“This afternoon,” McCoy said from behind the wheel. “It’s fine.”

“You’d be better avoiding stretches like this,” he said.

“What?”

“We’re boxed. If they come at us on a road like this, there isn’t going to be anywhere to go.”

McCoy glared at Milton in the mirror. “You think we haven’t done this before?”

“I don’t know,” Milton said. “Maybe you have; maybe you haven’t. Either way, it doesn’t mean you’re immune to making mistakes. And this isn’t safe.”

“Agent Flowers, will you please tell your English friend to shut the fuck up?”

Ellie reached over and laid a hand on Milton’s leg. He turned to look at her and she gave him a smile and a slight shake of her head. Milton drew in a breath, trying to ignore the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

They reached a crossroads. They had right of way and McCoy kept them moving. Milton saw a yellow hatchback approaching and held his breath until it stopped. He stared at it, the sodium yellow from a streetlamp directly overhead catching against the glass and rendering it opaque. He had a moment of concern that the car might accelerate and crash into them from the side, but it didn’t; instead, the driver brought it to a stop and waited.

They negotiated the crossroads and continued to the east, following the same one-way road.

* * *

Hicks brought the hatchback to a halt at the junction and watched as the two cars rolled in front of him. A Chevrolet Captiva in the lead with a Renault Duster just behind it. It was dark, but he thought he could see Milton in the back of the Captiva.

He put the car into gear and turned right, following behind the Duster.

“They’re in a Chevy Captiva and a Renault Duster,” Hicks reported. “Registrations MXU 689 and GMO 140.”

“Copy that,” Ziggy said.

“What about Milton?” Chase asked.

“I got eyes on. He’s in the lead car. There are at least three in the Chevy and another three in the Duster.”

“Got it.”

“We don’t know who he’s with. We don’t know whether he needs us or not.”

“He’s with the cartel,” Chase said. “Gotta be—right?”

“I don’t know,” Hicks said, biting his lip a little. “I saw the driver. He didn’t look local.”

He noticed the lights of a car coming up behind him in the outside lane.

“So we follow along until we know what’s happening?” Chase said.

“Where are you?”

“Calle 32B.”

“He’s parallel with you,” Ziggy clarified.

“Stay close. Hicks out.”