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Brandy watched, blinking. She hadn’t actually seen the suburban when Konrad chased Sara through the golf course, but she’d heard the description. Then, as she stood there staring, the little brown Volvo across the street eased into traffic and went trailing after the Suburban. Brandy instantly recognized the Volvo, and then she saw Sara Murphy in the driver’s seat.

Brandy dropped her drinks and ran for the car.

Brandy sat idling at the parking lot exit for a long time. Traffic on the Embarcadero was heavy and moving fast, and no one would make room for her. She rolled down her window and waved, flashed her headlights, and still the cars continued speeding by.

Brandy finally popped the clutched and screeched out into the street. She nearly caused an accident. The driver of the car she’d cut off started tailing her, honking his horn and flipping her off. Brandy tried to ignore the jerk as she slipped into the center lane, but he followed her there, too. The man seemed intent on a confrontation.

Brandy couldn’t see the Volvo or the Suburban anymore. They were well out of sight and she was caught in the flow of traffic. It was impossible to make any headway. She could have kicked herself for not paying more attention while she was in the Wolf House. Konrad had been there, and she hadn’t even seen him! Here she was trying to prove herself as an FBI agent and she’d missed a chance like that. She couldn’t blame the agency for having doubts about her. Even with luck on her side, Brandy had screwed up.

She wheeled through traffic, signals flaring, eyes roaming the road in both directions. Fate taunted her yet again as Brandy sped down the inside lane and out of nowhere, the Volvo suddenly appeared on the shoulder of the road to her right. She hit the brakes, but couldn’t merge over because traffic was too dense and moving too quickly. She had to drive to the next intersection and make a u-turn.

After several minutes, Brandy finally got back to where the Volvo was. She pulled off the road directly across the street. As she parked, Brandy hardly even noticed the faded blue Ford pulling up behind her. She got out of the car and turned to see a tall, thin man covered in tattoos rushing at her.

“You stupid bitch!” he shouted. His hands were balled into his fists and his eyes were wild with rage.

Brandy drew her weapon. “FBI, get on the ground!” she shouted.

The man screeched to a halt, practically tripping over his own feet. He almost went to the ground. He stood there, momentarily frozen. His eyes flickered wildly back and forth between Brandy’s face and the gun in her hands as. Then, he turned and ran just as fast as his long legs would carry him.

“Hey! Get back here!” Brandy took a few steps after him but the guy was moving too fast. She’d never catch him. Besides, she had other worries. Brandy reached into the man’s car and yanked his keys out of the ignition. She’d call the PD later and have the car towed, and then have the guy arrested for threatening a federal officer. Or maybe she’d just let him sweat it out. She hadn’t decided yet. She threw the keys in a mailbox a few yards down the sidewalk.

Brandy waded through traffic and finally made it over to the Volvo, but ultimately it was for naught. Sara Murphy and her companion were nowhere in sight. Brandy scanned the area. The parking lots along the wharf were packed, and Saturday afternoon traffic was still picking up. It looked like Sara Murphy had disappeared yet again.

Brandy wandered up and down the street, scanning the crowds along the beach and waiting, hoping that Sara would return to the car. Then, about fifteen minutes later, Brandy heard the gunshot. She was west of the Warehouse and across the street. She couldn’t pinpoint the gunshot’s origin, but she could tell the general direction.

She frowned. With Sara Murphy and Konrad both in the area, that was worrying. She hoped that gunshot hadn’t been the sound of Sara dying. She couldn’t possibly have guessed that Sara was still alive, but Konrad had just killed Brian.

Then came three more shots. A small cloud of dust rose from the shaking metal roof on the warehouse and suddenly Brandy knew just where to go. She stepped into the street and almost got run over. Traffic on the Embarcadero was flying. She waved her arms at the oncoming cars, but the drivers didn’t even slow down. They probably thought she was another San Francisco nut job high on drugs and wandering the streets.

She fought the temptation to pull her gun. Instead, Brandy raced a block up the sidewalk to the nearest crosswalk and hit the signal button. She waited anxiously for the light to change. Finally, the crosswalk lit up. Traffic came to a stop and she raced across the street. 

She headed for the door at the east corner of the warehouse. Instead of charging in, Brandy stepped around the corner and huddled down next to a Harley. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed Lee’s number. He answered on the third ring.

“Lee, it’s Brandy,” she whispered.

“Brandy? Are you home already?”

“No. I’m at the corner of Marina and Scott. Murphy’s here and I think Konrad, too. They’re holed up in a warehouse. I need backup, fast!”

As she hung up, Brandy heard the explosion of grinding metal at the front of the building. She peered around the corner, her jaw dropping as she watched the Suburban tear down the warehouse door and plow into traffic. A tall, dark-haired man was hanging from the rear doors of the SUV.
Konrad
, she thought. Did that mean Sara was driving?

Just then, the door next to her flew open and Stryker appeared. Brandy drew her Glock, but the assassin was way too fast. He struck out with his right hand and knocked the pistol out of her grip. It went clattering across the pavement. Jolts up pain went shooting up and down her arm.

Stryker struck out with a solid blow towards her face, but Brandy’s training kicked in and she leaned aside, dodging the blow. Stryker overextended his reach on the attack and Brandy took advantage by swinging her knee up and gouging him in the rib cage. Stryker grunted. He countered with a forearm to her jaw. Brandy danced back in a daze. Stryker took another swing at her, but it went wide. She snapped out with a jab that connected with Stryker’s chin.

His eyebrows went up. Brandy took a step back, trying to put a safe distance between them. She kicked out with a weak attack that was meant to draw him in for a second strike, but Stryker was too fast. Instead of lunging forward like she’d hoped, he twisted aside and lowered his center of gravity. He spun, sweeping Brandy’s leg out from under her.

She tumbled to the ground, smashing her head into the pavement as she landed. She rolled over in a daze and crawled to her knees. By the time she was back on her feet, Stryker was  already tearing out of the parking lot on his Hog.

Chapter 42

Sara panicked when she saw Konrad’s face appear behind the back seat. She hit the brakes and swerved hard. Konrad lost his grip and tumbled sideways. The rear doors were still open, swinging back and forth with the movement of the SUV. The rolling motion combined with the drugs still in her system caused Sara to almost black out. The vehicle swerved back across the lane, hammering the front end of an old Toyota. It bounced to the right and leapt the sidewalk, crashing into the side of a building.

Sara gripped the wheel and steadied herself. She saw Konrad tumbling around in the back, and she stepped on the gas, hoping he would roll out. He didn’t. A computer did, though. The box tumbled out and an old CRT computer monitor exploded across the street behind them.

Konrad pulled himself up to the seat and leapt over it. He came down between the rear and center seats. Sara saw this and she swerved again, yanking the wheel to the left and then hard right, all the while blinking against the fog in her vision. She smashed the brake pedal into the floor and then jumped on the accelerator. She did everything she could think of to slow Konrad down.

It occurred to her that her best bet might be to stop the Suburban and make a run for it. Would Konrad chase her on foot, in broad daylight? The man was a professional killer. He’d probably just shoot her in the back.

Then, as Konrad lunged up over the middle seat, Sara heard the crack of a gunshot. The rear-view mirror exploded and a long crack appeared in the windshield. She winced as chunks of glass sprayed across her face. She twisted around in the seat and saw Stryker right on their tail, shooting from the back of his Harley. Sara was almost glad to see him.

Konrad dropped back down between the seats. Sara bent forward, trying to keep her head out of the line of fire. Stryker took another shot, and the windshield turned into a sheet of white. Sara rolled her window down and stuck her head out so she could see the road.

She was frantic. She’d been doing everything she could to keep Konrad out of reach, but that game was almost over. Stryker’s gunfire had saved her momentarily, but he would probably just as soon shoot her as Konrad.

And that, she realized, was how she could escape. Just a few minutes ago, Stryker had been trying to kill Konrad. They’d been fighting for their lives. They’d already shown that they were more eager to kill each other than her. If she stopped, Sara might actually be able to make a run for it while they distracted each other. Her right foot slid from the accelerator to the brake.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Konrad. Sara felt the tip of a knife pressed into her rib cage. She glanced down to see Konrad propped up between the seats. “Just keep driving,” he said.

Sara glanced over her shoulder and saw the Harley behind them, drifting back and forth across the lane. Stryker had his gun up. He seemed to be waiting for Konrad to appear. “Where am I going?”

“Keep driving,” Konrad said. “North.”

They drove that way for about ten minutes. The road twisted around and headed northwest towards the Golden Gate Bridge. Sara kept waiting for further instructions, but Konrad said nothing. Finally, halfway across the bridge, Stryker made his move.

He throttled up and slid between the lanes, edging up alongside the Suburban. Sara glanced up just in time to see him appear on the passenger side of the Suburban. It was already too late for her to react.

In one swift motion, Stryker raised his gun and shot out the front tire. The Suburban careened to the left, and Stryker hit the brakes. He vanished as the Suburban twisted across the road and sideswiped a minivan. The van caved, folding around the front end of the suburban like a sheet of paper. The inertia of the crash sent the SUV spinning wildly. The Suburban did a three-sixty, hammering a sedan into the meridian as it finally stopped. Sara’s head slammed into the steering wheel.

At the moment of impact, Konrad lifted himself up to see what was happening. The crash threw him forward across the seat, and over the center console. He slammed into the dash and then dropped to the floor with a groan.

There was a strange moment of silence as the dust settled. The Suburban’s engine loped awkwardly and mist began to rise from under the hood. Sara’s head lolled; her ears were ringing from the crash and she was sickeningly dizzy. She rolled back against the seat, her head swaying left and right, bile churning in her stomach.

Sara hardly even noticed Konrad as he yanked on the passenger door handle and lumbered out, briefcase in hand. Sara blacked out for a few seconds. When her eyes fluttered open, she thought for a moment that she was dead. The vapors rising from the radiator were like a fog around the suburban, and the sweet acidy taste on her lips made her gag.

Sara heard grunting noises and the sound of ringing metal. She turned and saw Konrad and Stryker fighting behind the Suburban. Konrad wasn’t doing so good. In fact, he was getting his ass kicked. He took a hit to the face and dropped to the ground. Stryker lunged at him, but Konrad kicked out and Stryker danced back. Konrad twisted around and came up with a knife in his hand.

Sara noticed that the driver’s door was hanging open. It was bent in such a way that it would never close again. She crawled out and stumbled forward, heading north across the bridge. Faces peered at her from the nearby cars, but nobody moved to help her. They were all petrified, frozen with fear and shock as they watched the scene play out. They looked at her and then looked away. They pretended that they were invisible.

Sara made it five or six yards before she caught Stryker’s attention. The result was instantaneous. There was a whoosh of air and Sara felt the sharp, powerful impact of Stryker’s stiletto in her left shoulder. The blade pierced her leather jacket and plunged all the way through Sara’s body. The tip erupted out the front of her shoulder with a spray of blood.

Sara screamed and dropped to her knees. She instinctively reached for the thing but there was nothing to grab. Just an inch of razor-sharp blade protruding from her flesh.

Chapter 43

Stryker’s pause gave Konrad an opening to escape.

Stryker watched the blade hit home in Sara’s shoulder, and he smiled. Then he turned his attention back to Konrad just in time to see his adversary climbing across the center divide. Konrad had retrieved the briefcase from the side of the road and he was trying to make a getaway. Stryker leapt after him.

Tires squealed and cars veered sideways as Konrad lumbered across the southbound lanes. Stryker didn’t have any choice but to stand back until the drivers got their vehicles under control. By that time, Konrad was all the way across the lanes. As soon as he could move, Stryker went rushing after him.

Konrad stepped over the walkway and climbed the rail. He gave Stryker one last look before he jumped. Stryker got to the railing at the edge of the bridge just in time to see the splash. Konrad disappeared beneath the churning waters.

Sirens howled in the distance, but Stryker waited. A minute passed. Another. Konrad never appeared. Neither did the briefcase.

When he was satisfied, Stryker jogged back across the bridge and found Sara where he’d left her. She was dazed, struggling with shock and the haze of drugs and blood loss. He bent over and yanked his knife free. Sara cried out, but she didn’t move. Her eyes were dull, her expression blank as Stryker brought the knife to her throat.