Nick sawed hard on the wheel as the Volvo banked around a tight turn, tires screaming. The police car was using its horsepower advantage, closing the gap, jolting them hard again as the bumpers kissed.
The cop was determined.
He抎 give him that.
Their pursuer angled left and moved up alongside in the opposite lane. He gave the Volvo more gas and increased speed. The police car jerked back and regained its equilibrium, its front grille visible in the mirrors from his taillights. The road ahead vaulted up then turned sharply. The police car dropped back, then closed again. They crested the hill and the Volvo抯 wheels left the pavement for an instant. He kept a tight hold on the wheel, fighting not to lose control.
They skidded around another turn.
Trees continued to be packed tightly along the pavement edges providing little room to escape. He poured on the power, a turn coming on fast. The tires slid right and he twisted the vehicle off the soft bumpy shoulder, back on solid asphalt, compensating for the slide that came from the sudden changes in speed, drag, and hold. A glance in the mirrors showed the patrol car to his left. What the hell was the guy doing? No telling what was coming up around that curve in the opposite lane, the one the cop had decided to use.
And they were both going way too fast for the turn.
The shattering of a horn sent a wave of thunder through the car as another vehicle appeared in the opposite lane, headed straight for the patrol car.
Nick hit the brakes.
Tires grabbed pavement.
They slowed, but the patrol car kept going into the turn.
Way too fast.
But he抎 given them room to come back over into the proper lane. The cop seemed to realize the mistake and tried to brake while veering right. The car抯 rear end fishtailed in a 180-degree spin. Tires slid along the dry asphalt, smoke billowing up from the friction. Nick slowed and watched as the patrol car slid from the roadway. Thankfully, the trees had ended and nothing but an open field stretched out into the darkness. The car kept spinning, dirt corkscrewing up like a twister.
Finally, it came to a stop.
As did he.
The car sat out in the field, its lights still on. Nick heard power being added to the idling engine. The rear tires spun freely, obviously mired down in loose soil, unable to gain traction.
揂re they okay??Claire asked.
揕ooks like it.?
He hit the accelerator and they sped away.
Half an hour later he eased the Volvo into a closed gas station, not a light on anywhere. It was really late and he was tired. They were south from Ghent, deep in the Belgian woods. No more police had appeared, the one vehicle their only pursuer. Still, they needed to ditch the car and find some other transportation. Surely the make, model, and license plate had been communicated across the airwaves.
Like the old saying went, You can抰 outrun the radio.
He stepped out and ran his hands through his hair, trying to shake the cobwebs from his eyes. Adrenaline had been keeping him going, but the rush was fading. He liked to say that he received his fears from his father and his audacity from his mother.
Both had just come into play.
Claire followed him out into the night, then opened the rear door and began to move the body bag from the floorboard back onto the rear seat. He opened the other rear door and helped. They settled the corpse back down, safe and sound.
揥here exactly are we going with this body??he asked her.
揟o our motherhouse. We have a burial ground there.?
He knew that location. Southern France. Near the Spanish border.
They both closed their rear door.
揑抦 going to call Sisters Ellen and Isabel,?Claire said. 揂nd arrange for us to meet them.?
揑 have to make a couple of calls too,?he told her, pointing off to the left. 揊rom over there.?
He walked off, about a hundred feet away from the car, and dialed Reynaldo抯 number in New York. His boss answered and he apprised him of what he抎 done.
揑 assume there抯 a good reason for what you did??
揟his is bigger than I thought,?he told Reynaldo. 揑 had to gain these nuns?confidence.?
揑 get that. But you broke a lot of laws. Maybe you抳e forgotten, but the UN has to respect its member states?autonomy. The Belgians are not going to be happy with any of this.?
揑 had no choice.?
揘ick, there are always choices. You just chose the easiest one, and now I have a huge diplomatic mess to clean up.?
He hated placing Reynaldo in such a difficult situation.
揂nd let抯 not forget,?his boss said, 搕hat you used this office to gather information and get a vehicle that facilitated the theft. We are an accessory. That means my ass is on the line now too. What抯 really going on there? You抳e taken chances before, but those were in war zones with few rules. Never like this.?