Nowhere to Hide (8 page)

“We're hungry,” King said. “That's why. It's all about timing.”

“I'll show you timing,” MJ said. Which made no sense to King. But he figured he'd better laugh, or MJ would keep trying. So King laughed.

“That's better,” MJ said. “We going to eat soon?”

“Ellensburg,” Evans said. “We need to find a phone store. Lucas Thompson is going to run in and get a couple of smartphones.”

“Lucas Thompson?” MJ asked.

“One of my fully supported identifications,” Evans said. “We need Internet connection, and it would be stupid to use any of our own phones. Mundie would track us down in minutes.”

The mention of Mundie brought down the mood. For a moment, they'd forgotten that they were on the run from rogue CIA agents.

“While I'm getting the phones under the name of Lucas Thompson,” Evans said, “hopefully we'll see a place you guys can grab some fast food. King, dig some cash out of Mundie's wallet. Keep the receipts so we can reimburse the CIA when this is cleared up. And then—”

Evans stopped and turned up the volume on the radio. The announcer was speaking louder in an excited voice.

“…On the lookout for one black male adult and three white juvenile males. Wanted for a bank robbery attempt and a shooting of innocent bystanders during the robbery. They are traveling in a gray Dodge Charger, license number…”

King felt cold clutch at his heart as the announcer read the numbers. He didn't have to do it, but did it anyway. He reached into the glove compartment for the rental agreement and saw that the numbers matched.

“Once again,” the announcer said, “consider these wanted men to be armed and dangerous. If you see an adult black male and three white juveniles in a gray Dodge Charger with that license number, call the state police at this number. Do not approach the vehicle.”

The announcer began to give out the 800 number for the state police.

“What!” MJ shouted. “Blake, hit the floor so no one sees us!”

King saw them slide down and disappear from view. Their move attracted a look from a woman in a Volkswagen Jetta passing them in the left lane. She looked again, and then a weird look of comprehension filled her face.

Great
, King thought. His throat began to tighten. But this was natural fear, not the beginning of a full-blown panic attack.

Evans spoke calmly. “I was afraid Mundie might do something like that. But I didn't want you guys to have to worry about it until it actually happened.”

“I'm plenty worried now,” MJ said from the floor of the backseat.

King noticed that the woman in the Jetta had grabbed her cell phone. But that was the least of his worries. He also noticed that the black Escalade had closed the gap.

“Evans,” King said, trying to keep his voice as calm as Evans' had been, “you see the Escalade behind us, right?”

“And the flashing lights,” Evans answered.

Sure enough, the Escalade had a light bar inside the interior, and it was now flashing red and blue. The headlights alternated on and off, adding to the visibility of the pursuing vehicle.

“Hang on,” Evans said. “This could get dicey.”

He floored the accelerator and roared past the woman in the Jetta, with the Escalade roaring to keep up.

CHAPTER 17

Thirty seconds later, a sign indicated an exit a half mile ahead. With the speedometer pushing 90, and rushing past the few cars that were in the right lane, Evans eased off on the gas and put on his signal light to exit.

“This is not smart,” Evans said. He moved into the right lane. “I've never been a fan of high-speed pursuits, and I don't want to see anyone get hurt.”

Blake and MJ were sitting up again. There was no need to hide from the cops when one was directly behind them, siren now wailing.

“I don't want to see anyone hurt either,” MJ said. “So go faster. If we get pulled over and thrown in jail, my mom is going to put some serious hurt on me.”

“That woman in the Jetta,” Evans said to King, ignoring MJ's plea, “the one who looked like she was calling us in—did she put her cell phone down?”

King glanced across Evans through the driver's side window and caught the woman staring at them with happy excitement on her face as she began to pass them again.

“Phone down,” King said. “She looked smug, like she's glad a cop got us.”

“Excellent,” Evans said. “She was a witness I thought could get us in trouble.”

The exit came up fast. Evans took the off-ramp, reaching the stop sign at a crossroad. The right-hand turn would take them on a straight road, leading toward flat, open fields with irrigation systems. Left, it crossed back over the interstate and wound upward into some hills, disappearing around a curve about a quarter mile away.

King craned his head to look behind them. The Escalade was directly on their bumper.

Instead of pulling over onto the shoulder, however, Evans paused briefly at the stop sign to make sure it was clear of cross traffic and then turned left and accelerated gradually toward the hills.

“Any other witnesses on the interstate are long past us now,” Evans said. “Time to hide.”

He gunned it again with the Escalade in pursuit.

“Dude,” MJ said. “You rock! Thank you! Thank you! You have no idea how scary my mom can be.”

Blake put his hands over his face.

King kept an eye on the Escalade. He was surprised to see the flashing lights shut down. Same with the alternating headlights.

He was also surprised when Evans stopped his acceleration at the speed limit.

From there, the pursuit was leisurely. The Escalade kept a healthy distance and maintained the same speed as Evans as both vehicles followed the contours of the land on the winding road. As they ascended, more and more trees began to fill in the open areas.

“Um,” King said, “isn't it a safe assumption that this guy is radioing for backup?”

“Huh,” Evans said. “That was a polite way of suggesting I need to think this through, wasn't it.”

“Yeah,” King said. “It was.”

Evans kept driving.

“No other response to my polite suggestion?” King said.

“Sure,” Evans said. “Keep your eyes open for a good spot to ditch
this vehicle. We need a turnoff with lots of trees to screen the car from the road. When we abandon it, we don't want it found for a while.”

“Um, just as a polite suggestion,” MJ said, “I'd like to point out that if you expect us to dash out of the car and outrun this guy, his bullets will be faster than my feet.”

Evans chuckled. “Good point, MJ. Let's try this instead. After I stop, you get out of the car, go to his window, and politely ask if we could get a ride back to the interstate and on to Ellensburg. Point out that the four of us need to get some throwaway cell phones and some food.”

“Good one, sir,” MJ said.

“Or,” Evans said, “maybe I could try a knock-knock joke.”

MJ began to moan. “My mom is going to kill me.”

“There,” King said to Evans, pointing ahead. “To the right. Dirt road with trees on both sides.”

“Perfect.” Evans began to slow. He signaled for the turn.

“Seriously?” MJ said. “A turn signal?”

King glanced back. The Escalade slowed and put on a right-hand signal light as well.

Evans turned onto the dirt road. He drove slowly with branches and weeds reaching out from both sides of the dirt road. The Escalade followed but didn't close the distance until Evans stopped a minute down the dirt road.

Evans hit the power button to roll down his window and shut off the engine. The Escalade stopped at their back bumper.

A cheerful sound of chirping birds reached the interior of the car when the motor of the Escalade shut down.

“We're trapped,” MJ said. “And I may have just peed myself.”

A tall man wearing jeans, a jean jacket, and a cowboy hat stepped out of the Escalade. He reached the car and peered through the driver's window at everyone inside. The man's face was thin. He had a graying mustache. Looked like a sheriff from an old Western. He had a weathered face, and spiderwebs of wrinkles showed he was probably ten years older than Evans.

“I have reason to believe that this car and you people are wanted for an armed bank robbery,” Sheriff Guy said. “One black adult male and three white juveniles, if the report is correct. Vehicle and license plate also match the description. Perhaps you could all get out of the vehicle?”

“Knock-knock,” Evans said.

“Pardon me?” Sheriff Guy said.

“Take me away,” MJ said to no one in particular. “Please. Just get this over with and take me away now.”

“The kid in the backseat loves knock-knock jokes, so I thought I'd treat you to one,” Evans said to Sheriff Guy. Patient in tone. “Knock, knock.”

“Okay,” Sheriff Guy answered. “Who's there?”

“Police,” Evans said.

“Police who?”

“Police give us a ride into town,” Evans said. “We need some cell phones, and the boys here are hungry.”

MJ bent over and shoved his right hand into his mouth to keep himself from screaming in anguish.

Sheriff Guy looked at MJ and said, “Hey, the joke wasn't that bad.”

Then Sheriff Guy looked at Evans. “Think this is my first rodeo? I already picked up some throwaway cell phones, and I also packed a picnic basket with food for a couple days. So how about we get this show on the road?”

CHAPTER 18

The Escalade had three rows of seats, but the third row, in the back, was flat because the rear compartment was filled with what looked to King like metal detectors. As he slid into the middle row with MJ and Blake, he did a quick count.

Five.

Five metal detectors. Dull army green. Long handles, circles at the bottom.

King didn't have a chance to ask about them because Evans clicked on his seat belt in the front passenger seat and spoke as Sheriff Guy began to reverse the vehicle. “This is my friend Bill Moore. We were on a SEAL team together a long time ago. He went his way and joined a security detail for the state governor. I was recruited by the CIA for Special Ops. Bill's one of the best, and he's got our back.”

King was on the driver's side of the middle row. Blake was in the middle because he was the smallest, and MJ was directly behind Evans.

MJ said, “Might have been nice to know that earlier. You know, about the time he turned on the flashing lights and before I peed my pants?”

King was glad MJ hadn't really peed his pants. But he understood the sentiment.

“Bad habit for which I apologize,” Evans said. “Secrets are currency in the intelligence community. Doesn't take much time in the business before you start parceling out information on a need-to-know basis.”

MJ began, “I would have needed to know he was a good guy. That could have prevented some serious scare on my part.”

Evans laughed. He obviously liked MJ. “And unfortunately, I'm the one deciding what's need-to-know.”

“Like when you called Mr. Moore at the service station without telling us?” King asked Evans. Evans had apologized for needing a bathroom break about fifteen minutes into the trip.

Moore spoke up. “Call me Moore. Not Mr. Moore, okay? Everyone calls me Moore. It throws me off to hear the ‘Mister.' ”

“Told you they're sharp,” Evans said to Moore. “King knew we had all our cell phones shut down, so there was only one place and time I could have reached you—when I made an excuse to stop at a truck stop.”

That's exactly what King had decided. No way could Evans have foreseen the morning's events and set this up before Mundie took King off McNeil Island.

“Keep going,” Evans told King. “I use a pay phone at the back of the truck stop…”

“You tell him what we're driving and where we're headed,” King said. “I'm guessing Mr.…I'm guessing Moore must have been in Seattle when you reached him. That would have given him a straight, short run east on I-90 while we were coming up the longer way from Tacoma on Highway 18.”

“I made it to Price Creek Rest Area at mile marker 61, just east of Snoqualmie Pass,” Moore said. “I parked on the exit ramp going in. If Evans didn't see me there, the backup was for him to take another rest stop and delay till I showed up.”

“King picked you up almost right away when you got back on the interstate,” Evans said to Moore. “Maybe you need to take a refresher course on tailing targets.”

“Humph,” Moore said.

“You were anticipating that Mundie might actually call in law enforcement to look for us, right?” King asked Evans. “That's why you kept the news radio on?”