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“Sorry son. Damn, that helicopter is close now! Give it back. I’m getting more video.”

William let him take it, seeing the exit ramp to the interstate quickly approaching. The rearview mirror showed headlights coming up fast behind them. The height and spacing of the lights suggested the news crew was in a van.

He pulled onto the exit, watching as the helicopter continued to trail them. There was nothing coming over a loudspeaker with commands to stop. That’s what police would be doing right now.

“Who the hell is that behind us?” Quincy asked. “They’re getting so close they’re gonna block my shot.”

“They came from the trailer.”

“Well, reporters can’t follow us where we’re going. You’re heading to the airport, right? If you can call that Tinkertoy setup an airport.”

And you’re getting shoved out of the car at the terminal, and Lily will be dropped off in the closest crowd. Then I’m gone.

“The Cessna is parked on the private strips. Don’t go to the main terminal. You know where the private planes land, right?”

No. I don’t fly in private jets. This guy is a perfect addition to this crapshow of a twenty-four hours. You’ll have to walk to your jet, if it even exists, from where I dump you off—

Wait. The reporters in that van. The news crew won’t leave a kid stranded on the road.

“I think I’ve seen a sign for a private strip near the airport,” William said. Keep thinking that’s where we’re headed. I need this car.

“OK. I know there’s a basically an AH-64 Apache on our ass, but we need a McDonald’s in the worst way to drop her off. She is not part of this deal.”

“There is no deal,” William snapped.

“I don’t know what happened back there, but I am seriously freaked out. Drop her off and she can order a Big Mac and call her parents.”

“I don’t know…” William looked to the back seat and Lily’s frightened face. His voice quieted. “I don’t know if she even has parents.”

“I get it. You’re sensitive to kids in peril. But she scares the hell out of me. Hey, the airport is coming up. Once we get there, we’re out of here.”

“I see it,” William said, seeing the one-mile sign for the airport. But I’ll be leaving here solo.

He’d have to act fast once they got off at the exit. There would be a sudden stop at the entrance road to the airport, and if he was lucky, the helicopter would have to circle around and buy him a few seconds.

He’d walk out and wave the reporters over. Quincy would get out in frustration, and William would help Lily out of the back seat. Once they were away from the car, he could sprint back and be gone fast—

“Hey asshole, we see you! Back off!” Quincy yelled, motioning to a large gray van that had pulled up alongside them. William realized that the headlights in the rearview mirror were gone, and the van had moved into the other lane.

The window rolled down. Even in the dim light, it was clear the van was several decades old. A bald man was waving frantically, motioning them to get off the road.

“You sure can attract them,” Quincy said. “You’re like a crazy magnet.”

William rubbed his forehead as he exited the interstate. The Porsche’s engine easily allowed him to shoot past the van. So much for ditching them with surprised reporters.

“They’re freelancers, probably. Or just another nutso just wanting an autograph,” Quincy said. “Hey, the helicopter is pulling back. They know they can’t fly in this restricted airspace.”

Look for a bus stop. Get him out of this car. Then find a place for Lily. Move. Move. Who knows how long the helicopter will hold off—

“Hey, turn left. That sign points to the private airstrip. I’ll call and tell them we’re coming.”

It’s not even six in the morning. He could dump Quincy there easily.

“Crap. I can’t make a call either. Must be my phone. Good thing I paid two million for the patent. But my guys know to be waiting for us. My security team is there too, just in case crazy town in the van decides to try and join the party. And that’s one thing a helicopter can’t keep up with: a jet.”

“Is there private security at the gate?” Drop them off there and throw it in reverse.

“That’s why you fly private. No one to ask any questions. OK, there’s an open gate. Nice. Ok, see it? See it there? It’s got the big Q on it. That’s it.”

William did a double take. There, sitting among a few smaller planes on the mostly barren runway, was an enormous Cessna with a giant “Q” painted on its side in a bold red swirl.

“Who the hell are you?” William asked.

The man in the passenger seat grinned. “Just a man who believes, Mr. Chance.”

Drive up, act like you’re getting out, and once he’s out of the car, drive away. You can find another place to leave Lily.

“And as I expected,” Quincy said, looking over his shoulder. “Creeper Van is following us in. So just pull up right to the plane and get inside as fast as you can. I’d call my security again, but obviously my deep financial investment in this certain model of phone has a major flaw. But don’t think this isn’t worth your time, I’ll get the bugs worked out. You’ll want to be on board for this new model. Wait till you see what it can do. Just so you know, I’m packing, but it’s just a pistol. Once my guys see me whip it out, they’ll do the same. No one in that van will think about stopping… wait… wait…”

“What is it?” William asked, hearing the change in Quincy’s voice.

As they drove up to the Cessna, they saw men standing on the stairs leading to the door.

“My guys don’t wear suits,” Quincy said.

As William slammed on the brakes, the men began to run in their direction.

“They’re on my damn plane!”

William saw it, then: the landing skids of a helicopter on the other side.

“Turn around, turn around!” Quincy yelled.

William attempted a U-turn as the now-familiar sound of whizzing and popping resounded outside the car. The Porsche lurched perilously to one side.

“Drive on the rims if you have to!” Quincy yelled.

William grabbed the back of Quincy’s headrest to back up, only to slam on the brakes.

“What are you doing—” Quincy began.

Through the rear window William could see another black helicopter landing, its tail blocking the entrance through the gate.

“Oh shit,” he whispered.

The gray van, which had obviously hesitated as the men in suits rushed from the plane, now bounded across the pavement to drive up directly beside the Porsche.

The passenger side door opened, and a man wearing a ski mask jumped out, carrying a long rifle.

“Aw, come on!” Quincy said, fumbling for his glove compartment. “Who is that?”

The man in the mask yanked William’s door open, motioning with the barrel. “Unless you want to disappear forever, move your ass. Get in the van.”

“What the hell is this?” William asked. Through the windshield, he could see the men in suits were now halfway between the plane and the van.

“Now!” the man yelled, prodding him in the shoulder.

“OK, OK,” William held up his hands, sliding out. Lily scrambled across her seat and opened her door.

“Lily, don’t—”

“Everyone get out of the damn car!” the man yelled. “And drop the pistol, sir. It won’t do you much good against a semiautomatic.”

“Screw you, man,” Quincy yelled. “I’m not—”