“Hold on.” Noel pounded the gas pedal and shifted gears. Yasmine grew strangely quiet. Was she all right? She’d pistol-whipped Crais in the head without an ounce of hesitation. She’d certainly learned a thing or two in the military, and her compartmentalization—while helpful in the heat of the moment—had to overload eventually. She’d been keeping her emotions in check for almost the entire time since he’d reunited with her yesterday. Had it really been only twenty-four hours since this madness had begun? It felt as though they’d been dodging bullets for a week.
A crack split the air, and the back windshield crunched. Two more shots slammed into the vehicle, but the window held. Like his own car, the Suburban had bulletproof glass—one of the advantages of commandeering an FBI vehicle.
Noel shot through the next intersection, pulling onto a main road. Few other cars traveled the street, but it led to a major highway that would take them out of Buffalo’s suburbs and back toward Newherst.
“I’m going to try to lose them on back roads,” Noel said, gritting his teeth for the next turn. He waited until the last second to yank the wheel to the left, not bothering to signal or step on the brakes. He hoped the driver following them would overshoot the turn or at least be blocked for a few seconds while the oncoming wave of vehicles passed by.
Instead, their pursuers turned directly into oncoming traffic. The screech of brakes told Noel that he’d misjudged the recklessness of the pursuing driver. He mentally kicked himself. He’d thought it would be FBI potentially coming after them, but the driver wasn’t acting like FBI—Noel knew the typical maneuvers inside and out after twenty weeks at the Academy. Had someone co-opted Crais’s instructions or taken over the recovery operation? It made sense. The people after Yasmine always knew where she’d be, and the Department of Defense had the pull and resources to take over a recovery operation—even without giving Crais or his superiors all the information. Noel couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to consider all the angles. He needed to up his game, because if the driver behind them was cut from the same cloth as the sniper who’d committed suicide rather than allow himself to be caught, of course he’d put himself at risk to get the job done.
“The ride is going to get a little rough,” Noel said, pressing the gas pedal again as he turned onto a side street. “Hold on. If your ribs hurt, let me know, but I’m afraid it’s escape or risk one of those bullets in our backs.”
“It’s okay,” Yasmine said. “Do what you need to do.”
Her words were strangely reassuring. He snuck a glance at her. She stared forward at the road ahead, occasionally looking in the side mirror to check on their pursuers. How had she grown up to be even more beautiful than he remembered? And what on earth was a woman like her doing unattached and living with her brother in a tiny town like Newherst? When he looked at her, he saw a woman who could do anything she wanted, achieve whatever she set her mind to. She’d be a handful for any man trying to love her, but he had no doubt it would bring a lifetime of rewards. Of adventure.
Life never had a dull moment with Yasmine Browder, he’d told her when they were kids. He’d meant it in a teasing way back then, but now…
Another crack against the back windshield sent him spinning out of his thoughts. The last thing he needed was to get shot again—the last time it happened, his career on the police force had effectively been ended.
“Where are you, Black? Back to earth, please.” Yasmine pulled out her cell phone and ran her thumb across the back of its case. “Isn’t there anyone else we can call? Somebody who might be able to help us?”
Noel wished there was, but Crais’s words had thrown everything into doubt. “I don’t know. I’m still not sure we can trust the police, and we can’t go to the FBI, lest we risk compromising Crais. Who could possibly be trying to give orders to a top-ranking FBI agent?”
“Somebody who knows how to manipulate the system. Who knew that Crais would have his hands tied by needing to follow protocol. Someone who has both the money and leverage to make this work.”
Noel veered right at the next road, taking them onto the highway. The red glow of the setting sun reflected in his mirror. Could they lose their pursuers before dark? He had to start thinking of their solution for the night ahead. Yasmine needed to rest and recover tonight. Her injuries would never heal if her body kept taking on stress.
“I’m not sure how that helps us,” he said, distracted as the SUV behind them raced up the ramp, following them onto the highway. It was only a matter of time before city police or state troopers joined the chase, too—after all, their pursuers had fired shots from the vehicle in a populated area.
“Noel, I’m going to blame your denseness on the stress of the moment.”
“I’m grateful?”
“You should be.” The glow of her smile gifted him with a slight diffusion of anxiety in the heat of the moment. “We need to follow the money. That’s the only way we’re going to figure this out.”
Of course. “But how are we going to do that? I can’t ask for a subpoena of records, not now. And if Crais does it, he’ll be put in danger or end up under serious scrutiny, and then we’ll lose our inside man.”
Plus, they’d assaulted a federal agent—with permission, but the FBI didn’t know that. What the consequences were for the both of them until this situation got resolved, he wasn’t sure—but he didn’t want to worry Yasmine over it.
“Did you have anyone from the cyber division in your graduating class at the academy?”
“It’s illegal for the FBI to hack into someone’s financials without a warrant. We can’t do that. Private citizens can get more information with an online search and a credit card than the Bureau can these days. You just have to know where to look.”
“Do you know where to look?”
Noel shook his head. One name had popped into his head, and though it might be a long shot, the person definitely was not corrupt. “First we’re going to lose these goons behind us. Then we’re going to call my uncle in Pennsylvania.”
“Your uncle? What does he have to do with any of this?”
“Personally? Nothing.” His uncle, Chief Walter Black, had been on the police force for a very long time and had connections the likes of which it would take Noel an entire career to build. “But I’m hoping he knows someone who can help us.”
It was more than a long shot. More like a futile hope in the impossible.
Given the choice between running forever and the impossible, though? He glanced at the woman next to him, battered and bruised and exhausted thanks to the work of those who believed themselves above the law.
He’d gladly put his hope in the impossible if it meant any chance, no matter how small, at getting Yasmine out of this mess.
* * *
Yasmine held her breath as Noel maneuvered their Suburban like a professional. He dodged and weaved to keep them out of harm’s way, but with every crack and bang against the vehicle, she grew more and more fearful that they wouldn’t be able to lose their tail before their pursuers managed a few decent shots at their tires. Who were these people? Even Noel looked nervous every time he glanced in the rearview mirror.
At the next straightaway, Noel pressed the pedal to the floor, and the Suburban jumped forward. There were no other vehicles nearby on this stretch, and there was a hill up ahead. Yasmine wondered if Noel had a plan or if he intended only to put distance between them and the armed assailants.
“You know what you’re doing? Or what’s over that hill?” She looked out her window as they passed a sign for Mill River.
His jaw tightened. “If I remember correctly, there’s a bridge over Mill River on the other side of the hill. The road curves after the river, so they won’t have a long-distance view down the road if we can get far enough ahead.”
“Ahead to what?” Yasmine realized that she hadn’t heard the crack of a bullet against the vehicle for almost two minutes. When she looked in the side mirror, she saw that the car in pursuit had fallen behind. “Are you going to lose them on the hills and turns?”
“No. We’re going to stop running. Brace yourself.”
“Wait, what?” Yasmine pressed her hands against the sides of her seat as Noel shot over the crest of the hill. The vehicle came down hard with a thump that rattled her already aching bones. She really needed another painkiller, but she’d forgotten them inside Noel’s mom’s car back at the FBI safe house. Not good. Neither was the speed at which they descended the hill toward the bridge. “Noel, I don’t think—”
Her words were cut short as, just before they reached the bridge railing, Noel yanked on the steering wheel and pulled the Suburban off-road and into the brush. The vehicle bounced and jostled, but he kept their course steady. She had no idea what was going through his head as he plunged their SUV into the shallow river and veered underneath the bridge before cutting the engine.
Yasmine hardly dared to breathe. “What did you just do?”
Noel glanced in the mirrors and drew his gun. “I used our momentum to ensure that we wouldn’t stop moving once we hit the water. Listen.”
Over the soft swishing of the shallow river, she heard the hum of tires coming closer. “Are we going to be able to move again if it turns out they saw us?”
“The river will come up only to your knees. It’s not deep and doesn’t reach the engine. But if they saw us drop in here or notice the tire tracks right before the bridge, moving will be the least of our worries. I think I waited long enough to get us off the road, so they’ll be moving too quickly at the bottom of the hill to notice any scuffing.”
She listened again, praying that their pursuers would keep moving. Please, Lord. Shelter us. The vehicle zoomed past overhead and kept going. Thank You, God. “Now we move?”
Noel reholstered his gun. “We’ll get out of here and go back the way we came. I want to take the first road off this straightaway. Ideally by the time they realize we’ve given them the slip, we’ll be long gone.”
He started up the vehicle and rolled out from under the bridge, getting them back on the road and over the hill in a matter of seconds. The adrenaline of running for their lives had kept the ache of her injuries at bay for the past few hours, but as minutes ticked past without a sign of their pursuers, the pain returned in a steady rush as the rest of her body began to relax.
“I forgot my medication in your mom’s car,” she said softly as Noel took another turn. He appeared to be heading toward a main highway. “I’m not sure what to do.”
Noel grimaced and pounded the steering wheel with the heel of his palm. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Are you going to be all right?” When she didn’t respond—she didn’t want to lie to him—he grunted in frustration. “We already need to find a gas station before the tank runs out and forces us into a bad situation. One of us can run inside and grab off-the-shelf painkillers while the other fills the tank. Should take three minutes, tops. I know that’s not the same as your prescription, but it’ll have to do. I don’t want you passing out from pain during an already tense situation.”
“I know.” Yasmine took shallow breaths as the pain intensified. “Sooner is better, please.”
Yasmine’s next breath caught as Noel glanced at her. The anguish in his eyes rivaled her own. Did he really care so much, or was he worried only about his future with the FBI? He reached across the center console and took her hand, squeezing it twice before letting go as though he’d thought better of it, like he feared he’d crossed an invisible boundary.
And he had. They were old friends, caught in the crossfire of a bizarre and mysterious operation, pushed into this position together by circumstance alone. That was the truth. That’s what she believed.
So why did a part of her yearn for him to take her hand once more?