Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

muttered into the phone. “Bring them anyway, kiddo,” he requested as he gestured for Zane to hurry and get his shit together. “We'll see you in thirty."
    "Yes, sir,” Henninger answered before ending the call.
    As soon as the call was over, Zane and Ty scrambled, got down to their rental car in record time, and set off to drive across town to meet the other man.
    Ty found himself pondering the way Tim Henninger had come through for them as he drove in the seventy-mile-an-hour traffic. He had seriously underestimated the kid. He would have to buy him dinner or something in apology.
    In the passenger seat, Zane paged through a notepad of his own scribbling that he'd grabbed on the way out the door. “I'm still unhappy about the evidence missing,” he said.
    "What?” Ty asked flatly.
    "Different things from each case,” Zane said. “No pattern I can see. ME supplementary notes from one. Skin scrapings from another. Time notations from a third."
    Ty looked over at him and frowned. “And?"
    "Large assumption: If he's making a different mistake each time and managing to clean up after himself, we might be able to create additional profile information,” Zane said. “Areas he's weak in. That's assuming it's all not just human error."
    "Could be,” Ty drawled. “It'll be like trying to see a puzzle that's all been painted over."
    "You can still match the edges,” Zane said distractedly as he started making notations on a yellow legal pad in his lap.
    "Is there anything missing from the murders that occurred after the computer exploded?” Ty asked.
    Zane flipped through his notes, frowning. “No. Why?"
    "I still think he removed that shit as bait,” Ty claimed.
    "I'm not convinced,” Zane muttered.
    The loose papers scattered across his lap as their car was thumped hard from behind.
    Ty was thrown forward with the impact, but he kept the car straight as his head jerked. He glanced into the rearview mirror and frowned at the yellow cab behind them. The windshield had been illegally tinted until you could barely see through it, and the call numbers had been removed. “Uh oh,” he muttered.
    Turning around in the seat, Zane tried to look as the cab hit them again, harder this time. “What the hell?” he hissed. Before they could react, the cab swerved slightly to ram the back passenger quarter panel of their car, pushing them toward the concrete median wall.
    Ty tensed, his mind going blank and relying on training and instinct rather than common sense as he handled the nearly out-of-control vehicle. He watched the cab out of the corner of his eye in order to anticipate the next attack, and he kept his attention on the concrete barrier and his hands on the wheel.
    Zane pulled his gun out, looking back at the looming vehicle as it hit them again, this time actually revving the engine and pushing them. The collision was hard enough to jostle them both, and Zane had to grab the door handle. Other cars in the two lanes to their left honked and swerved wildly, skidding to keep from hitting them or the wall.
    "Fucker,” Ty growled. This was the fuck who'd been killing. This was the fuck who'd tried to kill them . He was sure of it. “Hold on,” he said to Zane with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and he slammed on the brakes, sending the rear end of their vehicle crashing into the front of the cab in retaliation.
    Biting off a curse, Zane braced himself against the dashboard just in time with his free hand as they jerked back and forth. Ty hit the gas once more and sped up, leaving the cab lagging behind.
    "Goddammit, I can't see him,” Zane ground out, trying to get a look through the tinted windshield as the cab advanced again, pulling partway up the passenger side to knock them closer to the barrier. “The sides are blacked out, too."
    "He wouldn't risk being seen,” Ty said through gritted teeth as he veered the rental car into the cab with a crunch of metal and the burning stench of rubber. Whoever the man was, though, he was good with a speeding car. Instead of veering out of control, he turned the cab to meet the push, crashing the two cars together so hard that sparks flew and smoke began to churn out of the cab's ruined grill.
    "I can't take a shot, even to take out the tires. He'll kill somebody besides us,” Zane said sharply as the driver gunned the cab's engine to pull up beside them on the passenger side. The driver swerved over to smash the cars together again, hitting the passenger side,