The station was a lot busier than it had been when they first pulled up, and all of the people going in and out of the store were slowing down to take a look at the car. Max couldn’t blame them. The Honda’s right front was heavily damaged. The busted headlight and crumpled hood were the result of the collision with the fence. There were bullet holes in the doors and on the tailgate. The shards of glass all over the backseat were going to be a hazard to the dogs when it got dark because they wouldn’t be able to see them, so she would to have to stop somewhere and clean it up before then. As she steered the Honda away from the gas station and back toward the highway, she kept her eyes on the mirrors to make sure they weren’t being followed and hoped they could find a rest stop nearby so she could see to her dogs.
She found a spot thirty miles down the road. It took her all of ten minutes to do what she had to do, then she and her crew were rolling again.
They were now heading east, and the sun was setting behind them in all its blazing glory. The drive to Detroit would take nearly three hours, but Ossie was asleep, the Honda’s gas tank was full, and so far no one was on their tail. Max hoped for an uneventful ride.
It was not to be. As they passed through Grand Ledge, a suburb west of Lansing, the state capital, a Hummer sporting camouflage paint suddenly appeared in Max’s rear mirror. The hulking vehicle was a little ways back, but it looked to be rolling, so Max moved into the right lane to let it pass. When it came up beside her, she glanced over. Leaning out of the passenger window was a soldier with a gun. She stomped on the brake. Her quick reaction saved them because the Honda slowed just enough for the Hummer to pass it and mess up the gun man’s aim. The big gun gave off a boom that probably killed a tree or two along the roadside, but Max and her crew were in one piece.
Alarmed, she left the road and tore down the shoulder to pass the slow-moving traffic in front of her. The ride was bumpy and she prayed they didn’t run over something that would slash the tires, or hit a concrete bridge abutment. When she saw an opening in the traffic ahead, she powered back onto the pavement, floored the accelerator and took the Honda up to a smooth sailing ninety. The Hummer was trying to keep up, but it was boxy, slow, and big, no match for her smaller, nimbler vehicle.
She turned to check out Adam. He looked stunned. “You okay?” she asked him. She kept an eye on her mirror to make sure the Hummer wasn’t gaining.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “Was that the Army?”
Max was stunned, too. “It sure looked like it.”
Adam turned around to gauge the Hummer’s progress and saw that it was falling farther behind. “They could have killed us!”
“I think that was their intent.”
“What in the hell is going on?”
“Wish I knew,” Max said. “Why would the U.S. Army try and take us out?”
“Didn’t your friend say something about the Pentagon?”
“Yeah. Rogue elephants. I wonder if somebody’s gone off the farm?”
She looked over at Adam, who replied, “You mean like somebody operating outside the lines?”
“Yeah. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Really?”
Max knew that the stories of generals running amok were highly classified, which was why few people were aware of the four-star busted two years ago for providing weapons to a militia group in Washington State, or of another quietly tried and jailed six months ago for heading up an international trafficking ring that specialized in young Russian boys. Why would someone in the Army be after Adam’s prototype, though? The device had to hold some kind of serious value for all this drama to be happening. She wished she knew the answer because the question was nagging at her like a bad tooth.
Night had fallen as they sped from Lansing to Detroit. Neither she nor Adam had spoken in a while. Both were deep in thought, searching for clues to the riddle threatening their lives.
Max was glad it was dark. Checking her mirrors like clockwork for bogeys, she hoped the night would hide them until they reached Myk’s place.
She picked up the next bogey just outside of the city limits. She was heading south on the Lodge Expressway, glad to be only a few minutes from their destination, when a sleek silver sedan rolled up on her in the sparse evening traffic and tried to ram her from behind. Fighting to right the wheel, she managed to gain control, only to be bumped again with so much force the Honda was sent spinning like a break dancer on his head, across the two empty left lanes and directly toward the concrete highway divider. Cursing, Max turned the wheel in the direction of the spin, hoping they wouldn’t hit the divider head on. At the last second the steering caught and the tail end hit the wall instead. The impact slammed them. Pieces of plastic, shattered headlight housing, and sections of the bumper flew into the air, but she was already maneuvering the battered Honda back on the road.
The other car gave chase. No lumbering Hummer this time. The opposition was in something fast—faster than the Honda—but Max planned to give them a run for their money. In truth, what she really wanted to do was stop the car, grab her gun out of the back, and blow them to hell, but she doubted they’d be polite enough to wait for her to do that, so driving was all she had. Luckily, she was good at it.
She stomped the Honda up to ninety-five and dared them to keep up. Under the overhead lights illuminating the road, she did the next few miles weaving in and out of the traffic so fast the other cars she passed might as well have been standing still. On the long empty stretches she was rolling at a hundred, then 110. She flashed past a sign indicating construction up ahead, but pressed on with the sedan glued to her tail. She paid no attention to the next construction sign, which reminded her she was only a half mile from the construction and hoped the sedan would too. Max roared around a Greyhound bus poking along in front of her. Swinging the Honda back into the left lane, she saw the sedan appear from behind the bus then zoom up behind her. Her mirror showed the bus merging to the right in anticipation of the upcoming construction zone, then she focused her attention on driving. Less than thirty feet ahead stood huge concrete blocks cutting off the lane. Because of the Honda’s high profile, she was pretty sure the sedan couldn’t see around it and at the speed they were traveling, she was also sure they were counting on her to alert them to hazards. Wrong. As she neared the construction barrier it seemed to grow larger and larger. Max waited until the last possible moment to swing over, and as she zipped out, the sedan slammed into the concrete and went up in flames.
“Yeah!” Adam yelled, pumping a triumphant fist.
Max looked over at him and grinned. Ruby was barking in the backseat.
Adam said sagely, “I think I may need a new pair of drawers, but that was some hellified driving.” He looked back and saw the fire. It sobered him for a moment. “That could have been us.”
Max disagreed. “Not with me driving.”
Adam chuckled and sat back to enjoy the rest of the ride.
A short while later they were exiting the highway because the Honda was done. Having taken bullets, fences, rammings, and bounces off highway dividers it barely rolled. Max managed to coax it up the ramp and onto the street, but she sensed once she cut the ignition it wouldn’t start again.
Adam looked around at the stark, dark surroundings and didn’t have to be told that this was not one of the city’s better areas. “Where are we?”
“West side.”
Max considered her options. She could call Mykal, but Portia had warned her not to use her phone, and for good reason. Cells were notoriously insecure, and calling him might send the unwanted guests to his door. She thought about using the software on the laptop but dropped that idea, too. Nighttime brought out all kinds of predators and carnivores, and she didn’t want to wind up shooting some dummy bent on jacking her computer while she was sitting in the car using it. She peered around. For now they were on their own, and not knowing if the friends of the men in the Hummer or sedan were close by, waiting for another opportu
nity to pounce, she thought it best to find a hidey hole ASAP.
Jan and the others had been tracking the silver car and the Honda on Oskar’s computer. The camera mounted on the car’s dashboard had been able to give a real time view of the chase. The woman’s amazingly adept driving left Jan looking forward to meeting her face-to-face. She impressed him as being a remarkable individual and he wanted to know all about her. He’d silently cheered as the Honda was rammed and sent spinning across the road, but minutes later when a brilliant flash of light filled the screen just before it went dark, he demanded, “What’s happened?”
Oskar punched in codes and numbers. “Looks like the car crashed.”
“What!”
“I’m getting nothing from the sensors inside. Can’t tell if the drivers got out in time but it doesn’t appear as if they did.”
Sevi Crane, one of the young mercenaries, asked, “Are they dead?”
“Possibly.”
Jan cursed. He didn’t know the men in the car well enough to mourn, but he did mourn the fact that Gary continued to slip through his fingers. Detroit was a Black enclave he would normally have avoided given a choice, due to the crime and the races of the people who lived there, but necessity dictated he go in after the prey. The Hummer they were in was less than thirty minutes away. He and his men were now wearing the uniforms of the United States Army. Jan planned to use the ruse to do whatever it took to get Gary. A few well-placed calls from his Washington contacts would keep the local law enforcement agencies from interfering, and that was all the help he would need.
“Find the Honda’s last known location. With all the damage to it, it couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll begin our search there when we arrive.”
Ossie was stirring in the backseat, which meant the med was wearing off. Good, Max thought. She didn’t want to have to carry him. She looked over at Adam. He’d been a trooper so far. Not once had he told her how to drive or second-guessed any of the choices she’d made since leaving his place. She appreciated it, too. First chance she got, she planned to give him his just reward; not that she knew when that would be, because they were a little busy at the moment, but it would be ripe and ready when the time came. “I’m going to give Ossie a few more minutes to come off the drugs then we’ll head out.”
A skeptical Adam looked around. “Where?”
“Friend’s place. About six blocks. We’ll hole up there until morning.”
After all they’d been through, if she had told him they were waiting for the biblical pillar of cloud to lead them to safety, he would have been okay with it. Max Blake knew her job. She was fierce, beautiful, and deadly, and he was glad she was on his side.
Max and Adam spent the next few minutes preparing to abandon the Honda. She figured by morning the vehicle would either be stolen or stripped within an inch of its life. Either way, she hoped that anyone looking for Adam would lose the trail.
When they were ready, they got out with the dogs and started walking up the street. He had the prototype and his clothes stashed in the big duffel that had been resting on the backseat. Max was shouldering another duffel that held her laptop, a few personal necessities, and her toys.
It was a warm night. There was minimal traffic going up and down the small street and even less people. The area looked to be a forgotten place. The stores that had once been a viable and necessary part of the community were boarded up, and stood like aging hulks in the darkness. On the corner coming up was a mom-and-pop liquor store. Its lights flashed like a multicolored beacon.
A small group of men were hanging in front of the place, laughing and signifying, but when Max, Adam, and the dogs walked out of the darkness and into the store’s garish light, not a sound could be heard. The men seemed to sense the aura of danger surrounding Max as she passed by; Adam certainly did. No one moved or said a word.
A few blocks up, Max led Adam and the dogs around to the back of an old brick building that looked as abandoned as its neighbors. He could see boards over the windows and a few derelict cars languishing in what had once served as the parking lot. She walked up to a metal door and beat on it with the edge of her closed fist. When no one answered, she pounded again. A few seconds later a small panel in the upper portion of the door slid open and a pair of eyes filled the space. “Yeah?”
The voice came through a speaker but the dark made it impossible for Adam to determine its location.
Max said, “Tell Sweetness that Jinga’s here.”
The eyes studied Max and then Adam and the dogs. The panel closed just as noiselessly as it had opened. He looked over at Max but she was too busy scanning their surroundings to notice. A few minutes later the door was opened and they all went inside.
It took Adam’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. They were standing in what looked to be a bank lobby. He could see the teller stations and the counters along the walls, but everything, including the floors, was covered in dust, making the place look as abandoned on the inside as it appeared to be on the outside. The man who’d let them in, a buffed-up brother wearing a black suit and black turtleneck, was also armed. “This way,” he said.
Adam looked over at Max. She winked, but he could see the weariness in her eyes.
Their host ushered them onto an elevator whose walls were encased in the quilted padding usually reserved for freight elevators. The ride up took only a few minutes. According to the display panel, they were on the sixth floor when the doors opened again. They stepped out into a hallway of another world. The soft blue paint and the framed art lining the walls could have been the intro to any fancy penthouse apartment in New York or L.A. As they followed their guide, rooms to the right and left offered fleeting glimpses of expensive modern furniture, lavish drapes, and gleaming curio cabinets holding crystal.
Where are we? an amazed Adam wanted to know. Who’d created this slice of heaven in the middle of the struggling streets outside, and why?
The answer came in the form of a huge, bald, light-skinned man dressed in a gray silk turtleneck and dark pants. He stepped out of a room at the end of the hall and, at the sight of Max, spread open his long muscular arms like wings and said in a voice filled with knowing and affection, “Jinga.”
Adam watched Max step up to the hug and return it with equal affection. “How are you, Sweetness?”
“Always glad to entertain a queen. How have you been?”
The man smiled down at Ruby and Ossie. “Hey, you two. You been keeping your mama out of trouble?” He scratched their necks.
Only then did the man train his golden assessing eyes on Adam. “And this is?”
Adam said, “Adam Gary.”
Sweetness paused, studied Adam for a moment, then asked, “Dr. Adam Gary?”
Adam was surprised by the recognition. “Yes.”
“I read about you in Time magazine. Welcome to my home.”
“Thanks for taking us in.”
“The only time I see this lady lately is when she needs something,” he said, but again the affection in his voice was easy to hear. “Come on in. You all hungry?”
“Starving.” Max admitted.
“Good. The chef is here until midnight.”
Adam had a hundred questions he wanted answered but decided to wait until he knew more about what was going on.
For dinner, they were given a choice of prime rib or orange glazed Cornish hens. Max chose the hens. Adam went with the beef. The main course, framed by savory veggies and still warm yeast rolls, was served in a dining room straight out of a decorator’s magazine. The long table with its wine-red runner could easily sit twelve, so they congregated on one end while the dogs settled in on the far side of the room. Sweetness had sent one of his employees out to get food for Ruby and Ossie and they were patiently awaiting his return.
In the meantime, the three humans started in on their meals.
The food was fabulous, and Adam didn’t realize just how hungry he was until he dug in. “Tell your chef thanks,” a
grateful Adam said to Sweetness.
Sweetness nodded. “I will.”
Adam could see the man watching him discreetly, but he ignored the scrutiny for now in favor of satisfying his empty stomach. He couldn’t ignore how tired Max appeared, however. Watching her raise the wine goblet to her lips, he noticed that her motions had slowed. She was still alert, but visibly less animated. Which was only to be expected when one spent the day kicking butt. What a woman! Shaking his head with amused awe, he went back to his plate.
After the meal, Sweetness said to Max, “So, tell me what’s going on.”
“You know I can’t tell you everything.”
“Understood.”
“Here’s the basics…” Max told him as much as she thought he needed to grasp the situation. She left out the part about her connection to Mykal Chandler and his shadowy organization, NIA. Mykal and his half brother, Drake Randolph, Detroit’s mayor, formed the syndicate a few years back to battle crime by any means necessary. Sweetness didn’t need to be in Myk’s business, just like Myk didn’t need to be in his.
Sweetness listened to the part about the Hummer. “The Army?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“The man was dressed in Army fatigues, Sweet.”
“That’s deep.”
“No kidding.”
Sweetness turned his hawk gold eyes on Adam, who met the gaze easily. He could see the man sizing him up.
Sweet finally asked, “What do you think all this is about, Dr. Gary?”
It was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, but Adam had been mulling it over all day, and thought he had come up with the only answer that made sense. “Weapons. Somebody somewhere thinks my prototype can be turned into a weapon.”
Sweetness, sitting in a high-back chair that could have come from Windsor Castle, held up his wine goblet, smiled and said, “Bingo!”
Fifteen
Max stared. It made perfect sense. “Can it be modified for that?”
Sexy/Dangerous Page 18
