We crossed the street and were almost to Elvis when someone ran at us from a side street, taking us off guard and tackling Slash. I nearly went down with them, but I slipped off the curb and caught myself with a hand against the trunk of a car.
Slash was grappling with one of the Chinese security guys from the embassy. To my right, his partner ran toward us, yelling something and brandishing a gun. To my surprise, Elvis reached under his raincoat and pulled out something dark and elongated, hurling it at the figure.
The object hit the guy in the head hard and he went down without a sound.
“Get in the car,” Elvis shouted at me as he ran to try to help Slash.
“Are you nuts?” I shouted and bolted after him. “When have I ever done that?”
As I ran, I glanced about for some kind of weapon. I saw what looked like a piece of tailpipe lying in the gutter. I grabbed it and ran back to where the three of them were now rolling around fighting.
I waited until the most opportune moment and swung the pipe like a baseball bat. The pipe connected with the Chinese guy’s skull. He went down in a heap right on top of Slash. Elvis and I dragged him off, both of us panting from the excursion.
“Wow.” Elvis looked at me in surprise. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“Noted and likewise. What the heck did you throw at that guy?”
“Nunchucks.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m taking karate.”
“Really? That was a really good shot.”
“Thanks.”
Slash rolled to his feet. He had a bloody lip and nose. “Let’s get out of here.”
We bolted for the car. Slash had just opened the driver’s door when Elvis shouted a warning.
Slash and I whirled around. A man in a black jacket ran toward us with his gun out and pointed at Elvis. Before I could move, he fired.
It happened so fast I wasn’t able to react. But Slash was already in motion. He threw himself in front of Elvis, taking the shot instead.
“No!” I screamed as Slash went down.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The guy who’d fired kept running toward us before coming to a screeching halt about twenty feet away from us. Elvis had a gun.
“Don’t come any closer,” Elvis warned. “I’ll shoot you. I mean it.”
Thankfully it was dark so he couldn’t see the way Elvis’s hand was shaking. I dropped to my knees next to Slash. My chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. I rolled him over, bracing myself for what I expected to see except...I saw nothing. No blood, no trauma, no nothing.
“Slash?” I said, patting his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He tried to focus on me but his eyes rolled backward and he went limp.
“Slash!” I shouted, shaking him.
There was no response, but he was still breathing. I pressed my hand to his neck and felt his pulse, strong and steady. I had no idea what was going on.
“Look, don’t shoot me,” the guy was saying to Elvis. “We’re the good guys. I’m with the FBI. We’re instructed to bring you in safely. No one gets hurt. Just put the gun down and come in with me.”
My fingers brushed against something hard on Slash’s side. I yanked it out and held it up to the light.
“A dart?” I shouted at the FBI agent. “You shot him with a dart gun?”
“I told you, we don’t want to hurt you. We just want you to come in, okay? Let us keep you safe.”
I set Slash down on the ground and stood. “Like you did at the safe house?”
“We won’t let that happen again. I promise.”
I took the gun from Elvis, pointing it at the agent with a lot more confidence than Elvis. In fact, I was pretty mad right now. Shooting him was totally on the table.
“Elvis, get Slash in the car and climb in,” I said. “We’re leaving.”
“We’ll find you,” the agent said. “Don’t be dumb, Ms. Carmichael. How far are you going to get without him?” He jerked his head toward Slash. “He’ll be out at least twenty-four hours. Let us help you. You can’t do this alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
Elvis looped his hands beneath Slash’s armpits and pulled him into the backseat.
“Are the keys in the ignition?” I asked Elvis.
“They are.”
“Good. Get in the back with Slash and buckle up.”
A steadying determination and calm had settled over me. I had a photographic memory and I’d watched Slash enough times now to know the procedure. At least in theory. But sometimes theory was all you had until you put it into practice. No better time than the present to find out.
“Throw your gun behind you,” I instructed the agent. “As hard and far as you can.”
When he hesitated, I tightened my finger on the trigger. “I don’t have a dart gun. These bullets will hurt. I won’t kill you, but after I take out your kneecap, you won’t walk for six months. Rehabilitation will be extremely painful. In fact, you may not ever be able to return to fieldwork. You’ll be stuck behind a desk for the rest of your career. Your choice.”
I hoped I sounded confident. Statistically, the odds that I could hit his kneecap at this distance in the dark with only a couple of shooting lessons were not high, but he didn’t have to know that.
The agent tossed the gun behind him. I got into the car and started the ignition, peeling away from the curb and down the street.
“What are you doing, Lexi?” Elvis asked me from the backseat.
“Saving us, I hope,” I said, taking a hard right. “Whose car is this? It’s nice.”
“It’s mine,” Elvis said. “I traded the pickup for this car yesterday.”
“Great timing. Jeez. I hope I don’t dent your new baby.”
“No worries. I’ve got insurance.”
We’d gone only a few blocks when I glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted a tail. FBI, Chinese or police, or who knew? It wasn’t like I was going to stop and ask.
The black sedan screeched around the corner coming close to my back bumper, the headlights nearly blinding me in the mirror. They weren’t even trying to be sneaky. I punched the accelerator and we shot around another corner, my tires squealing. Slash and Elvis were flung around in the back.
Adrenaline shot through me as I accelerated down a straight stretch of road before yanking the steering wheel to the left and down a smaller street. The sedan roared right behind me. It was clear I’d have to get creative if I was going to shake them.
I suddenly had an idea. I punched the gas heading for the spot I had in mind. Until we got there, I needed only to keep them on my tail and hope they didn’t pick up any reinforcements. I’d driven this stretch of road many times and it might work if I could get the timing just right.
Two minutes, I thought. I just needed two freaking minutes.
I pushed hard on the gas, as we got closer to my destination. To my dismay, a police car fell in behind the sedan, lights and siren blaring. I had no idea if they were FBI reinforcements or just some random cop who was chasing the sedan and me for speeding. Either way, it was bad news. I’d just have to deal.
“Lexi, you got a plan?” Elvis asked from the backseat.
“I do. Brace yourself and Slash.”
To his credit, he didn’t ask for what. The object of my plan was just ahead. My breath was coming in hitches, my heart dancing a wild tango in my chest.
Hold the course, Carmichael. Think, plan, execute. You’ve got this.
I calmly calculated speed and velocity and adjusted accordingly. It was time to find my confidence behind the wheel. My earlier escapade with the Asian woman had taught me a valuable lesson. I needed to approach this as a mathematical problem like most of life. Calculate, concentrate and control. Still, my hands were slick on the
steering wheel.
“Ready, Elvis?” I asked grimly.
“Ready.”
We zoomed toward the curve. “Hold on tight. It’s showtime.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
At about one hundred feet from my destination, I did a mental countdown in my head. On exactly the count of one, I jerked the steering wheel hard to the left and careened around a sharp curve. The car fishtailed slightly, the back wheels scrambling for purchase before they finally gripped the asphalt, shooting us forward.
The sedan behind us and the police car behind them weren’t so lucky. They slammed on their brakes, but they were going too fast to compensate. Both cars slid off the road and into the ditch. I pressed on the gas and we sped away. I took several turns and twists until I felt sure we weren’t being followed anymore.
As soon as I felt safe, I slowed down, willing my heart to calm down before I gave myself a heart attack.
It was silent in the backseat, so I adjusted the rearview mirror and dared a glance back. “Elvis, are you guys okay back there?”
“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Elvis said, his voice as shaky as a loose bolt in a hubcap.
I pulled off my wig and tossed it on the seat beside me. My hair was soaked with sweat. “Mostly from observing Slash. Today you can add in the desperation variable. It’s a good motivator.”
“That was...incredibly frightening. What now?”
“I’m sorry, Elvis. I can’t take you home. They’ll be looking for you, especially since it’s likely they got the license off the car. You’ll have to come to our hotel. I’ve got to finish the code and figure out how to track Shi. What were you doing at the embassy?”
“Watching out for you guys, of course. Good thing, too.”
“Yes, it was. But you shouldn’t have risked yourself like that.”
“But it’s okay for you to do it?”
Jeez. Now I sounded like Slash. What goes around comes around.
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “You’re right. Thanks, Elvis. A lot. That’s the appropriate answer.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How’s Slash?”
“Alive, but completely out. They must have shot him with some kind of heavy sedative. The agent said he’d be out at least twenty-four hours.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror again. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m not sure we have twenty-four hours. I have a feeling someone—either the FBI, the NSA or the Red Guest—is going to find us before that.”
“I take it that means Jiang Shi was not receptive to the olive branch.”
“He basically told us he was going to annihilate us.”
“So much for détente.”
“No kidding.”
Remembering how Slash had checked for cars following him, I took several more detours before pulling up at the curb near the hotel. “Let’s get him up to the room and then I’ve got to park your car somewhere away from this hotel and hard to find. I’m sorry, Elvis.”
“I understand.”
We got Slash out of the car and carried him between us to a side door of the hotel. I had no idea how heavy he was in terms of deadweight. We struggled, mostly dragging his legs as we headed for the elevator. One curious female patron gave us a curious look.
Elvis shrugged and said, “My buddy drank too much.”
Somehow we got Slash up to the room and onto the bed. We both sat for a moment panting from the exertion until I stood, scooping up my jeans, T-shirt and socks and headed for the bathroom.
“I’m going to change and then go hide your car somewhere.”
Elvis nodded as he yanked Slash’s boots off his feet and slid a pillow under his head.
I pulled off the dress and the padding before washing my face and pulling my hair into a ponytail. It was nice to look like myself again. In thirty years, I’d probably look back on this moment and wish I could do the same thing.
I came out of the bathroom and handed Elvis his gun back. “I forgot to ask—since when did you start carrying a gun and nunchucks?”
“About a month ago. They came in deadweight handy, right?”
Couldn’t argue with that. “Right. You can fill me in later. For now, don’t let anyone in.”
I slid my arms into my black running jacket and took Slash’s hotel key card, slipping it in the back pocket of my jeans.
“The black code is there,” I said pointing at Slash’s laptop. I rattled off the login and password info. “He’s not done with it, but I think it’s going to be up to you and me to take it across the finish line. But first, I want you to find Jiang Shi.”
“How exactly am I going to do that?”
“At the party I noticed he’s got a dWatch.”
“One of those new digital watches?”
“Yep. See if you can hack in and find him.”
“Excellent idea.”
I went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, hugging him hard. “Thank you, Elvis. For everything.”
He hugged me back and then stepped away. We both looked down at Slash. He was still made up to look like a middle-aged man with the streaks of gray in his hair and the wrinkles on his face. He was breathing regularly, but his nose had dried blood crusted around it and his lip had swollen and was split on the left side. I needed to clean him up, but I had to hide the car first.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ve got this.”
Elvis sat on the opposite bed, his elbows braced on his knees. “That’s the second shot Slash took for me. He could have been killed both times, but he did it anyway. Who does that?”
I leaned over and brushed away a piece of hair from Slash’s cheek. “He does.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I chose a residential area to park Elvis’s car. It was about two miles away from the hotel. I’d circled around until I saw a town house that looked like the owners were on vacation. A few newspapers were lying in the driveway untouched and there was only one light on in the house. I parked the car and jumped out, circling around the back to look inside the house. The kitchen was spotless, no dishes in the sink or on the table.
It was as good a place as any to leave the car for now. Tromping through the backyard, I spotted a folded-up tarp. I snatched it in a moment of inspiration. I drove the car along the curb and covered it with the tarp. It wasn’t perfect, but would hopefully do the job for a bit.
Giving the tarp a final pat, I jogged back to the hotel and entered from the side door of the hotel again, using Slash’s key card. Elvis was working on Slash’s laptop when I came in.
“How did it go?” he asked, looking up.
“Fine. I parked it about two miles away in front of someone’s town house under a dark blue tarp. Looks like they’re on vacation. It won’t fool anyone for long, but we only need a day or two.” I handed him the car keys and he slid them into his pocket.
“Good enough, then.”
I wet a washcloth in the bathroom and came back, sitting on the bed next to Slash. He was still breathing evenly and deeply, his chest rising and falling. I checked his pulse and it seemed normal.
“I think he’s okay, but I worry about him becoming dehydrated.”
“That’s inevitable without an IV,” Elvis said. “But we only need twenty-four hours. He’ll be okay.”
Although theoretically Elvis was right, it was still hard not to worry. Was any of this worth risking his life? I had only to remind myself that bringing Slash in, especially when he was this vulnerable, would be worse. I had no idea who might be able to get to him in the hospital while he was unconscious. As much as I didn’t like it, this was the better solution. I dabbed at his lip and nose until his face was clean of blood.
&n
bsp; “Elvis, I forgot to tell you not to use your phone. Did you?”
“I’m not stupid. I didn’t. It’s turned off. Don’t worry. I got a message to Xavier in my own way. He knows we’re okay. By the way, he’s almost finished with his piece of the code. As soon as he’s done, he’ll shoot it my way and I’ll add it to mine.”
I exhaled a breath. “Great.” I pointed at my laptop. “How’s that going?”
“Well, I’ve started the hack on the dWatch. While that’s been running, I’ve been reviewing Slash’s code. He’s really, really good, Lexi. It’s both spectacular and twisted. What’s in his head...man, I don’t even want to know.”
I didn’t tell Elvis that part of the code was mine.
He continued. “I think Slash is probably the best wizard in the US right now, maybe even the world. This kind of talent across the board—it’s pretty rare.”
“Except for yours and Xavier’s.”
“No.” He shook his head. “This is different, Lexi. Sure, I can write dark code if I have to, but not like this. Not with such...flair. I don’t have the stomach or aptitude for it. This kind of mastery of dark coding is organic. You either have the skill or you don’t. Slash clearly has it in abundance, which is why he’s so good, as well as dangerous.”
I stuffed my hands in my exercise jacket to prevent Elvis from seeing them shake. What had Slash said to me earlier?
“I’d say it was almost intuitive for you.”
Slash had seen that in me—one coder to another. It hadn’t been false praise. either. He’d been right. It had flowed out of me easier than I’d ever expected. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how or why it had been that easy.
I pushed aside that line of thinking for another time. “Can you access your part of the code from here?”
“Of course. But we have to finish what Slash started first. I’m just trying to get up to speed and figure out where he’s going with it.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to. I know where he’s going with it. I’ll do it.”
Elvis looked up at me, surprised. “You want to finish coding this, Lexi?”
No Strings Attached Page 19
