“Do not draw attention to your driving,” Pablo said, “but get us to the airport without delay.”

The driver checked the route on the truck’s navigation screen: it angled across the city toward the airport on the northeast side of town. Glancing constantly in the mirror for police lights, he paid little attention to the small utility van that followed a short distance behind.

As they approached the city center, the streets became more congested. The pickup’s driver turned east, down a street called Plaza El Toreo, where the dirty sidewalks were swarming with people. As he dodged some jaywalkers, the pickup hit a large pothole, which sent the crate bouncing on the truck bed.

Following close behind, Pitt and Giordino saw the unsecured box move.

Giordino rubbed his chin. “What do you suppose is in there that’s causing all the excitement?”

“I wish I knew.” Pitt had to suppress his anger over leading the crew of the Drake into a dangerous situation without any advance warning.

Giordino pointed at the truck. “If you pull alongside the bed, I might just be able to grab hold of that thing.”

Pitt considered the idea. Driving a wanted vehicle, and with no weapons, they had little chance of overpowering the men in the pickup. Their options were limited, if not suicidal. “Maybe we could negotiate a swap for Ann,” he said, “if they don’t kill us outright.”

They had the advantage of being in a crowded city, one with a sketchy reputation. Giordino agreed it was worth the risk.

Pitt kept the van close to the pickup’s rear bumper, waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic so he could pull alongside. The vehicles reached a stop sign, which Pitt eased past without stopping. He was chagrined to look up and see a police car passing in the opposite direction.

He held his gaze ahead as the car passed, then tracked it in his mirror. The police car rapidly made a three-point turn on the narrow street, nearly flinging a boy off a motorbike.

“I think we’ve been made,” Pitt said.

Giordino rolled down his window. “Then let’s at least get something for our trouble.”

Pitt edged closer to the truck as lights erupted behind him.

The police car tried to fight its way across the intersection, but a semitrailer truck had turned in front of it, slowly navigating through a tight turn. Pitt looked ahead, waiting for a battered Isuzu to pass in the other lane before catching a gap in the oncoming traffic. Flooring the accelerator, he surged into the other lane and pulled alongside the truck. Giordino leaned out the side window and thrust his arms into the bed, grasping for the crate.