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“Good girl.” I watched as Serena darted away.
Lucas shifted cameras.
My gut clenched as I watched her attacker catch her again and place a rag over her mouth before she went limp.
“She tried,” Lucas said.
“Yeah.” It didn’t make me feel any better.
The big guy then dragged her out of the building, supporting her against his side like he was helping a drunk.
Moving to the outside cameras, we watched the guy put her in the backseat of a BMW SUV and follow her in.
“Fuck.” He had her, and there was also a driver involved. We couldn’t see his face from this angle.
Lucas tapped his comms. “Jordy, we have her being shoved into the back of a small blue BMW SUV. The picture’s poor, but probably an X3. The license is too fuzzy to make anything out. It left our position heading north.”
“The tag is British Columbia,” I said, pointing. “See the flag in the middle?”
“Copy that,” Jordy said. Furious keyboard clicks sounded in the background. “Got it. The car continued northbound, then east ten blocks up.”
“Let’s go.” Now we had a direction. I grabbed the office key and sprinted back to the register, slamming it down in front of the girl too entranced by her phone to notice a kidnapping in progress.
“My car’s toast,” Lucas said as he opened the passenger door to join me.
I looked over at his Cayenne, still venting steam from the crunched front end, and agreed. “I knew you Deltas couldn’t drive.”
“Fuck you.”
I floored the Porsche, and its V8 burned rubber out of the gas station. “I’ll be happy to give you defensive-driving lessons.” The turbos whined as I raced to beat the yellow light at the next intersection.
Lucas grabbed the door handle. “You call this defensive?”
I leaned on the horn as the light turned red just before we arrived.
“My woman’s in trouble. I call this warp nine.”
“Jordy,” Lucas said over comms. “Can you get a facial rec on the driver?”
“Already done,” Jordy responded. “It’s Spinelli. I don’t have a usable face shot on the second guy.”
When Lucas didn’t respond, I added, “Thanks, Bro.”
“You’re welcome,” came back through comms.
“Why’d he waste airtime saying that?” Lucas asked.
“The Serena effect.” My woman had more of an impact on us in the last week than I’d realized.
Lucas only huffed.
I sped up to move around more slow cars. “Be okay, Serena. Be safe.”
Lucas gave me a thumbs-up. “We got this.”
“They got on the freeway heading north,” Jordy said. “It’s going to be a bitch now because we don’t have much video on the freeway itself.”
“Copy that,” Lucas replied. “In pursuit. Jordy, get Winston and Terry spun up following us. We may need more than two shooters on this.”
