Ellie watched through the rear windshield. “The Dodge isn’t moving.”

The minivan was stuck at the junction. The roadworks meant that there was only one lane of traffic and the Dodge was obstructing it, with no way around on either side. She heard the honk of the Duster’s horn, but it didn’t generate any movement in the minivan. She could see the driver as he raised his hand out of the window in apology. Had it stalled?

* * *

Number Six hit the gas and came out of the junction. The Dodge was on her left, blocking the road and trapping the Duster behind it. The Chevy was on her right, moving away from the junction. She accelerated until her Toyota had closed the distance.

She glanced down at the drone’s control unit. She had placed it on the passenger seat so that she was able to see the screen. The drone was programmed to triangulate off the Chevrolet, and she was able to look down from a thousand feet and observe the procession as it made its way through the quiet streets. She could see all of the relevant vehicles: the Chevy, marked with a bright white reticule; the Duster, marked in orange; the Dodge Journey blocking the road.

“Channel, this is Six,” she said into the radio. “Package is heading to the box.”

* * *

McCoy said something on the radio, but Ellie missed it. Her attention was drawn to the Toyota Fortuner that had come out of the junction that they had just crossed and accelerated until it was behind them. A woman was driving.

“They’re boxing you,” Milton protested. “When’s the next turn?”

“We’re not turning off.”

Milton had been following their route on the vehicle’s satnav. “Up ahead on the right,” he said, pointing. “Calle 32 goes east and west. Loop around in the direction we’ve come from and plot another route.”

“I told you,” McCoy snapped, “it’s fine. Agent—tell your friend to sit still and shut up.”

“They’re boxing you.”

McCoy slapped his hand against the wheel.

“Get off the road now,” Milton urged.

“Shit!” McCoy swore.

Ellie turned to look forward.

She saw a flash of motion through the windshield.

“Look out!”

A large white van came out of the junction ahead of them. McCoy hit the brakes and the Chevy’s wheels locked, the tyres squealing as the sudden deceleration left rubber on the asphalt. Ellie and Milton were pitched forward, caught by the snap of their seatbelts. McCoy grunted, his head thumping against the wheel before the momentum bounced him back in his seat.