“I say we skip the airport transportation and walk,” she said, slipping the backpack on. “We’ll get our phones out of storage and head back on different airlines.”

“Sounds about right,” Smith said, getting out and slamming the door. “The Gremlin’s not getting a detail and a full tank, huh?”

“First time ever,” Randi said. “I must be slipping.”

She started across the road toward the terminal and the moment she did, a high-pitched engine whine started to their right. Smith watched her spin, pulling a Beretta from beneath her jacket and bringing it level with the windshield of the Prius suddenly bearing down on them.

Randi had a gift for that kind of reaction. There was no time lag at all between her mind perceiving danger and her body dealing with that danger in the most efficient—and final—way possible. It was undoubtedly why she was still alive, but sometimes the speed of her instinct caused her to miss details.

Smith darted into the road, ignoring the pain in his back as he launched himself at her. He knew that her mind had transformed the human outline in the driver’s seat into nothing more than a target and that she was thinking only about how to hit that target in the most effective way possible. What he saw, though, was a terrified woman jerking desperately on an unresponsive steering wheel.

It was over in less than two seconds. He hit Randi broadside and they both toppled toward the row of cars parked behind her. Smith got clipped by the Prius’s front quarter panel, but the metal was so thin that it did little more than send him sprawling awkwardly onto the pavement.

Randi managed not to fall, instead slamming into the back of a Nissan Pathfinder just as the Prius jumped a sidewalk and rolled onto its top. She recovered quickly, turning a full 360 with her pistol held out in front of her, searching for a secondary attack. Around them, pedestrians were dropping their luggage and running in every direction, undoubtedly thinking this was the beginning of some kind of terrorist attack or mass shooting.

“What the hell, Jon!” Randi said, finally daring to glance down at him as he struggled to get back to his feet. “You could have—”

The empty Nissan she was standing behind suddenly started up and Smith saw the reverse lights flash on. This time her reactions were dulled by confusion and she was a split second too slow. The engine gunned and she went down, disappearing beneath the vehicle.

“Randi!” Smith shouted as the Nissan slammed into a Volkswagen in the next row. He bolted toward her, hearing the Pathfinder shift into drive for another try.