Page 66 of Count Down

I burst through the door just in time to see a van rushing away down the alley. It speeds out into the street and cuts left across Broad Street.

Lexi is scrambling up to get off the ground. A black-haired woman is leaning against the wall of the theater building. She’s obviously been hit and looks dazed. Gina’s not here.

“THEY’VE GOT GINA!” Lexi yells as she points after the van.

I sprint down the alleyway after the van. As I turn out of the alley, I catch just a glimpse of the van again before it turns right down Locust Street. There’s a crowd of theater goers at the front of the building. Some of them are yelling, outraged by the van that just flew past them out of the alleyway.

I run out into the street, following the direction of the van. I turn the corner on Locust. I can just barely see the taillights of the van, speeding and swerving out of sight several blocks away.

My car is parked just a block from here, behind a cafe off Locust Street. By the time I get to my car, the van will be too far gone for me to find it again. I pull out my phone and sprint the rest of the way to my car.

While running, I open theFind Myapp that Gina installed. I pull up her location. It’s loading…

Found her! She has her phone on her. They’re heading North on 11thStreet.

I get to my car and speed out of the parking lot, following down Locust and swerving through traffic to head up 11th. At this point, Gina’s tracking shows they’re heading east. They’re getting on I-95.

By the time I get up 11thand turn right toward I-95, they’ve already turned north. They’re moving much faster now that they’re on the highway and out of the city traffic. I’m just barely able to keep pace with them.

I get on I-95 and speed up. I don’t care how fast I’m going. I swerve between and around cars to try and catch up. They’re still a few miles ahead of me. They’ve already gotten off of I-95 just north of Bridesburg. They’re still heading north, now on Harbison Avenue.

I’m keeping my eyes on the road, but glancing at the tracking app, hoping I can close the gap between us.

They turn north on Roosevelt, just as I’m exiting I-95 onto Bustleton. I’m getting closer to them. It looks like they’ve stopped.

My gut churns. They’re not moving anymore.

I pull up on the sidewalk near a roller rink. The van is not here. Nobody is around, but this is where Gina’s tracking points to.

I grab my phone and jump out of the car. I get dizzy as I worry that I’m going to find Gina’s body, dumped on the side of the road.

But there’s no one here. No body. I find Gina’s phone laying at the edge of the sidewalk, its screen cracked.

They tossed it out the window.

I look around. No sign of the van. The parking lot of the roller rink behind me is busy. Ahead of me is an Office Max and a strip mall.

I get the uneasy feeling of being out of my territory. Out of the part of Philadelphia that I know. The last time I was in this area I was with Raf.

I rush back to my car, tossing the phones onto the passenger seat. I roar up Roosevelt, knowing where I’ll find the van.

“Fucking sloppy Russians,” I fume under my breath.

48

GINA

I can barely moveunder the weight of the two men pressing me against the floor of the van. The van sways wildly. Probably swerving through traffic.

Eventually, it feels like we’re traveling faster. We must be on the highway now. Nobody says anything. There are at least two guys pinning me down and one driver. I’m not sure if there are more.

Finally, someone speaks in Russian. I can’t understand him but it’s fairly calm. Like a question. Someone else replies with a short response. Then I feel hands groping at my pockets.

They’re going for my phone. I hope to hell Luca is tracking it. That’s probably what they’re thinking, too. I try to press my hips against the van floor, trying to make it hard for them to get into my pockets. If they destroy my phone, Luca won’t be able to follow us. Every second I can delay them is valuable.

My squirming buys me maybe ten more seconds before they overpower me and get the phone out of my pocket. The men say something in Russian again. I feel a rush of air around the van as a window opens and then closes again. They’ve thrown out my phone.

I try not to lose hope. There’s got to be some way I can get out of this. There’s always got to be a way.