Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3) (2 page)

Nathan looked both directions and saw something to his right. Two blocks north, a black SUV made a screeching illegal U-turn. He focused on the vehicle as it approached from the north, heading to the light at Torrey Pines. Someone behind him honked, an annoying
beep
. He ignored it and studied the Cadillac Escalade as it sped past. The male driver had been trying to make the green light at Torrey Pines, but the car in front him had stopped at the yellow. A girl sat in the passenger seat, and she appeared to be fairly young.

Nathan cut off a Lexus and accelerated to the same illegal U-turn location. In a somewhat reckless move, he whipped his Mustang around and ended up about ten cars behind the SUV. From this position, he shouldn’t have any trouble staying with it.

He considered calling Harv and bringing him up to speed, but dismissed the thought. His friend was on vacation on the other side of the world, and this would only alarm him pointlessly. Depending on how ugly this turned, though, he’d have to get in touch with Harv soon.

After the light changed, the Escalade gained some separation, but he couldn’t do much about it. From its current lane, the Escalade could peel left to stay on Torrey Pines or continue straight onto eastbound La Jolla Parkway. Ten seconds later, he had his answer. It went straight, heading for the intersection of I-5 and Highway 52. Without making abrupt lane changes, he closed the gap and settled into a slot five cars back.

Nathan thought about the texts the girl had sent. The man had grabbed her cell phone midcall, that much was obvious, and if he’d taken a minute to scroll through her messages he would’ve seen her reference to a black SUV at the La Jolla Shores Exxon. If so, the driver might be looking for a tail. But even if the driver had looked at the messages, he might not have thought anyone could get to the Exxon in time. There was no way to gauge the driver’s level of situational awareness, so for now Nathan would play it safe and observe from a distance.

At the top of the grade, the Escalade continued east and merged into the flow of Highway 52. Nathan kept the same margin until he saw an opportunity to make a move. If the driver suspected he was being followed, Nathan would know soon enough. He eased into the right lane and passed a few cars. The motorcycle in front of him moved over to exit the freeway, which left his lane clear. He closed the distance, paralleled the Escalade, and glanced left.

Now that he had a closer look, he guessed the girl’s age to be twelve, plus or minus a year.

The girl looked at him, and for the briefest instant, he sensed recognition on her face. She mouthed four words in an exaggerated manner.

Kidnapped, please help me.

Nathan learned to read lips long ago, and there was no mistaking what he’d just seen. He felt his body tighten and loosened his grip on the steering wheel. This was unquestionably the black SUV from the texts. Everything fit. Instinctively, Nathan committed the girl’s face to memory. She looked Eurasian, with strong cheekbones and a few freckles. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

He glanced at his speedometer — seventy miles per hour — and eased off the gas. The Escalade advanced into his ten o’clock position. At least the eastbound lanes on Highway 52 weren’t heavy with traffic. Rush hour had already come and gone.

Nathan retrieved a small notepad and pen from the glove compartment and assessed the ambient light. Not great. Most of the vehicles had their headlights on as the final traces of twilight stretched across San Diego. He wondered if the girl would be able to read his note. He thought so. Kids tended to have sharp vision.

Holding the notepad against the steering wheel, he wrote two words in large block letters: ECHO FIVE.

Nathan pulled forward again but kept his driver’s-side window just shy of the Escalade’s passenger window. If this girl truly was in trouble, he didn’t want the driver to see the note. He hugged the left side of his lane and brought the note up, keeping it low in his window.

The girl looked over, and this time there was no doubt. Her expression told all.

Nathan nodded and fell back again, faking the appearance of a distracted driver who couldn’t decide how fast he wanted to go. To complete the act, he grabbed his cell phone and brought it up to his ear.

Now what?

He’d just received a desperate plea for help from a kidnapped girl whose mother clearly had classified information. Some big questions needed answers. He inched forward again, matched the SUV’s speed, and looked left. The girl’s expression worsened and she mouthed,
No police. Please, no police.

No police? What did she mean by that? If she was being kidnapped, why wouldn’t she want the police involved?

He dropped back into the Escalade’s blind spot.

Options began forming. Should he follow the Escalade and call the police anyway?

Nathan looked at his gas gauge: less than a quarter tank.

His SIG SAUER P226 and Predator knife were in the emergency travel bag, but engaging an unknown adversary in gun or knife play didn’t seem like a solid option. And there could be more than one kidnapper involved, or more children. The tinted rear windows of the Escalade hid any occupants. If there
were
additional people back there, they might’ve seen the notes. Nathan supposed the closeness of the two side-by-side vehicles, combined with the fading light, could’ve made it difficult for anyone sitting in the back to see, but he wasn’t sure. Strike that. If anyone were seated behind the girl, they definitely would’ve seen the notes. Since the kidnapper hadn’t changed speed or done anything out of the ordinary, Nathan believed no one else rode in back.

He felt naked in his Mustang. His six-foot-five frame barely fit into the custom seat he’d installed and his windows weren’t tinted. He needed to turn disadvantage into an advantage, but how? How did being visually unprotected become an asset? His cell phone. He’d pretend to be texting against the steering wheel and drift into the Escalade. Just a bump. Nothing serious, but enough to warrant an exchange of insurance information. But what if the driver overreacted and lost control? The Escalade might roll, or cause a multivehicle accident. And what would happen if it didn’t stop? What if it sped away? Nathan didn’t want to endanger innocent people by engaging in a high-speed pursuit.

He needed more information and decided to risk another exchange. All he’d gleaned at the Exxon station was the image of a clean-shaven man with short dark hair and a pronounced chin who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He also appeared to be wearing a business suit. How many kidnappers wore business suits?

Assuming the girl could respond only one more time, he’d ask a tactical yes-or-no question. He wrote a new note, inched forward, and waited until he was just ahead of her window so she wouldn’t have to turn her head as far. Riskier, though — from this position, the driver might be able see it. Without looking over, Nathan brought the pad up and held it low against his window. After several seconds, he lowered the note and glanced left. Keeping her head straight, the girl offered a barely perceptible nod. Whoever this child was, she was poised and smart. Nathan dropped back and thought about the question he’d just asked.

JUST YOU + DRIVER?

Answer: yes.

The big question returned. Now what?

The I-805 interchange was just ahead, and the kidnapper moved into the right lane. Nathan opened up some distance and followed the Escalade up the sweeping onramp. He began to feel a building pressure to do something. Come on, Nate. Think. What are you going to do? Taking the wrong course of action could backfire and cause more harm than good. Patience, he told himself. Sometimes no action was the best action. As long as he kept the Escalade in sight, he had options. On the other hand, it would take multiple assets to tail a vehicle effectively through surface streets. If the driver possessed countersurveillance training, he’d likely initiate a surveillance detection route. And if he did that, Nathan couldn’t avoid being discovered. A single asset couldn’t beat a properly executed SDR.

Ahead on the freeway, something caught Nathan’s attention: the Amber Alert sign at Clairemont Mesa Boulevard displayed three bright lines of text. Set against the cobalt sky, the message demanded to be seen:

CHILD ABDUCTION

BLACK SUV

CA LICENSE UNKNOWN

There were few times when Nathan experienced a chill, but this was one of them. He moved over a lane to the west and slowly inched forward. The girl was no longer visible. The driver must’ve seen the Amber Alert and ordered her to crouch down.

The complexity and risk of his situation had just skyrocketed. Ironically, the Amber Alert hindered his efforts. Anything he did to interdict, even an “accidental” fender bender, would no longer be interpreted as a coincidence. The smallest act out of the ordinary would raise red flags with the kidnapper. On the flip side, the alert reaffirmed the immediate danger to the girl, and he now felt confident that any action he took would be justified.

The Escalade changed lanes and slowed to sixty-five. Several car lengths back, Nathan matched its pace as it made an additional lane change. The SUV was now directly in front of him. Anticipating the driver’s next move, he eased into the slow lane, checked his rearview mirror, and dropped back farther.

As predicted, the kidnapper signaled and moved into the exit-only lane. He obviously wanted off this freeway, probably because there weren’t any Amber Alert signs on surface streets. The center-divide sign indicated the Balboa Avenue exit lay one-quarter mile ahead. Nathan maintained his distance as the Escalade slowed to fifty-five. Would the driver go east or west on Balboa? Playing it safe, Nathan didn’t use his turn signal. The Escalade peeled right, heading for the westbound lanes.

At the traffic light, Nathan ended up directly behind the Escalade, a mere ten feet away. Okay, he told himself, there’s a kidnapped girl named Lauren in the Escalade, and the Amber Alert system’s activated. The kidnapper’s edgy, wondering if anyone saw the girl and dropped a dime.

If Nathan were driving that Escalade, he’d execute an SDR, but he doubted many people had his level of countersurveillance training. If the abductor planned to try one, it would probably happen within the next mile or so. At least Nathan had the speed and maneuverability advantage. If this turned into a high-speed chase, the Cadillac could never outrun his Mustang.

At Genesee Avenue, the Escalade moved into the inside, left-turn-only lane and stopped at the red light. Nathan maintained a single-car buffer between himself and the target. Several vehicles had lined up in front of the SUV, also waiting for the light to change.

What do most kidnappers want? Privacy. If this were a ransom, the abductor would want seclusion, at least initially. The same would apply to an abductor bent on committing a sex crime. But what if this involved something else altogether? Something related to the mother who knew Nathan’s former CIA call sign, who’d also taught her daughter operative code words? In that case, the kidnapper could be headed to a predetermined location to make a vehicle switch. He could have accomplices. Fellow professionals. But no professional would allow his victim to keep or use a cell phone.

Assuming the kidnapper didn’t execute an SDR, he figured he could only keep this tail going for ten to fifteen minutes before being spotted.

The left-turn arrow at Genesee turned green, and the dual column of cars started forward. From this inside lane, the SUV could make a U-turn. If it did that, there was a good chance the U-turn was one of many to come designed to expose a tail. Nathan felt some measure of relief when the Escalade settled into the right lane of Genesee.

He pictured this area of San Diego in his mind. Assuming freeways were out of the equation, staying on major surface streets would be the fastest way to the kidnapper’s destination, but doing that also ran the highest risk of crossing paths with an SDPD cruiser. Nathan didn’t know for sure but believed Amber Alerts were broadcast to all law enforcement units within a certain radius of the abduction, which meant every cop in the area would now have the info. Unfortunately, in a city this size, there were literally hundreds, if not thousands, of black SUVs on the road at any given time. Would police start randomly pulling over black SUVs? He wasn’t sure.

Genesee Avenue started down into a branch of Tecolote Canyon, where it would cross only a couple of roads before reaching Linda Vista. Nathan increased his separation to five hundred yards and accelerated to fifty miles per hour to stay with the Escalade. He decided to up the stakes. Since the kidnapper had been going south on 805 before seeing the Amber Alert, he believed that was the general direction the driver wanted to go. And the best way to do that was to make a right turn onto Linda Vista Road.

He moved into the fast lane.

At the bottom of the canyon, he passed the Escalade and returned to the right lane again. He didn’t use his signal because he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. He was just another early-evening commuter on his way home from work. Twilight was in full effect now. Every vehicle had its headlights on. He looked in his rearview mirror, calculating. If he guessed wrong about this, he’d likely lose all stealth.

Linda Vista lay just ahead, and he slowed to make the turn. The light stayed green as he rounded the corner. The moment of truth arrived. If the kidnapper didn’t turn right, Nathan would have to make an illegal U-turn and possibly blow a tire jumping the median curb.