by Nicole Helm
Arash released the page from the clipboard and folded it into his jacket. He replaced the clipboard on the desk, then returned to the front door of the offices. The clock on the wall told him he had two minutes to meet his ride out of there. Not enough time to sneak his way back up to the roof. Hell, there wasn’t enough time to walk out the front door.
He stood up and opened the door to the office. He had to run, right past the guards.
* * *
STEPHANIE HADN’T WORN any rings, in case they’d caught the light and given her away while stealing her car, but now she wished she’d brought at least one so she could release a fraction of the tension by twisting it around her finger.
Her mother had always hated the habit. She’d wanted Stephanie to pick one set of jewelry and wear only that to demark her presence in the world. Changing it out every week had kept her grounded, though. A variety of rings felt differently on her fingers, making her focus on her hands. She hadn’t been ready to define herself as a teenager straining against a family and lifestyle she hadn’t chosen, and still wasn’t.
3:40 a.m. If her pickup wasn’t here in the next minute, she had to leave. Whoever they were, why the hell hadn’t they been early? Every second that ticked by with her parked in the shadows near her father’s warehouse was another opportunity for doom. If he found her there, her cover would be blown. And she had to operate with the confidence that Olesk and his crew had no idea who she was.
A side door on the warehouse slammed open. She jumped, startled, then quickly gathered her composure and put the car in gear. She’d stolen the ride, and now her job was getaway driver. A single figure sprinted onto the sidewalk, then toward her as she approached. Shadows enveloped him; she couldn’t pick out any of his features. He reached the car and threw open the passenger door.
Just then, two more men emerged from the warehouse door. One of them limped. Both held pistols. Her pickup leaped into the car and slammed the door closed. “Get us out of here.” He didn’t yell, but his urgency was unmistakable.
Not that she needed encouragement. The two armed guards were enough. She hit the gas and zipped past them before they could bring their guns up. The car handled the next corner perfectly and they were quickly away from the warehouse.
Her passenger was twisted around in his seat to watch the rear. When he turned to the front, she could finally steal a look at his face. Intense dark eyes peered forward. Black hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, accentuating his chiseled cheekbones and pronounced nose. He had a trim goatee. His mouth was set in a grim line. She guessed he was Middle Eastern, and honestly would’ve been happy to spend more time examining this handsome thirtysomething-year-old man’s distinctive features, but the street curved ahead again. And he was a member of a criminal driving crew she was intent on taking down.
He turned again to scan beside and behind them, bringing his shoulder and broad chest close to her in the small coupe. His body was covered in black clothes, but the cords of his neck and the energy that radiated from him showed how strong he was.
“Damn it...” he growled.
“Did you get what you went there for?” She couldn’t allow this job to go sideways and ruin her chance with Olesk.
“Of course I did,” he shot back. “Why do you think I was running away?”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Three cars with their headlights off following us are the problem.” He pointed to a street parallel to theirs. Two sport-tuned compact cars and a high-end sedan prowled into an intersection, then veered directly toward Stephanie and her passenger.
She sneered, “Awesome,” and stood on the accelerator. Her passenger tugged his seat belt on and braced himself against the door frame. They zipped through the flat streets of the Dogpatch neighborhood, but she couldn’t shake the pursuers. “What’s your name?” she asked through a clenched jaw.
“Arash.” He continued to turn, tracking the other cars.
“Okay, Arash, in the side pocket of my bag at your feet is a transponder.” If this man was skilled enough to steal something from Eddie Shun, then he should be able to figure it out. Though he wasn’t so masterful that he got out of the warehouse undetected.
He pulled the bag into his lap and dived into the side. “Got it.” Holding the device up, he said, impressed, “These things are expensive.”
“Who says I bought it?” In fact, she had, from a third-party contact she had in the black market.
“Slick.” His gaze scanned her for a moment and she thought she detected a quick heat of attraction. It inspired an unexpected bloom of warmth across her chest. The two of them raced over the San Francisco streets and for the first time in a long time, she felt a little reckless. She shut it down immediately and focused on the road. Arash cooled, as well. He turned to the device in his hands. “You used this to get the Mercedes?” His thick fingers traced up the lead wire with the metal clip. “Picked up the key code from the CAN bus in the main computer.”
“Can you operate it?” There was no time to walk him through. The other cars were gaining, and she was going to run out of streets and wind up in the bay within a few blocks.
“Get me close.” He clicked over the device, and her quick glance told her he was setting it up to give the oncoming sedan a false key code. Like he’d read her mind.
“Ready?” She eased off the gas enough to allow the oncoming cars to close the gap.
“One second.” He continued to adjust the transponder.
Her composure threatened to crack. The cars were too close. Sweat chilled her arms. If any of those guards saw her, they’d know who she was. And if she screwed up this job, her chance to infiltrate Olesk’s crew would be ruined. “Time’s up.”
“I’m good.” Arash held up the device and looked out the back window. “Closer. We have to be within—”
“Three feet,” she finished for him. “I know.”
“Then put us in the sweet spot,” he clipped. One of the sports cars broke off from the formation to flank her. The other held tight to the closing sedan. She slowed, her heart racing, until the sedan nearly brushed her back bumper.
“Not yet!” she called out. Before Arash could question her, she yanked the steering wheel to the right and commanded, “Now!”
Arash hit the button as the sedan was swerving to adjust to her sudden move. The riding lights flashed on the sedan, then the car went dead. The sports car that had been next to it couldn’t get out of the way in time and jammed into the side of the sedan. Both the cars ground to a stop. Arash barked a harsh laugh of victory. “I have to get one of these.”
“Don’t steal mine.” She shared a glance with him, again shocked by the heat in the brief look. Was she turned on? No. Not by a criminal.
“Broadcasted key codes won’t work on the tuner.” He jammed the transceiver back into her bag. “Totally different security system.” One car remained on their trail. Her action with the sedan had slowed her down enough for it to keep a steady pace now. And it was gaining.
She sped through the streets, hugging corners and scanning ahead for anything she could use to stop the other car. Arash reached into his jacket and pulled out a dark metal object. Ice spiked through her nerves. “We don’t need a gun,” she growled. Whoever was chasing them was an employee of her father. While his businesses weren’t 100 percent legal, they also didn’t involve the kinds of crimes that hurt people. Like human trafficking.
To prove what she said, she navigated quickly into an alley and gained ground on the last car. Arash answered, “I’m not packing on this run.” He displayed the object in his hand, a heavy-duty flashlight. “But I can still punch back.” The passenger window glided down, blasting cold, briny air into the car. He leaned out the window and extended the flashlight back. Suddenly the alley behind her was filled with bright white strobing light.
The next street arrived
and she steered hard to the left. The driver behind must’ve been dazzled by the strobe, because the sports car turned early and jammed its nose into the side of a building. Metal and plastic crunched. The last car was out of the race.
But she didn’t let off the speed until they’d slipped completely out of the neighborhood. Easing into the flow of the few cars on the road, she started to drive like a civilian. Arash rolled up the window and gave her an approving nod. “Nice wheel work.”
“Nice work riding shotgun.” It was way too easy to flirt with this man. This criminal.
Arash’s crooked smile disappeared into a thin line when he pulled out his buzzing phone. “Text from Olesk.” Her awareness sharpened. Nerves prickled. The first test was a success. What was next? Arash continued, “It’s the address where we’re to meet him.” His dark gaze stared ahead. His voice was low and serious. “We have two hours to get to Sacramento.”
The gravity of the message shook deep into her bones. The mission for Frontier Justice had started, and the only way to go was forward. Olesk and his crew were out there waiting, and she was headed right toward them with one of their own riding next to her.
She steered the car toward a highway, already past the point of no return.
Copyright © 2019 by Zachary N. DiPego
ISBN-13: 9781488045783
Wyoming Cowboy Marine
Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Helm
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