Coit Tower (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - Chasing Chinatown Trilogy Book 3)

by Ty Hutchinson

  “Just don’t get all old on me and pull a hamstring, okay?”

  We stood at the bottom of the steps. The intersection was roughly twenty-five yards away—fifty total to cover. Kang fished a quarter out of his jeans. “To be fair, I’ll flip this in the air. When it hits the ground, that’s the starting gun. Clear?”

  I had both knees bent, my left leg slightly ahead of the other. “Stop yapping and flip the coin.”

  As soon as a few passersby cleared the sidewalk, Kang flicked his thumb, and the coin rocketed up toward a tree limb overhead, nearly hitting it. My eyes remained fixed on it as its trajectory upward turned into a descent downward. I leaned forward in anticipation, my heels lifting up and my breathing slowing. The spinning coin neared the sidewalk, and both of my legs were on the cusp of springing me forward.

  Tink!

  We shot out of our stances equally, but my tiny steps propelled me into an early lead. I didn’t dare let up. I knew Kang’s long strides would eventually have him closing the gap. I concentrated on the corner and pumped my arms as fast as I could, calling on every muscle in my body to give its all. There was a lot of ego on the line.

  As I closed in on the intersection, I began to weigh my course of strategy: slow early on and risk Kang passing me or take the chance for a hard stop. If I waited too long, stopping could pose a problem. Slow too early, and it would be akin to waving Kang to pass me.

  I opted to slow early on, five steps from the edge of the corner. Even if that allowed Kang to catch up, he still had to slow down, and he had more mass to contend with. I knew I could again pull away quickly thanks to my small gait.

  The scenario played out just as I had thought. Kang caught up, and we hit the corner’s edge at the same time. Kang needed an extra step to stop and turn. I used that to my advantage. With my head down, I leaned forward and pumped my legs. My eyes closed briefly. When I opened them, I could see the finish line in sight. My peripheral vision told me Kang was still behind me. All I needed to do was hang on for a few more seconds, and I would have obtained bragging rights for life.

  I closed in on the stairs, but so did Kang. I could hear his breathing and the pounding of his feet against the cemented sidewalk. A second later, he appeared next to me. I was slightly ahead, but he was gaining. I willed my legs to move faster. The burn in my thighs was excruciating. My breaths were deep and fast through my mouth. I gripped my fists tighter, my nails digging into my palms. My brow tightened into a vise-like cramp as I concentrated on moving my body as fast as humanly possible for a short woman. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes and streamed along the side of my face.

  Kang had pulled up even with me. We seemed to be right in step with each other. We were almost there. Five steps. Four steps. Three steps. Two steps. Last step. Lean.

  Chapter 56

  The disagreement on who won carried on much longer than the few seconds it had taken us to race. Days to be exact—probably never an end in sight. Kang argued that he had me on the lean. I countered that I had thrust my right arm forward, and that gave me the photo finish. There would never be a clear winner.

  With the investigation wrapping up, Kang would return to his duties with the SFPD and I to mine with the bureau. We had become friends, good friends, and I knew not working together didn’t mean we wouldn’t talk or see each other. We only lived five minutes apart.

  To celebrate our fallen comrades, Reilly had organized a small memorial luncheon at the Cliff House near Ocean Beach. Reilly, House, Knox, Copeland, Kang, and I attended.

  While gathered around a table overlooking the ocean, we raised shots of vodka in a toast to those who had given their lives in the line of duty. Agent Austin Tucker we lost when we were chasing Team Carson. In Bangkok, there was Detective Songwut Soppipat, or as he preferred to be called, Artie. Lastly, Agent Marty Castro, who CSI later determined had died at the hands of a traitor: Lin.

  We talked about each one and shared our funny and touching personal stories. It was a nice way to remember them. Eventually, the conversation turned back to shoptalk as we each threw out our own theories on why Sei had killed the mastermind.

  I kept my own theory to myself. I thought I had a pretty good one, too. I had asked Kang if he could return the teapot, hoping we could use it as leverage to entice Sei back for another visit since it was of value to her. I had left it on the night table near the bed before we’d left for his place.

  Later when I returned to the tong to clear out my belongings, the teapot was gone. I asked Knox and Copeland if anybody had been up to the top floor, and they said no one had. In fact, they were the only people in the tong.

  I checked the window. It was shut but unlocked. I could only assume that she had somehow gotten inside the room and taken her teapot. It was the only logical reason for it to go missing again. Though there was one more thing.

  Before I left the room, I used the toilet. While I peed, I noticed a crumpled box in the trash bin. I didn’t recall throwing anything away in the plastic bin, ever. Maybe Knox or Copeland had. Surely they could have been up here looking at the boards and had the need to use the bathroom, but I didn’t think that was the case.

  The packaging was a pregnancy test. I hadn’t had sex for quite some time, so I could safely rule out my need for one. Add that I was the only female agent on the premises, and it started to narrow down the owner. Only one other woman had access to that bathroom.

  “I didn’t come here to save your life, Abby. I came here to save the lives of your children.”

  Those had been Sei’s exact words. Could that have been the reason for her change of heart? Had her motherly instincts kicked in? Was she retiring? Was that even possible for a person like her? I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I used a pen to poke around in the bin but couldn’t find the pee stick. Of course she took it with her. Whatever her reason for killing the mastermind, she had done me one hell of a favor. I’d like to think that not bringing up the pregnancy test with the group was my way of calling it even.

  I looked at everyone gathered at the table that day, discussing the possibilities; none of it came remotely close to what I knew might actually be the reason. I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t the only one who had misjudged her.

  Chapter 57

  The Cliff House sat perched on a headland overlooking the Pacific Ocean. While the others left quickly, House and I took our time. She had caught a ride with me. The sky remained cloudless, and the fog had disappeared, making for a stunning view from the restaurant. We couldn’t help but snap a couple of photos of ourselves with the backdrop and enjoy the moment.

  Eventually, I had the valet bring my car around, and we drove off. I always enjoyed House’s company. Over the years we had become close friends. I had always had trouble making friends with other women; men seemed to be easier for me. But that wasn’t the case with House. She understood me and didn’t fault me for my ways.

  We decided to take the long way back to the office, driving through Sutro Heights Park and then through the wooded Presidio Park. We eventually we found ourselves on Billionaire’s Row, a stretch of three blocks along Broadway between Lyon and Divisadero Street. Elegant mansions with breathtaking views of the bay lined the street. They were home to people such as Larry Ellison, founder of Oracle; Ann and Gordon Getty; Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi; and Mark Pincus, creator of Zynga and that addictive farm game.

  House stared out her window. “The wealth that is concentrated in this one tiny block is ludicrous.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled.

  “What is it?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice stronger.

  “You’ve had your eyes glued to that rearview mirror ever since we left the restaurant.”

  “Eh…”

  “What?” House’s tone signified her curiosity.

  “I think there’s a car following us.”

  House turned around and looked through the rear window. “I don’t see anything.”

&
nbsp; We had just crested one of San Francisco’s many steep hills. “Wait a second.”

  House craned her neck a bit more and waited. Shortly after, a forest green Mustang appeared on top of the hill.

  <><><>

  Adaira Kilduff gripped the steering wheel tightly. Perspiration bubbled above her lip even though the air outside had been a cool sixty-five degrees and breezy. The tinted windows were rolled up to help keep their identities hidden. The air conditioner had been kept off. She preferred the warmth.

  Alex, her butch-boi tagalong, sat in the passenger seat with a shotgun resting between her legs. Everything was phallic with her. On her round head sat large, on-ear headphones pumping bass into her ears. Her eyes were closed. Adaira couldn’t tell whether she was asleep or not. It didn’t matter so long as she wasn’t running her mouth. Earlier she had kept making the same joke about how she was literally riding shotgun.

  Putting up with Alex had grown old fast. Adaira hadn’t thought it would take so long to get to Kane, but it had. She’d thought she could wrangle Alex into helping her kill the agent, collect the prize money, and disappear before she could adjust herself again, as if she packed manhood between her legs.

  Adaira had known from the very beginning that a few days at the most were all she could take of the man-girl with bad breath, but she’d proceeded with her plan anyway, thinking it couldn’t take that long to kill Kane. It had been well over a week. Patience had thinned.

  Finding out the game was over didn’t help matters. It only doused them with gasoline and tossed a lit match into it. Having to put up with Alex’s constant groping, her unintelligible musings, and returning oral duties on her unkempt snatch wouldn’t be for naught, Adaira thought. Someone had to pay.

  Ever since the game had taken a winner-take-all aspect, Adaira had convinced herself that she could win. She believed it so much that at night, after what had become routine dyke sex with Alex, she would fall asleep dreaming of luxurious living far from her butch girlfriend. But as it stood, she had run out of money and was stuck with Alex’s constant and incessant tongue flicking.

  Earlier, she had parked off to the side of the road that led down toward the Cliff House restaurant, having followed Kane there. When the pack of agents exited the restaurant, her resolve to make Kane pay for putting her in that unfathomable situation had intensified. Seeing the petite agent in a joyful mood had only stoked her foulness.

  “Alex!” she called out. “Wake up.”

  “Babe, I am up. I’m just chilling.”

  Adaira pressed down on the accelerator, prompting the metal monster to growl. “It’s time.”

  <><><>

  “How long has it been behind us?” House asked.

  “Since we left the restaurant, I think. Really, I only started to pay attention when we were driving through the Presidio.”

  “Well, there aren’t too many ways out of the park. It doesn’t seem out of place for it to be taking the same route. Make a left up here.”

  I turned onto Scott, heading north. A few seconds later, the Mustang rounded the corner. I took the next right at Vallejo. I kept my eyes glued to the rearview mirror, waiting to see if I had overreacted. Like clockwork, the Mustang appeared behind us.

  “No way this is coincidence,” I said.

  “Pull over here.” House pointed. “Let them drive by. Maybe we can get a look at the driver.” The glare on the windshield had obstructed our view into the vehicle thus far.

  I did as she said. We watched the vehicle approach, and just as it was about to pass us, it sped up, leaving us looking at a darkened rear window. “So much for seeing who’s behind the wheel.” I stayed put, and the Mustang made a left at the next intersection, which was convenient because I had planned to make a right so that we were heading south again, back toward the Civic Center.

  “You’re still jumpy from the investigation,” House said. “It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “Maybe you’re right, but…”

  “But you’re wondering if this is another team.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Well, it’s a pretty distinct-looking car. When we get back to the office, we can run a check on all newer-model Mustangs registered in the Bay Area. Maybe we can narrow it down. Forest green isn’t exactly a popular color.”

  I dropped my car into gear and accelerated back into the street. I made a right at the next stop and tried to put the thought of the Mustang out of my head. I followed Pierce Street to Alta Plaza Park and made a left onto Jackson. I knew I could take that to Van Ness, and from there it would be an easy drive back to the Philip Burton Federal Building.

  I had just crossed through the next intersection when I looked in the rearview mirror. The road behind us was empty. Relax, Abby. I shook my head and chuckled internally before looking once more. The Mustang was back.

  <><><>

  Adaira punched the accelerator with her foot, and the back wheels chirped as they gripped the asphalt. The Mustang pulled into the oncoming lane. Alex pumped the shotgun handgrip once, chambering a round, before shoving the barrel of the rifle out the window. Her arms shook; it had been a while since she had fired a gun at someone. She licked her lips and lowered her head for a view down the barrel.

  They were coming up fast on the Charger. Alex planned on unloading one shot right into the driver’s-side window. Adaira had three GoPro cameras mounted inside the car to document the kill for the game; at least, that had been the plan when the game had still been active. Steve McQueen might have survived in Bullitt, but Abby Kane wouldn’t. Even though the cameras were no longer needed, Adaira still wanted to capture it all on film—a personal memento.

  They were seconds away from lining up with the Charger. “Now, Alex! Do it now!” Adaira shouted.

  Alex pulled the trigger, and the recoil sent the barrel flying up, smacking the top of the window frame. She had missed.

  “Shit! You told me you could shoot that thing.”

  “I can,” Alex shouted back, “but she slammed on her brakes. Get me back alongside them. I’ll get that bitch.”

  Adaira hit the brakes and threw the Mustang into reverse. The engine whined as the car raced backward toward Kane’s vehicle. Alex pumped the handgrip once more and stuck the barrel back out the window. The Charger had begun to accelerate as well and was fast approaching but turned left onto another street before Adaira could reach it. She hit the brakes, shifted gears, and sent the rear wheels spinning as she chased after them.

  The Charger turned right at the next stop, tires screeching. Adaira made the right with the same ease before hitting the accelerator again.

  “Looks like they’re heading toward Van Ness,” Alex pointed. “We’ll be able to pull up beside them if they do.”

  Adaira shifted into a lower gear and gave the Mustang more gas. They were right on the tail of the Charger. She tried to pull up along the driver’s side but couldn’t find a break in the oncoming traffic. Frustrated, she slammed into the rear of the Charger. It swerved a bit but quickly regained control.

  The light was green, and the Charger didn’t slow, giving Adaira the impression it was continuing straight through. But just as it was about to clear the intersection, the vehicle made a sharp left turn, the back end swinging out before straightening. Adaira hooked her steering wheel and followed suit. As they approached the Charger on the right, it quickly maneuvered over to the left lane, blocking them.

  “Shit!” Adaira screamed in frustration.

  “Pull up on the other side. I’ll blast them from there.” Alex leaned over Adaira and stuck the shotgun out the window.

  The passenger-side window of the Charger lowered, and a handgun appeared and fired a shot.

  Adaira hit the brakes and swerved behind the Charger. “They’re firing back.”

  “You need to get me to the right side of the car. I’ll cap her ass this time. I swear.”

  The Charger wove in and out of traffic, able
to stay ahead of the Mustang, cutting it off every time it made a move to drive up alongside the Charger.

  <><><>

  House grabbed the bucar radio I had installed and called the bureau’s dispatcher. “Shots fired. I repeat, shots being fired. Vehicle is a forest-green Mustang with two females inside. Weapon appears to be a shotgun, possibly tactical.”

  “Are you currently in pursuit?” the dispatcher asked.

  “Negative. The vehicle is in pursuit of us. We’re heading east toward Van Ness.”

  “Roger that. I’ll have all agents in the vicinity respond and notify SFPD to assist.”

  We needed to figure out a way to quickly contain these two nuts. It was only a matter of time before they shot an innocent person—or us. We had no idea what kind of other weaponry the occupants of the vehicle were equipped with outside of the shotgun they had used. We couldn’t take the chance of stopping to engage. We weren’t wearing bulletproof vests and only had our department-issued Glocks on us. Even though I had a tactical shotgun in the trunk, the situation was too unpredictable. I thought briefly of ramming their vehicle but decided the better plan was to lead them to a less trafficked area while we waited for backup.

  I turned left at the next intersection, heading west back toward Ocean Beach.

  “Where are we going?” House asked.

  “Back to Presidio Park. There’s less traffic there and less of a chance they’ll shoot someone. Hopefully, by then we’ll have backup.”

  House remained in contact with the bureau’s dispatcher, radioing our position. I pressed down on the accelerator, and the Charger shot forward, its wheels leaving the asphalt briefly as a small hill launched us into the air.

  No sooner had we hit the ground than we accelerated up a steeper hill like a coaster making its climb to the top. The only difference was that we were doing 65 MPH, essentially rocketing forward on a ramp for all intents and purposes. I was familiar with the street and knew the hill didn’t peak like others and immediately turn into a descent. It flattened at the top.