick Street, New York City, May 27, 4:47 p.m.

Lutz and Hirsch had split up when Homeland began their search inside the Sixth Precinct. Hirsch had remained by the precinct entrance while Lutz searched the perimeter, which was how he had come upon Skylar and Eddie. As the cab waded into a sea of others, Lutz focused his gaze on the vehicle’s license plate. It was a combination of four letters or numbers, as opposed to the usual seven required on passenger vehicles. These four letters or numbers also appeared on the vehicle’s top light, which was mounted on the roof beneath a Nautica advertisement featuring a nicely tanned man on a boat.

Unfortunately, Lutz could only make out two of the four identifiers on the license plate: 5E. He quickly punched the letter and number into his phone; he would later transmit them to Barnes, with the full knowledge that without at least one more digit, those two were practically useless, because they led to 1,296 license-plate possibilities. There was barely enough time to narrow it down from thirteen cabs, much less thirteen hundred.

Lutz quickly ducked into a Popeyes and waited in line as Homeland Security agents and NYPD officers rapidly expanded their perimeter around the station. The other customers all turned toward the street to see what the commotion was about. The agents and officers paid no attention to him or the other customers, or to the particular cab containing Skylar and Eddie, among the hundreds of others in view. It was just one of many other yellow metal fish swimming toward Midtown. Lutz may have only had half of the cab’s license plate, but it was still more than they had.





CHAPTER 55

Deputy Inspector Nataro’s Office, Sixth Precinct, May 27, 5:03 p.m.

Detective McHenry had just finished giving his fictionalized account of the suspects’ escape to his superiors and DHS Agent Raines inside the deputy inspector’s office. Butler knew the agent wasn’t buying a word of it, but he had no intention of offering any more than he was asked to.

Raines looked amused. “Is that it?”

“That’s all I can tell you.” Butler glanced calmly at Nataro and Daniels. Poker players at a table, except that they were all standing. Nobody was giving away anything.

“And this recording they played for you. You believe it’s legitimate?”

“I do.” Butler had to restrain himself from clarifying that what they had heard was not a recording.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because she risked a great deal to bring it to me.”

“Skylar Drummond isn’t the only one who risked a lot today.” Agent Raines paused, allowing the threat to sink in. “What I don’t understand is why you helped them flee.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Butler’s voice didn’t waver. He was a better liar than Victoria was.

“No?”

“What I did was hear evidence I thought my superior officers should also hear, but as I was bringing in my witnesses to this station, you idiots had to issue federal warrants and scare them off.” Butler eyed Victoria and Anthony, just to make sure they were all clear on the story. “Agent Raines, some asshole out there single-handedly paralyzed the city for the last three days, and killed an NYU professor who had a great future ahead of him. This investigation may not be your primary concern, but it is mine. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with it.”

The agent studied him for a moment, then spoke with clear disdain. “By all means, Detective, I wouldn’t want to interfere with your investigation.”

Raines watched McHenry through the window as he left the station. “Where do you think he’s going?”