Cross Country (Alex Cross 14)

BLUE-UNIFORMED COPS WERE running up on either side of our car. When they threw open the doors and grabbed at us, Adanne came out easily. I was a lot more work for them.

When I was finally pulled from the front seat, I came up swinging, crunching a straight right fist into somebody’s chin. It felt good.

Then two of them flung me down hard onto the pavement. That didn’t feel so good. Something popped in my shoulder. Jesus!

My arm flew up reflexively, and a wave of pain crashed over me, even as I felt the joint slip back into place. I wasn’t sure if I could move the arm again, though. How could I fight them now?

The police were yelling on all sides, at least four of them screaming in a mishmash of languages I couldn’t understand. Then one of them fired his service revolver into the air to make his point crystal clear.

Adanne was shouting too. “I’m with the Guardian! I’m a reporter. Press!”

I could see under the car to where she was lying facedown on the other side. There were pairs of black shoes moving all around her. Then a pistol was pointed at her head.

But that didn’t stop her from yelling at them. “Adanne Tansi! I’m with the Guardian!”

She shouted it over and over, not just for them, but for anyone who could hear in the neighborhood. We had already stopped traffic on both sides of the street.

With any luck, Adanne had just gone from anonymous suspect to known entity. It was a good move—especially given her state of mind after what had happened at her parents’ house.

I saw two of the cops who were standing over me exchange a look. One reached down to pull my hands back and cuff me. When he did, my shoulder felt like it was being torn in half.

Then I was punched and kicked in the small of the back. Everything was getting hazy and surreal again in a hurry. I couldn’t let myself black out.

“Alex!” Adanne’s voice came again. “Alex! I’m over here! Alex!”

I turned my head to look for her. The heel of a shoe came down on my cheek and temple. But I saw her anyway. The police were dragging her away. Past a standard cruiser—to an unmarked black sedan.

Going where?

“She’s with the Guardian!” I yelled at the top of my voice. “She’s with the Guardian! She’s press!”

Adanne kicked and twisted, and I tried to roll the two cops off my back.

But it was too little too late. Adanne was still shouting when they stuffed her into the black sedan, slammed the door, and drove off in a hurry.

Chapter 109

A FEVERED VOICE inside my head was screaming for me to help Adanne, but I knew I should think things through before I tried anything.

I had no idea, and no way to find out, if the car they had put me in was following Adanne’s. I was in a police unit, though. Small and cramped by DC standards. Smelling strongly of tobacco and sweat and somebody’s urine. Were these men policemen?

I sat sideways on a ripped vinyl seat in back. My hands were cuffed, and a rusted metal security grate was a few inches from my face. My shoulder throbbed and I was afraid it was broken. But that was the least of my worries right now. What I cared about most was Adanne and what was happening to her.

“Where did they take her?” I asked. The two uniforms in front wouldn’t even turn to look at me. I couldn’t provoke them.

“Talk to me. Tell me where we’re going,” I demanded to know.

Then I saw for myself, and it couldn’t have been any worse.

The first thing I recognized was the signpost at the turnoff for Kirikiri. Then the familiar concrete walls and razor wire crisscrossing the top.

Oh hell, no.

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I felt like I’d fallen into some kind of hell on earth. Going in here the first time had been bad enough, but heading back when I knew what to expect?

It took the two cops and two more prison guards to get me out of the car and inside the jail.