Chicago Vendetta. Don Pendleton

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       Chapter Two

      Johnny saw the radical maneuver Esparza pulled and instantly realized Sergeant Rusch would be unable to compensate and continue the tail. However, he had ample opportunity to get over and he did—not all the drivers in Chicago were rude, and they let him ease over when he put on his signal and wave for permission to cross in front of them. As soon as Johnny got onto Morgan, his mobile phone rang and Hillman’s name came up.

      Johnny couldn’t repress a smile as he answered. “I thought I might hear from you.”

      “Very funny. Do you have eyes on our guy?”

      “As a matter of fact, I do.”

      “I think he made us. There wasn’t any other reason for him to do that.”

      “Unless he was just playing it careful,” Johnny suggested.

      A long pause followed that, and then Hillman said, “Okay, you may have a point. Just keep an eye on him and stay on the phone with us. We’ll get back to you. We’re two blocks down and now turning north.”

      Johnny kept one eye on the signs while trying to make sure he didn’t let their quarry out of sight. He reported, “Okay, we’re continuing north and going under some tracks. He’s signaling to make a right-hand turn.”

      “All right, good,” Hillman replied. “That would be Hubbard Street he’s turning onto. So he’s now going east on Hubbard.”

      “Right. He’s picking up speed now and...wait a minute.” Johnny confirmed Esparza had applied the brakes and suddenly did another right-hand turn into what looked like a broad private drive more than a street.

      “I’m not sure where he’s going. He’s turning right again, and he’s now going back under the tracks. It looks like some kind of business or factory.”

      “I know where you’re talking about,” Hillman said. “Stay with him. We’ll be there in a few minutes. And Gray?”

      “Yeah?”

      “Watch your ass. Esparza is an experienced cop, and he might be savvy to someone following him. Don’t take any chances.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny said before he disconnected and shut off his lights as he turned right to pull in behind Esparza’s car.

      Buildings towered on either side of Johnny’s car. Such a place would’ve provided an opportune location for an ambush, but he had some sense that Esparza figured his little maneuver back at the intersection would’ve shaken any pursuers. Still, he wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that Esparza didn’t have street smarts. Underestimating an opponent got people killed. It was a concept that had been driven into Johnny time and again by his big brother. Mack was a consummate professional and soldier who looked at the world with an icy stare, constantly wary and calculating every advantage. He lived life on the edge, every move tactical, and he’d paid for it dearly by sacrificing any sort of personal life or truly intimate relationships.

      Johnny stopped his car and killed the engine, operating on pure instinct at this point. The private drive had continued on between a series buildings, like an alleyway, and with dusk nearly gone, it was getting difficult to clearly see what was beyond the nearest building. He peered through the windshield, and sudden movement directly ahead caused his breath to catch in his throat. It looked like Esparza in silhouette, and Johnny was betting the guy had gone inside whatever business occupied the warehouse-size building situated at the end of the alley-like drive.

      The California PI reached beneath his jacket and rested his hand on the cold, reassuring butt of a SIG Sauer P320.

      Johnny started at the sudden rap on the passenger window. He looked to see Hillman leaned over, his face fully staring back at him expectantly. He stabbed the power lock switch, and the detective immediately climbed inside, barely giving Johnny the chance to get his laptop off the seat.

      “So what’s going on?” he asked.

      “I think Esparza went inside there.”

      “Did he have the satchel?”

      “Couldn’t tell for sure. He was heading inside by the time I got here,” Johnny replied. “But probably.”

      Hillman squinted through the windshield. “Not sure if I’m remembering correctly, but I think the building is actually an old brewery.”

      “Maybe Esparza is just stopping off for a beer.”

      “Doubtful.” Hillman sucked air through his teeth. “Lakea and I were talking about this some. I think Esparza is working as a bagman. But for who? That’s the question.”

      “If СКАЧАТЬ