Ann tensed, wondering if they would kill her first. Sitting between Pablo and the bearded man named Juan, she didn’t know which man to fear more. Shrinking from Pablo, she turned toward her other guard. With a black eye and dried blood on his cheek, Juan sat with a pistol against her ribs and a snarl etched on his face.

Ann’s hands had been bound and a gun held on her after Pablo discovered her on the boat. Fear had gripped her since, but now a glimmer of hope surfaced in the form of the Mexican police. Perhaps Pitt had somehow informed them. She silently prayed that she wouldn’t get caught in the cross fire of a shoot-out.

The driver accelerated sharply, which caused the four-door pickup to sway and bounce over the rough road. It zipped through several switchbacks before cresting a high coastal ridge. Once over the summit, the road wound down the opposite flank, dropping into the broad valley that housed the border town of Tijuana.

A million lights twinkled through the hazy smog suspended over the city. That view soon vanished as the pickup raced down the slope and entered the city’s outskirts. Looking back, the driver saw he had distanced himself from the police car’s flashing lights.

The truck approached a busy four-lane freeway that looped around the southern end of Tijuana. Pablo noticed the driver begin to turn onto the highway. “No, stay off the highway! Go through the city, it will be easier to lose them.”

The driver nodded and headed into the congested confines of Tijuana. He glanced into his mirror once more. Another vehicle was preventing the police car from closing pursuit.

The intervening vehicle was the utility van. Pitt was doing everything he could to keep within reach of the pickup, despite the police car on his tail. He had nearly melted the van’s small engine, whipping it up the hill at high revolutions to keep pace. The more powerful police Charger easily caught up to the van, then rode its rear bumper with authority.

Pitt created a slight advantage for himself on the downhill run, driving the van on the very edge. Gravel flew as he rocketed through the turns, more focused on staying with the pickup than eluding the police car. The Charger’s driver was more cautious, allowing Pitt to create some separation as they barreled toward the city.

“We’re going to have to do something about our companion,” Pitt said, as they entered the city of nearly two million people.

Giordino glanced at the back of the van, which was stockpiled with tools and electrical supplies that had been clanging back and forth.

“I’ll see if there’s a Federales removal device in back.” He carefully climbed out of his seat as they swayed down the road.