Lock pulled out of the exit from Van Nuys airport in his Audi, Ty next to him in the passenger seat.
“You know you don’t have to come to this thing, right?” said Lock, as Li Yeng overtook them in his blue Lexus, both cars headed for the 405 freeway.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Ty.
“You bummed about me shooting down that last proposal?”
“Nah,” said Ty. “You’re right. Better to let sleeping Salvadorian street gangs lie.”
“Listen, we’re going to have enough work to keep us going for the next year. Easy work too. Domestic-security reviews. We can charge top dollar too.”
“I know, but it wasn’t just the money. Know what I’m saying?”
Lock did. Revenge was always tempting. The problem was, it rarely ended where or when you wanted it to. It had a habit of turning into a feud, and Lock had settled one not too long ago. He didn’t want to get sucked into another.
“It’s done. Best that we leave it like that.”
Ty was staring at the mirror on his side of the car. “Maybe somebody should explain that to these guys.”
Lock’s eyes flicked to the rearview where a beaten-up silver Ford Mustang with two young Hispanic males inside was closing in on them. Everything about their appearance and demeanor screamed “gang member.”
The driver of the Mustang sped up, and whipped suddenly around Lock’s Audi, almost colliding with a pickup truck headed down Haskell Avenue in the other direction. Lock slowed so they could pass. He was happier to have the Mustang in front of him where he could see it.
Ty had already drawn his weapon and was wearing his game face.
The Mustang was moving away from them. For a second Lock thought it might just be a coincidence. It wasn’t as if gang members were a rare sight when you drove around the Valley. If you were on the lookout, you’d see them.
The Mustang drew out again, pulling around another car. It was then Lock spotted their actual target, Li Yeng’s dark blue Lexus, about a hundred yards ahead. The Mustang slowed now, tucking in behind it.
“You see what I see?” he said to Ty.
“Uh-huh.”
“Think we should call him, give him a heads-up that he has company?”
“No, he’ll freak out. It’ll only make things worse,” said Lock, waiting for a gap in oncoming traffic before touching the gas pedal, and pulling out wide, overtaking the three vehicles between him and the Mustang in one sudden burst of speed.
“What about the cops?” said Ty.
Lock thought about it for a second. He was studying the road. More importantly, he was studying what was on the other side of it. The lack of pedestrians. The absence of a high curb. And the way it opened up near the interchange with the 405 freeway.
He had something in mind, and he wasn’t sure that adding a third party with guns would make it easier. Giving it a second’s thought, he knew it wouldn’t. It would only complicate matters.
“If we see one, I’m sure we can flag them down.”
“You got it,” said Ty.
“Oh, and holster that,” said Lock.
Ty looked puzzled.
“What we gonna do?” he asked. “Give them a stern talking-to?”
“Something like that,” said Lock, his hands moving into position on the wheel. “Call Li and put him on speaker for me.”
Ty holstered his gun and made the call to Li Yeng. They could see his blue Lexus up ahead, the Mustang closing in on it. As the phone rang, Ty tapped the speaker icon, and put the phone into a holder on the dash.
“Li,” said Lock, when he picked up.
“Mr. Lock, good to hear from you. Have you reconsidered what we discussed?”
“In a way, yes. There’s no reason for alarm, but you have some unwanted company so I need you to do exactly what I tell you when I tell you to do it. And that starts with keeping your current speed and direction exactly the same.”
“Okay,” said Li, a nervous hitch in his voice. Lock could imagine him checking his rearview right about now.
“Keep your eyes on the road ahead, unless I tell you otherwise,” Lock added.
“Understood,” said Li.
“Okay, I’m going to stay on the line here. Disregard anything you hear in the next minute, apart from my instructions. Things might get a little loud, but just stay focused on getting to the freeway on the ramp. You know where it is, right?”
“The 405, yes—it’s just up here.”
Lock looked ahead. Traffic was light. That was good. He didn’t want to involve anyone else in this. On the next block there was a turn lane that led into a long-term parking lot for the nearby airport. It was shorter than he would have liked, but it would have to do. If he was going to pull this off, it was way safer on a surface street. Do it on the freeway and it would be mayhem.
The Mustang was still tucked in behind Li’s Lexus. Lock moved up on it, closing the gap between his Audi and the Mustang, but not so much that the teen gang members would get spooked.
“Okay, Li, you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Good, okay. You see that turn lane up ahead?”
There was the slightest pause.
“Uh, yeah, I see it.”
“Okay, I want you to put on your blinker, and move into it when you get up there. I also want you to hit the gas just before you move into it.”
“Thought I was heading for the freeway.”
“You are,” said Lock. “Soon as you hear a collision behind you, you move back out of the lane, and head to the freeway.”
“Okay, I don’t get this.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to,” Lock reassured him. “You understand all that?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Then repeat it back to me.”
“Signal. Speed up as I move into the turn lane. Wait for a crash behind me then get back out.”
“Perfect,” said Lock.
He watched as the Lexus’s turn signal began to blink.
He assumed that inside the Mustang the two gang members must be thinking that all their Christmases had arrived at once. Way easier to kill someone in a parking lot than shoot at them from the freeway.
The Mustang’s blinker didn’t light up, but it did inch across the road and slow a little, anticipating Li’s next move.
Lock studied the road ahead. There was no traffic coming in the opposite direction.
“Okay, Li, hit the gas—now!”
Lock already had his foot poised over the Audi’s gas pedal.
The Lexus shot forward. A fraction of a second later so did the Mustang.
After that, everything happened at lightning speed as, first, the Lexus, then the Mustang made their move, one matching the other.
As they began to move into the turn lane, Lock kept the Audi on a straight line. He moved up on the inside of the Mustang at speed, his hands set on the wheel, his focus intense. Next to him, Ty braced for the impact.
When the front wheel of his Audi was exactly level with the rear wheel arch of the Mustang, Lock pulled down hard on the wheel.
Both cars travelling at speed, the Mustang spun out as the front of the Audi made contact with its rear.
“Keep going, Li,” shouted Lock, as metal grated against metal.
Lock watched as, with the cars behind him braking to avoid the accident, the Lexus darted back out, heading for the freeway on-ramp.
The Mustang was now pointed in the opposite direction. The driver started to turn but a truck had moved up behind him. Vehicles on both sides had him hemmed in.
Lock rolled to a stop. Ty was already out of the vehicle, headed for the Mustang, as the gang members bailed, their mission aborted.
From experience, Lock knew they would have stolen the vehicle. Even they weren’t dumb enough to use their own car to hunt down and kill someone.
Lock watched as Ty picked the slowest of the two, and chased him down. His opponent had youth on his side, but Ty had long legs and natural athleticism. As the gang member turned to face his pursuer, Ty tackled him to the ground.
The kid was reaching for something tucked into the back of his waistband, but Ty cinched his wrist with a massive hand, peeling back his fingers past breaking point. Even with the honk of horns as traffic built up, Lock could make out the screams of pain.
Ty hauled the kid to his feet and marched him back toward the Audi. Lock turned the Audi around, and met Ty halfway. Ty opened the rear passenger door, threw the kid inside and climbed in after him. Lock hit the central locking button. The doors clunked shut.
“You can’t do this, you assholes,” the gang member protested.
“I think you’ll find we just did,” Ty told him, his game-face expression quieting the kid somewhat.
“Hey, you ain’t cops,” said the kid.
Lock pulled out, and hit the gas, heading away from the now abandoned Mustang, and setting the navigation for Orzana’s auto shop in East Los Angeles. Not that the kid was to know that was where they were headed.
Lock studied him coolly in his mirror. “That’s right,” he told him. “We’re not cops. We’re way worse.”