Page 32 of Wild Oblivion

“You need new synchros,” I said.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

It was a common problem with the 915 gearbox. Not a cheap fix, but nothing was on these cars.

We caught up to the van as they came to a stop at Stone Crab, waiting on cross traffic. The passenger hung a pistol out of the window and blasted a few shots at us.

Muzzle flashed from the barrel.

Bullets snapped by, narrowly missing the Porsche.

The van took off, barreling across two lanes of traffic. It reached the median, then threaded the needle, darting left into traffic.

Jack had to wait for another gap.

A few cars passed, then he dumped the clutch. The tires gripped the concrete and launched us forward. He skipped the problematic second gear and threw it into third as we rounded the corner, but without the torque, we got passed by a small import four-banger.

The van took another right a few blocks ahead on Turnbull Lane.

We finally caught up and followed.

Avoiding second gear was a little problematic around town and definitely gave the perps the advantage.

By that time, Tango One was in the air and had a visual on the van.

It's hard to outrun a helicopter.

But these guys were going to give it the good old college try.

We stayed with them as best we could. After a few twists and turns, the perps pulled into the parking garage of an office complex, getting out of the line of sight of Tango One.

By the time we got into the garage, the vehicle was parked in the middle of the lane, the doors wide open. The perps were long gone. They had taken off on foot and disappeared into the building, most likely.

Patrol cars screeched onto the scene and surrounded the premises.

JD and I pulled in behind the van, hopped out, and drew our weapons. We flanked the van and approached with caution.

I advanced alongside the vehicle and angled my pistol into the front cabin.

Empty.

We hustled around to the rear and pulled open the cargo doors. Henrik was still strapped in.

The sedative had started to wear off, but he was still a little groggy.

“I’m beginning to think Henrik is a high-value asset,” Jack said.

Maybe he was.

Deputies searched the office building, and more patrol units arrived on the scene.

The patter of Tango One thumped overhead as the helicopter kept circling.

A search of the building turned up nothing.

Deputies Erickson and Faulkner discovered scrubs in a stall in one of the bathrooms. The perps had likely stashed a change of clothes in advance and walked out of the building like nothing had happened. A fallout location in case things had gone south. It showed they had some sophistication and foresight.

We found out later that the van had been stolen but hadn’t been reported. The company had gone out of business two months ago, and all the vehicles had been sitting in a lot surrounded by a chain-link fence, rimmed with concertina wire. Nobody knew the van was even missing.