TODAY

Cartagena, Colombia

Damien woke suddenly, Nasira's elbow catching him in the ribs. She was in the back seat, peering through a window with her night vision monocular. Damien was beside her, sitting so low that he'd fallen asleep. Driving in shifts through half of Central America would do that to you. Even with regular changeovers, they'd clocked thirty hours and seven vehicles before they'd even reached Colombia. Her latest steal was an old midnight blue Chevrolet sedan. Damien found the blue an odd choice but didn't comment. Until they figured out who'd flagged Jay's passport, they weren't going anywhere near an airport.

'They're here,' she said.

Damien rubbed his eyes and checked Nasira's phone. The GPS locator she'd fixed to the vessel was blinking close to the port. Their guess had been right, this port was where they were heading. He looked past the front seat and saw a large lumbering freight vessel approach the Colombian port of Cartagena.

He checked his watch. The sun would rise soon, but for now the bay was dark and still. On the other side, wafer-thin skyscrapers sparkled in the night.

'They have a bus ready?' Damien asked.

'Nothing yet,' she said.

Damien reached for a fresh bottle of water and slowly opened it. It fizzed, and he cursed. He'd purchased carbonated water by accident again because his Spanish was terrible.

Nasira kept her eye glued to the monocular. They waited for the vessel to dock.

She spoke quickly. 'Standby,' she said. 'I think I see the captives.'

She handed the monocular to him. He peered through and saw four armed guards in civilian clothes guiding two people with hands bound behind their back. They weren't blindfolded or hooded, but they looked sluggish, sedated.

'OK, I see two of them,' Damien said.

'Front seat. After me.'

Damien waited for her to wiggle forward, into the driver's seat, careful not to bump the wheel and hit the horn. Then he climbed through to the front passenger seat.

'I don't see a—'

'There it is,' Nasira said, looking over the dashboard.

She didn't point, but he could see she was watching a small silver van as it pulled up in front of a shipping crane mounted on rail tracks. The van's headlamps bathed Nasira's Chevrolet in blue-white light. Damien slid down, just in time to avoid the light catching his pale skin. In the driver's seat, Nasira slouched low.

Risking a glance over the dashboard, Damien counted two men in civilian clothes, armed with carbines and rifles, climb out of the van and wait.

Damien cracked his window open a fraction. The air was still warm and heavy, and he could smell the sea salt. Putting his enhanced hearing to good use, he listened as someone orders to put the two passengers in the van. The engine growled. Nasira flinched. She wanted to move but she couldn't just yet. Damien rolled up his window.

He held their last GPS tracker in his hand. 'I could try and sneak up, slap it on there.'

Nasira shook her head. 'I want you to tag them more than anyone. But if their security is half decent, you'll blow our chances.'

'I know, but if I pull it off, we can follow from a distance and then—'

'And then they get spooked, switch vehicles and we lose Jay forever,' Nasira said. 'No way.'

Damien nodded. 'Then we follow by eye.'

Nasira didn't respond. She waited in silence as the van drove right past them, oblivious to their presence. Damien remained in the footwell, knees to his chest, listening to the van recede into the distance. He heard Nasira counting to ten, before pulling herself back up and turning the screwdriver in the ignition. Lights off, she made a quick turn. Damien reached for the monocular.

Dawn was starting to break over the bay.

Nasira accelerated hard, catching the van as it slipped onto a busy highway. From there they tracked it for fifteen minutes before the traffic slimmed to two lanes and the highway became a one-way freeway. On either side there was paved stone for pedestrians. On the left, gleaming white condominiums and on the right, the stone walls of old town.

'Chute one of two,' Nasira said.

She reported the lane as chute, using the surveillance terminology they'd learned as recruits in Project GATE.

'Heading for the coast,' Damien said, watching the map on her phone. 'Or maybe Centro.'

The sky warmed orange. The Chevrolet's air conditioning wasn't working, and Damien's t-shirt was already damp under his arms. He could see beads of sweat collecting on Nasira's neck, under her coiled hair.

'Uh, we have a problem,' she said.

Damien looked over to see the van in chute one, the left-hand lane. It was two vehicles ahead of them and the traffic was starting to thin. But that wasn't the problem.

A white Renault 4x4 overtook Nasira and aimed for the van. In his side mirror, Damien caught sight of a second Renault. Their shared distinctive feature: very dark windows.

'Really contrasts against white, huh,' Nasira said.

'Subtle.' Damien reached down into the footwell. He opened the folding stock on his Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun.

'Count?' Nasira said, remaining calm.

Damien already knew. 'Thirteen rounds.'

She sighed. 'Pistol?'

It was tucked in his waistband with a new magazine. 'Ten.'

The foremost Renault accelerated.

'First Renault in front, chute two of two,' Nasira said.

Damien looked over to see a taxi push past, oblivious. 'Second Renault is behind us, chute one of two.'

It was still in the other lane. He watched in the side mirror as it crept forward, its front wheels lining with Nasira's rear. He knew why.

'Third vehicle, stacked two back,' Nasira said. 'I think they've seen us.'

Damien noticed a gunmetal gray Daewoo sedan with equally blackened windows.

Nasira tried to nose her way into the traffic ahead, only to be blocked by the front Renault. Both 4x4s were keeping her boxed in, at the speed they wanted. Damien gripped his UMP in both hands, low enough so no one could see. He wondered if the tinted glass was also bullet-resistant.

'They're going to spin us out,' Damien said.

Nasira growled. 'The hell they are.'

She hit the brake, dropping them back suddenly. The Renault overshot and their side crunched into Nasira's Chevrolet. Damien held on as they turned to the pavement. Nasira corrected it, keeping them in chute two.

The Renault lined up for another shot. Its front wheel drew level with her rear wheel. Nasira touched the brakes and let them overshoot. She slammed into the side of the Renault, striking its rear wheel. She accelerated into it.

Damien felt the crunch.

The Renault driver wasn't ready. He was already turning the wrong way and it was too late to correct his mistake. His rear wheels lost traction. Damien watched the 4x4 fishtail, then lose control in the high-speed traffic. It spun through the one-way freeway and smashed sidelong into a row of metal bollards.

Bong bong bong bong.

The Renault rolled over the bollards and went flying upside down. Glass and metal sheared off in fragments. The car landed on its roof and scraped across the freeway; Nasira jerked her Chevrolet into chute two, narrowly missing it. The Daewoo pulled in behind her, then lurched back into chute one.

Damien saw it. Nasira saw it. But it was too late.

The Daewoo clipped Nasira's rear wheel. She tried to counteract, pulled her wheel in the opposite direction. It wasn't enough. Damien braced himself, both hands on the dashboard. The Chevrolet fishtailed. They lurched sideways across the two lanes.

'Hold on,' Nasira said.

She flicked the wheel right, then left, slipped the stick into reverse.

The beaten up Chevrolet roared along the freeway, only now it was backward. Damien was face to face with the tinted windshield of the Daewoo. The sunroof slid open and a man with shiny long hair and imitation Ray-Bans emerged. He braced himself with widened elbows and aimed an AK-103 rifle.

Nasira's Chevrolet didn't have bullet-resistant windows.

She pumped the brakes. The Daewoo crunched into her. The shooter's elbows slipped and he smacked his head on the roof. Damien lined the UMP's sight and fired a burst through his windshield. The UMP was wonderfully accurate, each round catching the dazed man just below his throat. He slumped back into the Daewoo.

The driver accelerated, ramming Nasira's car. She couldn't match his speed. The Daewoo pushed them in reverse along the freeway.

'Let's see if their car is armored.' Damien squeezed off a round.

It punched a small hole through Nasira's windshield, but it hardly dented the enemy's.

'Armored.' Nasira grappled the steering wheel. 'Chute one of two.'

Damien knew that even a small movement from the Daewoo would spin them out of control. Her rucksack was slim enough to wear while sitting, so he slipped it over both shoulders. This ride wasn't going to last long.

'Get us out of here,' he said.

'Where?' Nasira yelled.

In the rear-view mirror, Damien could see the white condominiums parting to reveal wider ground. He hoped that would give them some options. There was a marina on one side and thick fort walls on the other. He checked the side mirror. The leading white Renault dropped back and rode beside them. All they needed to do was open fire and the rounds would snip through the Chevrolet like it was made of tin foil.

There was a large open plaza coming up on their left. It narrowed toward a clock tower. Underneath the tower were archways for pedestrians. Nasira saw it too. She accelerated suddenly, pushing the Chevrolet as hard as it would go in reverse. For a moment, her bumper separated from the Daewoo. She had the space. She turned the wheel sharply. Her Chevrolet peeled off, crossing to the next lane.

The Renault dropped back, poised to ram them as they made their escape. Through his side window, Damien saw the Renault's rear coming right for them.

Nasira kept her foot to the floor, bouncing them onto the paved plaza. The Renault came after them, swerving off the road and onto the pavement. Damien covered his face as the Renault screeched along his door, tearing off the side mirror. But they weren't quick enough to block Nasira's escape. She scraped through.

In their wake, the Daewoo overtook the Renault and accelerated across the plaza. She watched through the rear-view mirror and she hit her horn to scatter pedestrians.

'Faster,' Damien said through clenched teeth. 'Faster.'

Nasira tore the Chevrolet under the archway. It was barely wide enough but they scraped through, right into Cartagena's old town. She spun the car around, switching to second gear and accelerating again. The Daewoo crashed into Damien's door. It buckled from the impact and almost sent the Chevrolet straight through a shopfront. Damien felt dizzy.

'You OK?' Nasira yelled.

'Yeah.' Things moved past him in a sickening blur.

He patted himself down, checked for injuries. No blood. Nasira turned hard and plunged the car into a cobbled side street, sending locals scattering. Nasira weaved around taxis, riding up on the sidewalks. The Chevrolet's tires weren't going to hold up for much longer.

Damien peered in the rear-view and saw the Daewoo. It was momentarily caught behind a maneuvering truck.

Nasira gripped the steering wheel. 'This some crazy shit he got us into.'

'Who?' he mumbled, straightening up.

'Jay.' She almost choked on his name. 'We lost the van.' She hit the wheel with her fist. 'We lost the goddamn van.'

Colonial buildings streaked past in candy blue, orange, yellow, and aquamarine.

The white Renault 4x4 appeared on one side, moving like liquid under the sun.

'Shit,' Nasira said.

She accelerated, tearing from the side street into a large, open plaza. The Renault crashed into their rear and accelerated, pushing them forward.

Nasira wrestled the wheel, but the Chevrolet turned, turned some more. The Renault eased off for a moment, waited for them to expose their side, then rammed them. Nasira's Chevrolet skidded through tables and chairs toward a restaurant. Everything smeared around Damien as the car rolled onto one side. He hung from the side, his UMP falling past Nasira and clattering under her seat. The Renault's engine was a low growl, approaching. That wasn't encouraging. He pushed up at his door but it was jammed shut.

Beneath him, Nasira kicked out the windshield. It came off in one fractured sheet. She gripped her pistol, but before she could climb out, the Renault rammed the Chevrolet's underside. They both held on. The Chevrolet slid roof-first through the restaurant. Damien covered his face as metal screeched and glass shattered around him. The Renault finished its charge and backed off, probably so they could get out and open fire. An unarmored vehicle like Nasira's Chevrolet offered no protection against even small calibers.

Nasira was already out and running for the kitchen at the back of the restaurant. Damien had lost his UMP, but he still had the pistol and Nasira's rucksack on his back. He wedged the pistol farther down his waistband before climbing out into the restaurant. He landed on broken tables and flatware.

Gunfire erupted behind him, punching through the Chevrolet. Damien ran toward Nasira, through the kitchen and into another side street. Even in the shade, the air was warm. Nasira had stopped. The Daewoo with the tinted windows was barreling toward them. Nasira didn't hesitate for long. She sprinted right for it, then darted sideways into the open doors of a luxury hotel. Damien slipped in behind her.

He ran through a shimmering lobby, tracking Nasira into an open courtyard. She picked up a small marble statue on the way and held it against her as she pushed through a pair of spindly women in black skirts. Damien caught up with her and climbed the flight of stairs. He picked a front-facing room and sidestepped so Nasira could slam her statue down on the door handle. He pushed the door and ran through to the timber balcony.

'They're coming up now,' Nasira said.

'Which way?' Damien asked.

Without thinking, she pointed to their right.

Damien took the lead. The balconies ran seamlessly down part of the street, and he sprinted along them. He could hear Nasira's steps behind him, and shouts from the street below. There were three more balconies ahead, but no more. He took a running leap over the railing and landed on the next one. Nasira landed behind him.

'Stop!' she whispered.

He turned to face Nasira. Her copper skin was flushed red. Quietly, she pointed under their feet, then launched herself into the street below. She landed right on top of the Daewoo and aimed her pistol into the sunroof.

The gunshot echoed down the alley. The driver's head splashed the windshield.

'Well, that's one way of doing it,' Damien said.

A small yellow taxi slowed behind the Daewoo, its driver confused by the chaos. More cautious than Nasira, Damien hung from the lip of the balcony and dropped neatly onto its roof, sinking into a crouch to absorb the impact. He slid off and moved along the sidewalk, close to the wall. As he reached the hotel entrance, he drew his pistol.

A woman stepped out in front of him, an AK-103 in both hands, looking in the direction of the Daewoo. Right behind her, another armed man. They saw Nasira and raised their rifles. Damien kicked under her barrel, whipping it skyward. The rifle's iron sight smacked her in the nose. Damien drove his foot into her stomach. She fell back into her accomplice. They both dropped to the marble floor, entangled.

With his pistol, Damien shot the woman in the chest, then in the head. The man beneath her struggled to free his weapon. Damien closed the gap quickly and, with his knee, pinned his rifle to the floor. Damien kept his pistol on the survivor, but not too close.

'Who are you?' Damien asked in Spanish.

He repeated in English just to be sure.

The man didn't reply, but tried to shift from under the dead weight. Blood spread from the man's stomach. Damien didn't know whose blood, so had to act fast. He locked the man's elbow and levered it up. The man winced.

'Who are you?' Damien asked again.

The man stared at him, his chest rising and falling.

'Who do you work for?'

'No one,' he whispered in an American accent.

There was a white armband around the man's upper arm. The same armband those border control officers were wearing. Damien lifted the man's elbow higher, almost to breaking point.

The Daewoo reversed behind them. Damien turned to see Nasira now at the wheel.

'Why are you after us?' Damien said, his gun pressed into the man's head.

He could hear yelling in the distance, a vehicle accelerating.

'What do you want?' Damien shouted.

He managed a weak smile. 'You can't protect them.'

'Damien!' Nasira called from the Daewoo.

'Protect who?' Damien shouted.

The smile faded. 'Aberrations.'

'Don't make me leave your ass behind,' Nasira said.

Damien leaned in. 'What was your job?' he asked. 'Who do you think we are?'

The man's chest stopped moving. Damien swore and climbed into Nasira's new ride.

She hit the gas. 'Damien, if you're going to interrogate someone, the key is not to kill 'em first.'

***

Hey everyone,

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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<3
Nathan