Private Beijing

Chapter 52

Justine ran back to the Nissan Rogue with Sci and Mo-bot trailing her.

“Give me the keys,” she yelled, and Sci tossed them over.

She jumped behind the wheel and started the engine, while Sci and Mo-bot, older and less fit, got in the car, panting for breath.

Justine put the Nissan in gear and shot out of the parking lot.

“Stay on this road,” Mo-bot said from the back seat. It curved out of the industrial estate.

“Next left,” Mo-bot said.

Justine swung the wheel and took a narrow left turn that led them out of the industrial estate into a rundown residential neighborhood. Two-story aluminum homes lined the street, standing behind rows of rusty pick-up trucks and old cars.

“Next right,” Mo-bot said.

Justine slowed as they approached the mouth of another residential street. When she turned the wheel and cleared the house on the corner, she saw a face she recognized: Angel, sitting behind the wheel of a utility vehicle that was reversing down the driveway of a dilapidated bungalow.

“There he is,” Justine said. “Put your seat belts on.”

Sci was already clipped in, but Mo-bot hurriedly snapped her buckle in its anchor.

“Hold on,” Justine said.

“Don’t do anything crazy,” Sci responded.

“Too late for that,” she countered, accelerating toward the cab of the target vehicle.

Angel saw them at the last moment and reached down to grab something — probably a weapon — but he wasn’t fast enough. The Rogue hit the black Chevrolet Express just by the driver’s door. The impact sent the vehicle spinning into the road.

The airbags in both people carrier and utility deployed. While Justine’s deflated she composed herself.

“Everyone okay?” she asked. Sci and Mo-bot nodded tentatively.

Justine got out to find smoke billowing from the Nissan’s engine, which had been exposed after the hood crumpled on impact. The front bumper had become part of the Chevrolet. She hurried to the driver’s window of the other vehicle and saw the cab was empty and the passenger door open. Angel was twenty yards away fleeing toward Grand Avenue, a busy road that connected the residential neighborhood with the Long Island Expressway. He had a pistol in his hand.

Justine was about to set off after him when she heard a voice yell, “Help me!”

She ran to the rear doors and flung them open to discover Alison Lucas lying on the flatbed. She’d been bound but had managed to work her gag loose.

“Alison!” Justine had met Rafael’s wife at a couple of corporate events. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Justine?”

She glanced round to see Sci and Mo-bot emerging from the Nissan. Sci looked the least dazed.

“We found Alison. Keep her safe. I’m going after Angel,” said Justine.

Sci grimaced as he nodded.

Justine glanced west to see Angel run around the corner. She set off after him at a sprint.