Page 64 of Emi's Hero

“Get down,” George repeated.

She slid out of her seat and curled into a ball on the floorboard, tucking her head between her knees.

When Warren was only three cars behind them, the vehicles ahead of George and Emi picked up speed, pulling through the stoplight.

By the time George reached the stoplight, the light blinked from green to yellow.

He hit the accelerator, pushing through. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Warren staring after the vehicles that had made it through. A big black SUV pulled up beside him at the stoplight. Warren jumped in, but the driver had to wait for the light to turn green again and for the traffic to clear the intersection.

“You can get up now,” he said.

Emi unfolded herself and slipped into the passenger seat. When she tried to buckle her seatbelt, her hands shook so much it took her several attempts before she finally got it to click. Then she sat back against the seat, drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He was so close.”

“You’re safe, Emi. I wouldn’t let him get to you.”

“But he saw me. He knows I survived.” She turned to George, her face pale. “He’ll go to the compound for Sara. She’s his bargaining chip. He knows I won’t go to the police as long as he has her.”

George dug into the pocket of his lightweight jacket and pulled out the tracking device. “We can track him and follow him to the compound.”

Emi held the device in her shaking hands. “The dot is moving.”

“Which direction?” George asked.

“Same way we’re going, only behind us.”

George’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out. It was Hawk. George answered, putting the device on speaker. “Hawk, tell me you’re tracking him, too.”

“We are,” Hawk’s voice came through loud and clear. “Our bogey is headed west on Ala Moana Boulevard. I just got off the phone with Swede; they dug deeper into Hollingsworth’s holdings and found a subsidiary corporation that registered a Reva yacht. That subsidiary corporation has properties on Oahu, Maui and Kauai. Guess who the CEO of that subsidiary is?”

George’s jaw tightened. “Vincent Warren.”

“Bingo,” Hawk said. “And the corporate yacht is moored at the Waikiki Yacht Club.”

“If he’s going for Sara, he could be heading for his yacht,” George said.

“He’s going for Sara,” Emi said, her tone strained.

“Hawk, I’m headed to the yacht club to get ahead of Warren. If he changes course, I’ll get back on the road.”

“Kalea called the FBO at the airport. She’s having them top off the fuel. She contacted another pilot friend of hers, and he’s heading for the airport right now. We’ll need both planes to get the team to whichever island Warren heads toward.”

“Good.”

“Now, we wait to see which island,” Hawk said, “while Swede tracks down all the properties he owns and their coordinates. My drone guys are still on Kauai. If that’s where Warren is headed,once we have coordinates, they can check each and give us the best possible location of the compound.”

“I’ll let you know what I find at the yacht club. Out here,” George said and ended the call. He brought up the GPS map application. When he had to stop at a light, he looked up the Waikiki Yacht Club and got the directions.

“The dot on the tracker is getting closer to us,” Emi said.

“We’ll have to be far enough ahead to avoid detection,” George said. “Hold on.”

The traffic light ahead had already turned yellow. It would be red before he reached it.

George slammed his foot down on the accelerator, sending the rental car through the now red light before the cars with the green lights started moving. He did it two more times before he reached the turn he had to take for the yacht club.

By the time they reached the Waikiki Yacht Club, they had a better lead on the other vehicle.

George parked on a street a block away from the club. “You need to stay in the car,” he said as he released his seatbelt.

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