Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

"Koss is taking a breather," I said. "The Contrapasso guys?"

"One dead. One wounded. I'm guessing Koss got free and caused the crash, but the wounded guy is in no shape to talk. I called my contact. He'll deal with it. Nothing I can do."

I nodded, and we came up with a plan, quickly, before Koss got his second wind.

Koss had stopped prowling the intersection and set out again. He wasn't running now, presumably having decided no one was coming after him. We kept as quiet as possible, speeding up only when the roar of a distant car would mask our footfalls. We had split up, too, with Quinn across the road and Jack fifty feet behind me.

We'd reached a slightly busier area. As the occasional car passed, we'd all hear it and take cover momentarily. Each time, I'd tense, fearing I'd see a taxi. If Koss spotted one, he'd grab it. But they were just cars and he continued on, heading east toward a four-lane road that would promise public transit. We needed to get to him before he reached it.

I glanced back at Jack. That's all it took for him to break into a lope and catch up as I continued walking. Across the road, Quinn glanced over. I motioned for him to keep an eye out. Jack checked the GPS and quickly calculated how long we had. Not long enough. Not at this speed. Any faster, though, and our footsteps would echo through the silent streets.

He handed me back the GPS, then I took off my shoes and broke into a run. That fixed the problem, even if I couldn't go quite as fast as I would otherwise. The sidewalk was old, crumbling in spots, gravel-covered in others, and it was like running on marbles. Across the road, Quinn had taken off his sneakers and he soon caught up. Jack was hanging back to cover us.

I kept checking the GPS as I ran. We were closing the gap fast. Then Koss halted. I thought he'd just paused and I went another half block before realizing he'd stopped altogether. I put on the brakes and waved Quinn over.

"He's stopped," I whispered, pointing at the GPS. "Right around the next corner."

"You think he heard us?"

I shook my head. Jack was less than a block back, but I couldn't hear his footsteps.

"He see us?"

We were all dressed for a night mission--head to foot dark colors. It took a moment, but I could make out Jack's figure, even as he stuck close to the buildings. The streetlights were too bright to hide him.

"Maybe," I whispered. I checked the GPS. Still no movement.

"Got some alleys and service lanes here," Quinn said. "I'll take-- No, whoever's got the GPS should take the back way. I'll stick to the sidewalk."

I backtracked to the nearest alley. By then, Jack was close enough to jog over. I put my shoes on as I explained the plan.

As we walked, I kept checking the GPS. Koss was still just around the corner.

"In the building," Jack murmured.

I glanced over at him.

He pointed to the screen. "Not on the sidewalk. He's inside."

Jack was right. We were within a hu

ndred feet of the transmitter now, and Koss was too far from the street to be on the sidewalk.

I looked up. From the back, it was near impossible to tell what the building housed. I just saw brick and windows. Barred windows, all too high to peek through.

"Seems empty," Jack said.

I looked at him.

"Saw a real estate sign," he said. "Construction, too."

He'd taken a closer look at the building, which is what I should have done before ducking behind it.

"Can't be certain," Jack said.

But it made sense. We'd just left a building under renovations. If Koss wanted a place to hole up, and he saw lease and construction signs, he'd slip in there.

"Do you think he made us?" I whispered.