Chapter 67
Wednesday afternoon
DuBois knew the exact moment Rourke confirmed the surveillance, not because the SUV sped up or Rourke looked back, but because everything suddenly became too smooth.
The gray SUV moved eastbound on Interstate 8 with careful precision now, not wandering anymore, and not deciding. He was executing.
Urban noticed it too. “He made us.”
“Yeah.”
Ahead, Chen maintained primary visual at a safe distance while Martinez hung farther back in traffic. Nobody pushed closer. That would only make it worse now.
Rourke unexpectedly exited near La Mesa, crossed two surface streets, then entered a multi-level parking structure beside a shopping center.
Urban swore softly. “That’s bad.”
Parking structures killed surveillance. There were too many exits, too many blind spots, and too many vertical breaks.
Chen’s voice crackled over the channel. “Target entering structure. Upper ramp.”
DuBois turned into the car park thirty seconds later. “Hold visual only,” he ordered. “Nobody crowds him.”
They climbed slowly. Level one, nothing. Level two, nothing.
Chen’s unmarked sedan sat near the far ramp, driver door cracked open. Chen himself stood outside, pretending to scroll through his phone.
DuBois parked beside him. “Where?”
Chen looked furious with himself. “He went up to level three.”
“And?”
“I lost him maybe fifteen seconds.”
Fifteen seconds was forever.
Urban was already moving toward the stairwell. DuBois followed. The third level sat mostly empty except for scattered vehicles and late afternoon heat shimmering off concrete. No gray SUV.
“How many exits?” DuBois asked.
Urban scanned quickly. “Three vehicle ramps. Two pedestrians.”
Chen pointed toward the far edge. “I heard acceleration maybe twenty seconds ago.”
DuBois moved to the railing overlooking the street below just in time to catch a gray SUV turning through traffic two blocks away.
“Damn it.”
Urban already had his radio up. “Secondary reacquire possible westbound—”
Martinez interrupted sharply. “Negative. Lost visual.”
The target was gone. Silence hit the channel. Nobody spoke for several seconds. Rourke hadn’t panicked. He hadn’t fled wildly. He’d identified the surveillance, moved into terrain favorable to counter-surveillance, created a visual disruption, and vanished. Very professional.
Urban stepped beside him. “He’s experienced.”
DuBois spoke into his phone. “We lost him.”
“He knows?” JP asked.
DuBois looked back across the parking structure. “Yeah.”
JP was quiet for a moment. “Sabre’s at court, but we have to assume he knows she was bait. That’s going to make him furious.”
“Do you think he’ll come after her?”
“I think he’ll either totally disappear or stay out of sight and contact her.”
“Which do you expect?”
“He’ll contact her because he still thinks he’s safe. He knows we don’t know where Hannah is or we would be picking her up, not tailing him. Rourke doesn’t see himself as the villain. He’ll want Sabre to understand him before he disappears.”
Urban crossed his arms. “The cowboy’s smart.”
DuBois ignored that. “Okay,” he said into the phone. “Then what?”
“We keep Sabre safe.”
DuBois stepped away from the railing. “All right. We regroup.” He looked at Urban. “Get quiet coverage on Sabre and the house.”
“No uniforms,” JP said.
“Agreed.” DuBois returned the phone to his ear. “And you?”
“I’m going to Sabre.”
Of course he was.