Scare him in a way he wasn’t expecting.
‘I have a confession,’ he said.
Wu glanced at him. ‘What?’
‘I’m not going with you.’ Luke threw open the Navigator’s door. At sixty miles an hour.
‘What the hell?’ Wu yelled. ‘Get the hell back in here.’
Luke stood in the open doorway, firming a grip on the Navigator’s roof.
Wu wasn’t slowing down.
Luke hoisted himself onto the car’s roof just as Wu veered across the lanes of traffic, horn blaring as he made for the highway exit. ‘Are you crazy?’ Wu screamed.
He was forcing his hand, at huge risk. He could not fight Wu without crashing the car; and he needed the Navigator. He just needed Wu lured out of it, and he didn’t have time to wait for Wu to get him to a safe house. He had to move now.
The car veered without slowing, and Wu swerved to avoid another car and the swerve nearly threw Luke from the speeding Navigator.
The Navigator careened toward the shoulder, which was all railing rushing by as the driver sped toward an exit.
They kissed the railing, sparks showering from metal biting against metal, erupting past Luke. The roaring of a honking semi tore within ten feet of them. Wu veered hard, taking the next exit, which was in downtown Chicago.
The car peeled through a red light.
He’s not slowing? Why? Because, dummy, he needs the speed. To toss you off. You’ve pissed him off. And he needs you unable to fight.
Wu aimed the careening Navigator toward the parking lot of a convenience store and as he crossed into the lot he slammed hard on the brakes. But Luke timed Wu’s approach toward the building, and slid back in the car through the open window as Wu jammed the brakes.
The brake slam threw Luke into the front seats, landing him on Wu’s head and sending him crashing into the front windshield, which buckled and cracked. But the force of his body hammered Wu into the steering wheel.
The car skidded to a stop.
Luke, dazed, bleeding from the back of his head, slid onto Wu, fumbled for the gun under the jacket. His fingers found it and he yanked it free as Wu struggled to grasp the weapon himself.
Luke put the gun to Wu’s temple. Wu went very still.
‘Stop! Out! Leave the keys in the ignition,’ Luke ordered.
‘You won’t shoot me,’ Wu said.
Luke moved the gun to the side an inch and fired. The bullet shattered the driver’s window. ‘Yes, I will.’
Wu stepped out of the Navigator. ‘You’re a suicidal idiot.’
‘Yeah,’ Luke said. ‘I’m just one guy.’ Luke kept the gun aimed at him, slid behind the wheel and roared off, the wind hard in his face.
56
Luke knew he’d be a cop magnet, driving with a shattered windshield.
But he had to risk it. If a cop pulled him over he would tell everything he knew. He’d given Wu information that could stop the attack, even if he couldn’t. Calling the police now would take too much time, involve too much explanation – they might not believe him. He was wanted in connection with the death of a Chicago cop. And the Night Road could meet and vanish, carrying their deadly cargoes to the target cities.
He had to act. Now.
I’m just one guy. Wu’s words. But one guy could make a difference in fighting the worst impulses of humanity.
Which was exactly what Mouser and the rest of the Night Road represented. Take away choices, take away security, and replace it with a twisted, bitter view of the world they thought best. It was the common thread linking the ideologies of the various fringes in the Night Road. They wanted the strength they would get – that they could only get – from creating a grave and constant terror that undermined everyday life.
He pulled back into the road and headed for Aubrey’s export/import business.
The meeting place for Hellfire was a small, sad, decrepit strip mall south of downtown. The night was cool and foggy and traffic was light the farther Luke drove from the freeway. He drove past the strip mall and saw a sign: PERRAULT IMPORTS. Aubrey’s company.
Eric – or Henry – had set up her office space as the departure point for the bombs. It made sense. An export/import company would not raise eyes by having a number of vans arriving and departing at odd times. Frequent deliveries would be seen as a part of that kind of business by any curious neighbors.
It made him feel sick, Aubrey pulled into Eric’s world and used this way. Even if Eric had developed real regard for her, he had hijacked her life into the darkness – just as Henry had hijacked his.
He parked the Navigator behind a closed strip mall down the street. Few streetlights dotted the road. He opened his door, checked the clip in Wu’s gun. There was a silencer mounted on the end – he’d never fired a gun with one before. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants.
He had the vaguest shape of a plan in his mind, but it depended on whether his father and Aubrey were being held at the office. He thought they would be. If they weren’t, then he didn’t have to worry about getting them out. If they were – he would face a choice. A hard one. Hellfire had to be stopped, no matter what.
No matter the cost.
He crossed the road. Aubrey’s import emporium was the anchor at one end of the mall; the other stores belonged to an accountant and tax preparer; a women’s clothing store; a nail and hair salon; a liquor store. Everyday America.
He could see six small moving vans parked in front of Perrault Imports. All from the same rental company.
He walked toward the vans and twenty feet away from the first one a shadow stepped out from between them.
A guard. He was skinny and looked scared and wasn’t much older than Luke. ‘Hi,’ Luke said. ‘I’m here to see Mouser. I’m late, sorry.’
The guard said. ‘Password?’
He prayed the password Henry gave him hadn’t been changed. ‘Determination.’
The guard nodded.
‘I got orders to come here and get a van,’ Luke said.
‘You walked?’
‘I wanted to be sure cops weren’t here. I look less suspicious walking than driving.’ He stopped now, five feet from the guard.
‘Come here, put your hands on the side of the van. Everybody’s got to be frisked.’
He stepped close to Luke and Luke thought that’s the kind of mistake I would have made. Luke hit him hard, once in the face, and then pistol-whipped him with the gun. The guard collapsed, unconscious. He didn’t need to use a bullet.
Luke searched the guard’s clothing. He found keys with the van rental agency tag on it. He tried the door of the nearest van. Locked. He tried the one next to it. The door opened.
The van was empty. Which meant that some of the bombs, at least, were still inside. He pulled the guard into the van, left him there. Luke figured either he would have won or would be dead by the time the guard was awake.
He tried the passkey he’d taken from Henry. The door clicked open.
The first floor was the wholesale showroom and delivery area. It was stuffed with decor, a melange that showed just how small the world was getting. He made his way through a maze of cheap reproductions of African masks and wooden fertility symbols, Chinese lanterns and Asian-inspired furniture, stacks of china from eastern Europe. A stairway with a bright orange arrow reading MORE BARGAINS UPSTAIRS. He came to the bottom of the stairs and heard voices.
He thought. The bombs would have been delivered here, since Snow could not distribute them from Houston. Chicago was central. But where would they be kept? Presumably the store had not been open with Aubrey gone, or she might have told her employees she was closing down if told to by Eric. Aubrey had not mentioned a staff. The bombs would have to be kept where they would not elicit surprise or alarm if found.
He headed toward the back storage area. Boxes were stacked high in the dim light.