“Get it any way.”

She tried the compartment. It wouldn’t open. “It’s locked,” she said.

“Damnit, you need the ignition key.”

Two cars ahead were driving side-by-side at the same speed. Addis realized he was about to be boxed in. In the rearview mirror, he saw the Trailblazer trying to pass the convertible. But the woman wouldn’t let him by. Her car straddled the two lanes. A flash exploded from the muzzle of the gun. The convertible veered to the right, jumped the curb, and headed down the bank of Rock Creek.

“Oh fuck,” Lancette said. “Did he … ?”

“I think he just shot out her tire,” Addis said. But he had not been able to tell.

Addis flashed his high beams and pressed the horn.

“The turn’s coming up,” Lancette said.

“I know. I know.”

The cars in front were still side-by-side. Addis brought the Honda to a few feet within a hatchback in the left lane. The car in the right lane, a large sedan, slowed and dropped back. Addis began to shift lanes.

“Right around this bend,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah—”

The hatchback started changing lanes and was about to collide with the Honda. “Fuck!” Addis yelled. He pumped the brakes and swerved to the left to get around the hatchback. “Fucking idiot!” He accelerated to pass the hatchback. The Trailblazer was fifty yards behind.

“Right here!” Lancette shouted.

Addis looked to the right. The hatchback was next to him, and close behind it was the sedan. He couldn’t shift lanes. He raced past the exit.

“Damn,” Lancette murmured.

Addis passed the hatchback and jumped into the right lane. In the sideview mirror, he saw the headlights of the Trailblazer. There were no cars ahead. But the road was bending slightly to the left, providing the driver of the Trailblazer a better angle on the Honda. Addis guided the Honda as far to the right as possible. The tires kicked up gravel from the shoulder. To his left, he saw asphalt illuminated by the lights of the Trailblazer.

“After the overpass, take the sharp right,” Lancette said. “It’s Pennsylvania Avenue. We can head toward the White House.”

Yeah, blow by all the squad cars, concrete barriers, and patrols, and crash the gate, right into the West Wing. Sorry, Kelly, I’m a little late.

“Sure,” he said.

The Trailblazer’s driver had a straight line to the Honda. But he would have to shoot across his windshield. Addis wondered if the driver was left-handed.

“You’re going to have to slow down to make it,” she said.

A shot hit the front fender of the Honda and blew out the electrical connection to the left headlight.

“I don’t think so,” Addis said.

The Honda passed beneath Pennsylvania Avenue. Addis saw the ramp to the right. He took his foot off the accelerator and yanked the wheel. He felt the car pulling against him.

“It’s not …”