By then, Zidarov was gaining rapidly. He could just make out the two black outlines ahead, smeary in the rain, their tail lights red and angry. ‘Affirmative. Can you disable the rear vehicle without taking damage?’

‘That’s what this thing’s built for.’

‘Good.’

He continued to gain. As they joined the main trunk of the transitway, the volume of traffic picked up, and he had to work harder. It was difficult keeping speed high while monitoring the targets, and he had to duck and shift between the many lanes. Soon that kind of driving would attract attention, so he didn’t dare pull right up close, keeping them a couple of hundred yards in front of him and letting the scanner track their position.

The penultimate intersection flew by, marked by a host of overhead gantries with lumens flaring. Zidarov saw that Draj had come out ahead of him, swinging onto the carriageway less than fifty yards behind the targets. He could pick out the Bulwark clearly through the forward viewer – a massive chunk of metal, barrelling along, belching smoke and swaying wildly in the storm wind.

That would get their attention, freeing him to act. Zidarov kicked in the second engine, and the groundcar leapt forward. He hauled the controls to the right, and slid messily past a lumbering personnel hauler, before straightening and going for the gap between two private vehicles.

The road bent lazily around to the right, following an ­elevated path over residential habclaves. Once it hit intersection 45T there were embankments on either side – breaking through the barriers would take them all down the slopes beyond in a hail of scree. At least, that was the plan.

Zidarov was getting close now. The rear target vehicle was plainly visible, its profile marred by a haze of spray. Several lanes over, Draj’s Bulwark was tearing along, carving a brutal path through plainly terrified commuters. All elements were converging fast, and the first warning sign for the intersection flashed up ahead.

It was then that the targets started to move. They had clearly seen Draj gaining on them, despite his position being four lanes over, and began to push faster. If there had been no traffic at all, they might have been able to boost away entirely, but making progress in such cramped conditions was hard, and they merely shifted position away from the exit lane.

‘Close in now,’ Zidarov voxed. ‘Gap opening up ahead – we take them here.’

The intersection surged closer, and on either side of the incoming slip roads the level of the land rose sharply. Draj managed to find a gap to dart across, and pulled in tighter to the rear target vehicle. Zidarov battled to get in closer too, fighting both the elements and the press of traffic around him. His car skidded erratically on a slick of water before the tyres bit.

Just as that happened, he got a vox from Brecht.