30. Diego Runs
Diego Runs
Diego Serrano had always known when to leave.That was the difference between him and Mateo.Mateo believed loyalty meant standing your ground.Diego believed loyalty ended the second staying became stupid.And by the time the first FBI vehicle crashed through the warehouse perimeter, Diego understood one thing with absolute clarity.The Vargas organization was finished.Not wounded.Not compromised.Finished.So while Mateo stayed inside trying to hold together what was already collapsing, Diego disappeared.He took what mattered.Cash.Product.Two duffel bags.Three men he trusted.And the one route Mateo had never bothered putting on any property plan.The old rail-service road.By the time Chris Walker realized Mateo had been used as a decoy, Diego was already behind the wheel of a black Suburban pushing toward the north access road. “Secondary target moving!”
Chris heard it through the radio before he saw the vehicle.He came through the warehouse doors at a run, FBI vest tight across his chest, handgun secured at his side.
Cold air hit his face.Engines roared across the loading yard.Red and blue lights flashed against the warehouse walls.Agents shouted.Vehicles moved.Then Chris saw the black Suburban cutting hard toward the northwest service route.
“Diego’s moving!”Logan appeared beside him.
“Which one?”Chris pointed.“Black Suburban!”A second SUV followed.Then a dark pickup.Three vehicles.Of course Diego wasn’t leaving alone.
Chris sprinted toward the closest FBI Charger.An agent had barely climbed out before Chris reached him.“Keys.”The agent blinked.“Walker—”
“Keys.”He tossed them.Chris caught them.Logan stopped beside the passenger door.
Looked at Chris.Then at the Charger.Then back at Chris.“Oh, fuck.”Chris opened the driver’s door.“What?”
“I’ve seen you drive.”
“Then buckle up.”Logan climbed in.“That’s exactly what I was afraid you were going to say.”Chris slammed the door.Started the engine.The Charger came alive beneath him.
For the first time since entering the Vargas organization, he didn’t have to pretend this ability came from some half-imagined street-racing history.No fake stories.No Roman.This was what years of training had made him.Special Agent Chris Walker.And Diego Serrano was about to discover exactly what that meant.Chris shifted into drive.Logan grabbed the overhead handle. “Wait.”Chris looked over.“What?”
“You haven’t even moved yet and I’m already regretting this.”Chris smiled.Then floored it.The Charger launched.Logan’s head snapped back against the seat.“Jesus Christ!”
“Seat belt.”
“It’s on!”
“Then stop complaining.”
“We’ve been moving for three seconds!”Chris drove through the open warehouse gate.
One FBI SUV moved aside just in time.Radio crackled.“Secondary target northbound on rail access!”Chris keyed the mic.“Walker pursuing. Three vehicles. Black Suburban primary.”
Mercer’s voice came back.“Walker, containment units moving from east.”
“Copy.”
“Do not outrun support.”Chris didn’t answer.Logan looked over.“That sounded like an instruction.”
“I heard him.”
“You’re ignoring him.”
“I’m processing.”
“You process very selectively.”Chris took the next turn.Fast.Logan grabbed the handle harder.“Mother of God.”
“You religious now?”
“Since I got in your passenger seat.”Chris almost laughed.Almost.Then everything sharpened.Suburban ahead.Half a mile.Two vehicles behind it.Sparse industrial traffic.
Good.Chris pressed harder.The Charger surged forward.Logan watched the speedometer.
“No.”Chris glanced over.“No what?”
“No whatever number you’re about to make that become.”Chris looked back at the road.
“You’re distracting me.”
“That is absolutely intentional.”
Diego looked in the mirror.Headlights.Closing.Fast.Too fast.He knew that car.
Not the car itself.The way it moved.Controlled aggression.Late braking.No hesitation.Roman.No.Not Roman.Walker.Diego’s jaw tightened.“Son of a bitch.”
The man beside him looked back.“Feds?”
“One.”
“What?”Diego pressed harder on the accelerator.“One federal agent.”The man stared.
“You know who?”Diego smiled without humor.“Oh, yeah.”He checked the mirror again.
“Chris fucking Walker.”Chris closed the distance.Three hundred yards.Two fifty.
The pickup dropped back.Deliberately.Chris saw it.“Watch the pickup.”Logan turned.
“Why?”
“It’s shielding Diego.”The pickup shifted between the Charger and the Suburban.
“Yep.”Chris changed lanes.Pickup changed with him.Again.Chris smiled.Logan saw it.
“No.”Chris looked at him.“What?”
“That smile.”
“What smile?”
“The one that means you’ve just decided something stupid.”Chris downshifted.“Depends on your definition.”
“My definition is whatever you’re about to do.
”The pickup moved left.Chris waited.Then accelerated right.The driver reacted late.Chris slipped alongside.The pickup swerved toward them.Logan shouted:“Walker!”Chris held the line.Metal came close.Too close.Then Chris eased just enough to let the pickup overcommit.The driver corrected hard.The truck drifted wide.Chris shot ahead.Logan stared at him. “You could’ve slowed down.”
“I could’ve.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”Chris looked over.“Then we’d still be behind him.”Logan laughed once in disbelief.“You’re insane.”
“So I’ve been told.”They were gaining on Diego.The road opened into a long industrial straightaway.Warehouse lights flashed past.Chris’s eyes never stopped moving.Mirror.
Suburban.Road.Truck behind.Possible cross traffic.Escape routes.Radio.Everything.
He heard Mercer’s voice.“Walker, air has visual. Target heading toward Highway 16 connector.”Chris keyed the mic.“Copy.”
“State units moving to assist.”
“Tell them not to enter ahead of him.”Logan looked over.“Why?”
“He’ll ram through.”Mercer responded.“Copy.”Chris accelerated again.Logan looked at the speedometer.“That’s triple digits.”
“Good observation.”
“That’s not praise.”
“Sounded like praise.”
“Slow down.”
“No.”
“Walker.”
“You want Diego?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me work.”Logan stared.Then muttered:“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I deeply dislike you.”
“That’s fair.”Diego’s second SUV dropped back next.Chris saw the brake lights.
“Here we go.”Logan braced.“What?”
“Second blocker.”The SUV shifted sideways.Not enough to stop.Enough to force Chris off the ideal line.Chris waited.The SUV moved again.Chris dropped behind.Logan looked over.
“You backing off?”
“No.”
“That’s unlike you.”
“Give it a second.”The SUV driver glanced in his mirror.Thought Chris had surrendered the position.Then Chris accelerated.Hard.The Charger moved into the opposite lane during a clear stretch.Passed.The SUV tried matching.Too late.Chris slipped back ahead.Logan exhaled.
“You know, normal people just call for another unit.”
“Normal people aren’t fun.”
“This isn’t supposed to be fun.”
“I know.”Chris’s tone changed.And Logan heard it.There was nothing playful underneath now.Diego had tried to have Chris killed.Had investigated Camila.Had men at the hotel.
And if Mateo was right, Diego knew exactly what she meant to him.Chris wasn’t going to let him disappear.The Suburban hit the highway connector.Traffic increased.Chris immediately backed off.Logan noticed.“Finally.”
“Civilians.”The humor disappeared.Chris adjusted.Distance.Patience.Traffic between them became a problem.Diego knew it too.He began weaving through vehicles.Chris cursed.
“He’s going to kill somebody.”
“Mercer, target driving aggressively through civilian traffic.”
“Air maintains visual. You do not need to stay bumper-to-bumper.”Chris hated that.
But Mercer was right.He let the distance grow.The helicopter would keep Diego.
Chris didn’t need to prove anything.He needed to bring him in alive.And avoid turning a federal pursuit into a highway disaster.“Air says target exiting in two miles,” Logan said.
Chris nodded.“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Less traffic.”
“Oh, fantastic.”Chris glanced at him.“You want to get out?”
“At this speed?”
“Fair.”The Suburban exited.Chris followed.The road narrowed again.Industrial outskirts.
Diego had made a mistake.He was moving toward open freight routes.Fewer civilians.
More room.Chris smiled faintly.Logan looked over.“There it is again.”
“Relax.”
“Never tell me to relax while you’re smiling like that.”Chris accelerated.
At FBI headquarters, Camila sat frozen in front of the monitor.Sloan stood beside her.
The warehouse raid had fractured into multiple operations.Arrests.Evidence teams.
Medical response.Now—pursuit.Camila heard a voice over the command channel.
“Walker pursuing secondary target.”Her head snapped up.“No.”Sloan looked over.
Camila stood.“No.”
“Camila.”
“He’s chasing Diego?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”Sloan gave her a look.Camila immediately realized how ridiculous the question sounded.“Right. FBI.”She rubbed both hands over her face.“This is getting very old.”
“What?”
“Every time I learn something about him, he runs toward bullets or drives a car like he’s invincible.
”Sloan’s mouth twitched.“He’s not invincible.
”Camila’s hand went into the pocket of Chris’s sweatshirt.Two tests.Still there.She squeezed them.Chris didn’t know.He was chasing Diego without knowing he had a child on the way.Her eyes filled. “What if he crashes?”“He’s very good.”
“I’ve seen him drive.”Sloan nodded.“Then you know.”
“That is not comforting.”Another radio transmission:“Walker closing on target.”
Camila closed her eyes.“Jesus Christ, Chris.”Diego saw the Charger again.Closer.
Always closer.He hit the steering wheel.“How the fuck is he still there?”
The passenger looked back.“He’s FBI.”