Concrete Chaos
Page 21
"Shit, Pavel, the two highway patrol motorcycles are riding through the parking lot," I said. The pair of Chippers had exhibited odd behavior. They shouldn't have come after me in the parking lot, and it seemed like they were ignoring the crowd of panicked citizens. Instead, they were scanning the parking area as if looking for someone. Were they looking for me?
"Grebanyye politsii," Pavel spat under his breath. I heard a sudden wet impact. The big man stepped out of his car, slid the yellow folder into his inside jacket pocket, and then strolled away from the pod. It actually looked like he was whistling.
The Chippers were a few hundred yards away, but I saw one of them point at Pavel, and they angled their bikes toward him.
"Fuck, they see you," Emma and I both said at once.
"This is weird. How did they know about you? They came after me before you even took the data stick from the woman."
"I will run from them."
"They will catch you, it is like a thousand yards between..." my lungs lost their air when I saw the Russian start to run. The big man was fast, crazy fucking fast, and his long strides almost look like one of those videos where they speed up the replay.
But the Chippers saw him, and the Russian wasn't as fast as a motorcycle.
"Go, go, go, go!" I chanted into the phone line. There was a steep grassy slope dotted with trees that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk. For a few seconds, it looked like Pavel might actually make it to me in time, and I doubted that the two turds-on-wheels would be able to ride up the slope, but it became apparent that my big friend wasn't going to evade them.
"Emma, can you back him up with a drone?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"I can't shoot cops, Sue Zay," Emma explained.
"Maybe shoot their tires out? Fuck, they are going to get him." He was still three hundred yards from me, at least, and the motorcycles were only fifty yards behind him.
Pavel leaned forward more and somehow managed to increase his already insane running speed. His big black boots were a blur of motion, and his long gray jacked billowed out behind him like a superhero's cape. The Chippers lost ground for a split second, but all they had do to was twist the throttle more and they closed the small gap.
The big Russian ignored them and kept running. One of the cops pulled in front and then gestured for Pavel to stop, but the running man just ignored them again and seemed to lean over more to increase his speed. The Chipper then tried to pull in front of Pavel, but the giant leapt over the motorcycle as if he was doing a fucking track hurdle. He didn't even break his sprinting stride.
"They can't get him!" I almost laughed. The other cop came up alongside Pavel and made a grab, but my friend seemed to sense the movement, and he twisted his shoulder to escape the hand. Now there was only a few hundred yards between us, and about seventy of those were the steep hill leading up to the sidewalk.
Then one of the fucking cops reached for his gun...
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