InSight

kept going.
    Luke never heard the sound of the blast behind him, but he felt the ground-shaking vibration. He turned around. The top floor of the building erupted into the stratosphere. Debris flew everywhere. Bricks and wood and glass rained down in every direction. Desks shot from the windows in pieces. Fire licked the sky like a thousand streaks of lightning. Subsequent explosions rocked their retreat—additional solvents igniting in the heat of the fire. A series of blasts followed inside the lower floors. Toxic chemicals saturated the air, adding to the burning sensations everyone thought they’d escaped. Luke, carrying Abby, moved the others even farther back until, out of harm’s way. They all collapsed onto the ground.
    Luke didn’t hear the sirens wailing, but then fire engines and ambulances were right on top of them, filling the streets. A few pulled up next to them. Paramedics zeroed in on Abby and administered oxygen. Because she’d been nearest to the upstairs lab, she was the only unconscious survivor, although a few others teetered on joining her.
    Patients huddled on the ground, dazed, unsure what was happening. One of the attendants tried to sneak off in the confusion, but Jeff grabbed him and brought him to the attention of the police, who now covered the area. No one would escape.
    Luke remained focused on Abby. He helped a paramedic lift her onto a gurney and into the ambulance.
    “Will she be all right?” Luke asked.
    “Her vitals are good,” the paramedic said. “I think you got her out in time. But when I was putting in an IV, I noticed this. See? She’s been injected with something. Does she do drugs?”
    Luke leaned over and inspected the puncture wound. “No,” Luke said. “Never.” Anger swelled inside him. If either Crock or Collyer were anywhere near, he’d kill them with his bare hands. “Bastards,” he said under his breath.
    “You know who did this?”
    “I have an idea,” Luke said.
    Jeff came over and mouthed something to Luke. After a glance at Abby, Luke turned back to his friend. The paramedic said, “You coming?” Luke made his choice. He shook his head. The doors to the back of the ambulance closed. Luke watched it drive away, then hurried with Jeff to his car.
    * * * * *
    Collyer almost made it to I-95 when he saw the flashing light on the dash of the unmarked SUV. Damn, he’d been so careful. Never drove over the speed limit. No burned out bulbs. He could have taken back roads, but it would have doubled his time, and he needed to get out of the country. His car was registered to a shell company, one of many in the Gentry-Serrano network. Legal but untraceable, as long as no one took the time to unravel the tangled provenance. Why the fuck was the damn cop stopping him?
    He’d arranged everything in advance. He wasn’t chancing a nearby airport like Jacksonville or Myrtle Beach or even Atlanta . That’s exactly what they’d expect. No, he always devised an escape route, and as soon as he got in the car, he set it in motion. With new papers in hand, he’d arranged a private jet out of Richmond bound for Amsterdam . He’d be back in South Africa before the cops got their asses in gear. He didn’t need the distraction of an overzealous cop aiming for his monthly quota.
    Pulling to the side of the highway, he popped the glove compartment for the papers. A button inside released his Sig. He tucked it under his right thigh, ready. He sure as hell didn’t want to leave a dead cop behind, but he would if he had to.
    Damn, two cops. The one riding shotgun got out and walked towards him. Big guy. Walked with his head down so that Collyer saw only the top of head. Couldn’t make out his face or the face of the one in the car. Goddamn state police, driving unmarked vehicles. Sneaky bastards. A fleeting thought questioned why he wasn’t in uniform.
    Stay cool. You didn’t do anything wrong. They couldn’t have a make on this car.
    He rolled down the window, papers ready. “Was I speeding, officer?”
    “Get out of your car, sir,” the trooper said. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
    The driver looked up. He saw the gun pointing at his face. What in hell was going on? Then he looked at the cop’s face. “Fuck,” he said.
    The trooper read his lips. “No, fuck you.”
    Collyer reached under his leg for the Sig, but it was too late. The timing was all wrong.
    “Abby said for you to go to hell,” the cop said.

Chapter