The Genesis Plague - Michael Byrnes [52]
‘Smart thinking. Look, Tommy, you two need to keep safe until we figure out what’s going on here.’
‘I know. I’m taking Brooke to the office now,’ Flaherty said. ‘You watch over your shoulder too.’
‘Will do,’ Jason said. ‘You’re in good hands, Brooke. Nice talking with you.’
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘Gotta go,’ Jason said. ‘I’ll be in touch shortly.’
The line went dead.
Flaherty pocketed the phone.
‘Sounds like a clever fellow,’ Brooke said.
‘If only you knew,’ Flaherty said. In the rearview mirror, the angular headlights swooped in from behind - the vehicle a mere shadow through the rear window’s crackled glass. Checking the side mirror, he saw a Hyundai sedan was putt-putting along in the fast lane, about three car lengths back. Then the vehicle tailing him made another abrupt manoeuvre and eclipsed the Hyundai. The silver Ford Explorer had returned, and for the first time, Flaherty glimpsed the driver’s silhouette. When he finally discerned the driver’s narrow face and big ears, his heart jumped into his throat.
29
‘Red light!’ Brooke yelled, throwing both hands on to the dashboard. Instead of slowing, Agent Flaherty stomped on the accelerator and blew through the intersection. He nearly clipped a green and white taxi that was cutting along Belvidere Street. The taxi slid to a stop in the busy crosswalk outside Prudential Center’s south exit.
‘Just hold tight,’ he said. In the mirror, he saw the Ford Explorer weave erratically around the taxi and shoot forward in pursuit.
‘Are you crazy! What are you—!’
‘That’s him in the Explorer … behind us.’
She turned to get a look. ‘Oh my God…’ she gasped. ‘Does this thing have airbags?’ she nervously asked, staying low in the seat.
He didn’t reply, and focused on the traffic up ahead. A meandering canary-yellow duck boat chugged along the centre lane, splitting between a bus in the slow lane and a car easing to queue for a left turn where signboards pointed to Prudential Center’s underground parking lot.
Flaherty’s anxiety spiked. ‘Come on … come on!‘ he yelled at the half boat, half truck.
‘You can’t stop!’
‘I know …’
He considered an evasive U-turn along the wide avenue, but the traffic coming in the opposite direction was too thick and allowed no adequate opening.
Any hope of making a right on to Garrison was instantly dashed as the bus eased to a stop with its right blinker on, waiting for pedestrians to cross the side street. The Chrysler Concorde’s front bumper practically kissed the duck boat’s rear as Flaherty angled around the bus. The rowdy tourists on board the modified WWII amphibious troop carrier began quacking loudly, just like they’d been told by the driver at the tour’s inception. Having been cheated of a full tour, thanks to the frozen Charles River, their pent-up energy was now fully directed at Flaherty’s Concorde. Under better circumstances, Flaherty might have thought the scene comical.
An aggressively driven taxi slipped in behind him, one step ahead of the Explorer. Flaherty expected the Explorer to move in behind the taxi, but it didn’t. His eyes darted back to the road. The next opportunity to make a turn would come on Harcourt Street, just ahead on the right. However, he could see that that walkway was also clogged with pedestrians.
‘Shit,’ he growled. Staying the course towards the bottleneck at Copley Square was a losing proposition.
‘Look out!’ Brooke yelled, pointing out his side window.
Flaherty turned just as the Explorer swerved into the centre lane and forced the duck boat to fall back with a dissenting blow of its air horn. The Explorer’s passenger window was already down and Flaherty glimpsed the assassin steadying the gun for a clear shot.
‘Down!’ Flaherty yelled. He ducked low and jammed on the accelerator just as the assassin fired a triple shot. The rounds