Badge Of Honor. Carol Steward

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      Nick pulled the phone from his ear. “The suspects turned right on—” Before he could finish the sentence, Sarah cut over and turned off on a side street.

      “We can catch up without fighting this heavy traffic.”

      He nodded and went back to his conversation with the shift supervisor.

      Before she got any more response from Nick, dispatch came back with a report. The car had been stolen after a bank robbery in Omaha two days earlier.

      “Stolen vehicle,” Nick confirmed. “Follow, but take it easy. They’re calling the commander.”

      “Three-eighteen in pursuit on Ram Ridge Road, southbound toward Horseshoe,” Sarah told dispatch.

      She waited for information from Nick, which didn’t come. “Was someone hurt?” Depending on the answer, everything may have just changed.

      “Yeah, are you comfortable with a high speed pursuit if necessary?” he asked. “We can call in someone else to intercept or set up a roadblock.”

      “This isn’t my first pursuit, if that’s what has you worried. And I have a perfect driving record.”

      “It was just an offer,” he said, his deep voice tinged with sarcasm.

      The car had turned back onto a main road, fighting traffic again, with Sarah on its tail. She watched drivers’ reactions with dismay. One apparently didn’t have good vision or hearing, for she didn’t make any attempt to get out of the way. She should have noticed the flashing lights by now. Sarah hit the brakes and honked her horn. Finally, the driver swerved to the right, nearly hitting the cars that were already on the shoulder.

      “Three-eighteen, status?” the dispatcher asked.

      Nick responded before she could, leaving her free to focus on the pursuit. “We have the suspect in sight. The Chevelle is turning west on Horseshoe Loop.” He leaned over and checked the speedometer. “Party is exceeding speed limits in heavy rush hour traffic.”

      “All officers in the vicinity west of Horseshoe and Dillon Road set up roadblock.”

      Oncoming traffic pulled to the shoulder, leaving Sarah an opening. She passed the remaining cars between her and the suspect, hitting a hundred miles an hour in seconds. The road turned from a four-lane to two, but traffic thinned considerably. “If I remember correctly, this road hooks left, then makes a quick right as it goes up the mountain toward the reservoir, correct?”

      “Good memory.”

      “Think the driver knows that?”

      “Yes on the road, no on suspects knowing the layout. You’re doing great.” Nick pressed one hand against the dash and spun the car-mounted laptop with the other so he could access the records on the suspects and the previous bank robbery.

      “I’m going to…” Sarah started to say. As if their quarry realized they had no way out, they screeched to a halt, spun around and headed back toward the cruiser, black smoke billowing from the exhaust pipes.

      “Aw, nuts!” she spat.

      She hit the brakes and backed across the road, leaving her the option of going either direction. “Hang on!”

      THREE

      Nick couldn’t believe the way Sarah handled the car, the chase and—if he were honest with himself—him. As the suspects raced closer, she stared them down, one hand on the wheel, one on the gearshift.

      Once they’d left the city limits, Nick had alerted the sheriff’s office that the chase was moving into their jurisdiction. Now, as they straddled the road, he heard another officer call in their exact location. “I haven’t played chicken before, but this isn’t looking good,” Nick muttered.

      “Show no fear,” she whispered. Still focused on their quarry, she spoke with authority. “That car is souped up to the max. They aren’t going to wreck it.”

      The suspects slowed almost to a stop as Roberts shimmied the cruiser forward, then back again when they attempted to get around it.

      “They stole that vehicle,” Nick reminded her.

      She didn’t bat an eye. “They could have stolen any number of cars in the Omaha area that would have garnered a lot less attention than an orange collectable car in pristine condition. They aren’t going to damage it.”

      She said so with such confidence, he found it difficult to refute her reasoning. “And what makes you think that?”

      She didn’t answer.

      Nick didn’t wait. “So we can assume they’re not from around here. That must be why they didn’t want to go into the mountains on a two-lane road once you caught up to them.”

      “Don’t you think they meant to turn toward the interstate and head for Denver?” she asked. She backed the cruiser up when they eased to the left, forward again when they tried once more to go around them to the right. “They don’t know the area, they don’t want to wreck the vehicle. They’re up a creek without a paddle.”

      Nick jumped out of the cruiser and drew his gun. “Pop the trunk. I want to show them we mean business. Maybe they’ll come to their senses.” He made his way to the rear, his handgun zeroed in on the orange car’s radiator.

      “Careful,” she said.

      He lifted the trunk lid and pulled out both of their rifles. “Lord, knock some sense into these two before we have to use our weapons.” Backup had arrived, forming a line two deep behind the Chevelle. Sheriff’s deputies came down off the mountain, forming a V-shaped blockade. The borrow ditches were ten feet deep, so the suspects weren’t likely to take that route—in any car. They were blocked in totally, unless they used the vehicle as a ramming iron.

      “Nick!”

      He returned to the passenger’s open door and handed Sarah a rifle. “Yeah?”

      “The shift supervisor wants to talk to you.”

      “My hands are a little full right now. Can you put him on speakerphone?”

      “Sure, Rambo,” she teased.

      Nick heard the phone beep as it switched to speaker mode. “Yeah?”

      “These two are wanted in the murder of a security guard, injuring one of the bank tellers, and two officers in Nebraska. A car belonging to Ricky Turrow was found a block from where this car was stolen. Do what you have to, but we want to make sure it’s the right guys. I’ve posted Turrow’s mug shots from previous arrests on the system. Be careful, Matthews. The man has an ugly rap sheet.”

      “No kidding,” Nick muttered. He leaned against the squad car, trying to figure out what Turrow and his partner were planning.

      Sarah pulled up the photo on the laptop screen. “It’s Turrow.”

      Captain Thomas broke in to ask what was happening.

      Nick СКАЧАТЬ