Page 13 of Urban Justice

As expected, at the next intersection, blue and red flooded the area. Sloane swerved fast enough to avoid being hit by the first squad car, and as she knew would happen, two of the bad guys smashed into the arriving swarm of police vehicles.

The third tried to drive around, but there were too many to bypass, and she took the opportunity to push the Bugatti by exploiting all it could give her, distancing herself from the accident and the men after them.

A minute later, she merged onto the 55 and flew. The silence inside was deafening, but not for long as in a matter of minutes, she exited to get to the edge of Summit.

Careful to slow down and keep a low profile, she turned into a side street lined with shops and a strip mall, and turned again into the repair shop she was looking for. The garage door was already open and silently closed behind them. When the engine died, and the headlights turned off, they were in almost perfect darkness.

“Is this where you kill me?” The snarl of sarcasm was revealing from a man who’d seen death up close. Instead of answering, Sloane pulled out a key from her chest pocket and handed it to him. “What’s this?”

“The key to the apartment above the shop. It’s safe and stocked. You can stay there for as long as you want. I don’t suggest returning to your apartment for now, as they’re probably still looking for you.”

“So that’s it? That’s all the explanation I get?”

Angling her head slightly, she couldn’t really see him, but sensed his anger as if it had materialized between them.

“You made your decision not to help, so the less you know, the safer you’ll be. That doesn’t mean I’ll leave you out there like a sitting duck. You’ve done nothing wrong, and you need to be protected. Stay here until everything is sorted. Just be careful with your communications. Don’t tell anybody where you are or what happened. I suggest you take a sudden vacation, professor. Take the key and go rest.”

The door opened, but Professor Radcliffe remained in the car. “What are you planning to do?”

Sloane hesitated. “What needs to be done. I can’t do anything else.”

The professor stepped out but leaned back into the car. “It’s been a month since Phantom hit Chicago, and the victim count is rising. How close are you to shutting this operation down?”

It would have been so easy to lie, but she sensed he deserved the truth. “Not close enough.”

The professor sighed, and that perfectly reflected how she felt.

“That woman, the one who came to see me, you say she’s trustworthy?”

Hope tingled inside her belly. “Very. She wouldn’t hesitate to lay her life on the line for you.”

It was clear he was debating with himself, and she hoped that his brilliant mind would see their mission, even if she was a killer in his eyes.

“Her name? What’s her name?”

For a brief moment, Sloane almost broke character and slumped in her seat. All she wanted was for him to yield, just a little, to trust her enough to take a step to save lives. “Does it matter?”

“Her real name matters. And I haven’t said yes, yet. I want to talk to her first.”

Sloane started the engine. “She’ll be here first thing in the morning. In the meantime, ice your sore ribs, professor.”

“And ice yours, whoever you are.”

He slammed the door closed, and as she put the car into reverse, Sloane could feel her hands tingle at the prospect of closing in on White, maybe at the idea of choking him to death herself. And maybe at the idea that the professor would help her too.

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