She glanced at Jessie as she climbed into the passenger seat. “We can get him to help us to find Dee,” she said quietly. “I believe him.”
“I can see you do.” Jessie shrugged. “I hope you’re right. Better let Kelland know we’re on our way.”
But Kendra was already on the phone to Kelland. “We got Adrian.”
He sounded surprised. “By ‘got’ you mean…”
“Hands zip-tied behind his back, stuffed into the backseat of Jessie’s SUV.”
“You’re not joking.”
Jessie started the SUV and peeled out.
“Definitely not joking.” Kendra turned around and held up the phone. “Adrian, say something to the nice FBI man.”
“I want a lawyer and protection the minute we pull up in front of your office.”
She pulled the phone back to her ear. “That’s Adrian.”
“Can’t wait to meet him. What’s his story?”
Kendra filled Kelland in on the information they’d gathered from Adrian, emphasizing his meetings with the mysterious Arthur Cabot.
After she finished, Kelland paused for a moment. “Good work. But did it even occur to you to loop me in when you got your lead on him?”
“Actually, no. If you really wanted to tag along with us for every lead that may or may not pan out, you wouldn’t have time for anything else. I think you have better things to do with your time.”
“Maybe so. Especially if you believe my contribution would be limited to ‘tagging along.’”
“No offense. We all have our strengths, Kelland.”
“Nice. I’ll make sure the team is here when you arrive with Adrian.”
“Good. We’ll be there inside of two hours.” Kendra cut the connection and turned to Jessie. “He’s only slightly annoyed.”
Jessie didn’t respond. Her eyes were focused on the rearview mirror.
“What is it?”
“Not sure. Maybe nothing.”
Kendra leaned forward to look in the side mirror. The highway behind them was deserted except for two men on motorcycles. As she watched, the men exchanged hand signals.
“See that?” Jessie said.
“Yes.”
“Any idea what they’re saying to each other?”
“No.”
“Me neither. But they’ve been making those signs to each other for the past half mile.”
Kendra watched them for a moment longer. “It’s not sign language for the deaf.”
“And they’re not motorcycle group riding signals, at least none that I’ve ever seen.”
Kendra looked at the men for a moment longer. They wore black leather jackets and matching black helmets that looked as menacing and stylish as their identical Ducati motorcycles. The riders were now facing forward.
Kendra called back to Adrian. “Get down. Now.”
Adrian spun around to look out the back windshield.
Kendra grabbed him by his back collar and yanked him down so that his face slammed onto the car seat. “What did I just say?”
Adrian made a choking sound. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to see.”
“Friends of yours?”
“No.”
“Maybe your buddy Arthur?” Jessie said.
“Hard to say. These guys look bigger than he was.”
“They’re both loaded down with padding and tactical vests,” Kendra said.
The two riders split and raced toward Jessie’s SUV, advancing on it from either side.
Jessie gripped the wheel harder. “Shit. Both of you get down.”
Kendra slid lower in her seat. “What about you?”
“Someone needs to drive this thing.” She checked her side-view mirror. “I think this one is wearing a holster underneath his jacket.”
Kendra tilted her side-view mirror down so she could see the motorcyclist on her side. “This one, too. Major artillery, by the looks of it.”
The rider next to Jessie sharply pointed to the side of the road, indicating for her to pull over.
Jessie put on an extra burst of speed, leaving the riders slightly behind. She reached under her jacket, pulled out a small handgun, and placed it barrel-down in a cup holder.
Kendra stared at it. “What are you doing with that?”
“Depends on what they do.”
Kendra moistened her lips. “Got one for me?”
Jessie gave her a sideways glance. “I didn’t think you liked guns all that much.”
“I don’t. But desperate times…”
“I’m good with guns. My uncle in Texas taught me,” Adrian piped up from the back. “I’ll take one.”
“Forget it,” Jessie said. “No more guns, at least none that are handy. Both of you just stay down.” She turned to Kendra. “If I ask you to take the wheel, grab it.”
“From over here?”
“Keep us in a straight line, no matter what happens. We’re not slowing down for anything.”
“Not even that?” Adrian said, pointing out Jessie’s window.
The rider had a submachine gun aimed at her head.
Jessie spun the wheel hard left, and the rider swerved into the opposing lane. She stepped hard on the accelerator.
“They both have guns out now.” Kendra looked into her side-view. “Looks like Uzis.”
Jessie nodded. “Mini Uzi carbines with forty-round mags. Matching.”
“Gotta like murderous thugs who know how to coordinate accessories,” Kendra murmured.
RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT! A barrage of gunfire pounded the back windshield, which in seconds became a translucent white.
But the glass was still intact.
“What the hell?” Adrian glared in astonishment up at the window.
“Bulletproof glass all around,” Jessie said.
RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT! Another hail of bullets hit the back windshield.
“Bulletproof?” Kendra looked at the window. “Just another day at the office for you?”
“Not quite. I sometimes use this vehicle when I’m working as bodyguard, and it makes the client feel safer. But each pane is only rated for five shots. That back one’s already taken a couple dozen.”
RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT! The rear passenger side window exploded in another gunfire bombardment. Adrian cut loose with a distinctively girlish scream.
The rider, with gun still extended before him, pulled closer to Kendra’s window.
Kendra slid up slightly and unlocked her door. She gripped the handle and nodded to Jessie.
Jessie nodded back.
The motorcycle’s roar filled her ears, and its shadow slowly moved across her dash…
“Now!”
Kendra pulled the handle back, swiveled in her seat, and kicked the door open.
It struck the motorcycle, catapulting the rider over his handlebars. He hit the pavement in a heap. His gun went flying, and the motorcycle spun crazily on its side on the pavement, its motor still roaring.
“One down,” Jessie said. “Now if we can just—”
RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT!
The back windshield finally gave way, falling apart in several large chunks.
The remaining rider raced behind them, his Uzi now fortified by an even larger ammo clip.