Red drove fast, his eyes fixed on the road, pushing the car to its limit. His mind could only think of Ashley and the van he’d heard about through his earpiece.

"They took a left," came a voice, and without question, Red yanked the wheel.

The tires screeched, leaving dark streaks across the concrete. Smoke rose from the rubber, but he didn’t slow down. Red kept driving until he spotted the plateless van in the distance.

"Found it," he reported, hand on his earpiece. "We’re going to tail it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, several voices from the other teams came through. He ignored them, slapping the earpiece away and keeping his focus on the vehicle ahead.

Seated beside him, Tank was already assembling a rifle. He snapped his eyes up, tracking the van from a distance in case Red lost sight of it.

Three cars in total were heading this way; the others had spread out to cover all possible routes.

"Tank," Red murmured, and Tank nodded.

As Red picked up speed, Tank lowered his window. The van was far ahead, moving just as fast, and kept swerving between lanes.

Keeping himself steady despite the speed, Tank peered through his scope and aimed at the van’s tires.

"I don’t have a clear shot," Tank said.

"Fucking —" Red hissed through gritted teeth, slapping the steering wheel.

Tank pulled back instinctively as Red began overtaking cars on the highway. He listened to the reports coming through the earpiece, glancing to the side as several members of Dominion raced past them.

"They’re entering a residential district," came a report.

Hearing that, they both knew Ashley’s abductors were gaining the upper hand. Dominion had only just moved into the country. This was not their territory. Everyone knew how reckless this decision was, but there was no time to dwell on that.

Red, along with the other two cars, followed the van that was now several dozen vehicles ahead. Then it turned abruptly, drawing honks and curses from other drivers. Neither side slowed down.

If anything, they all pushed harder, adrenaline taking over.

Once they entered the residential area, they quickly realized it was a densely packed district. Tank clicked his tongue as Red was forced to ease off the gas, watching the van ahead nearly mow down pedestrians on the street.

"Damn it..." Red breathed, glancing at the cars behind him. He reached for his earpiece. "Hey, you go —"

"Shit!"

CRASH!

Just as Red was about to redirect them, a crash came through the line. With two cars following behind, he figured it was the last one that had been hit.

Red hissed and refocused on the road. "Reroute. Leave the others."

The car behind them immediately peeled off onto a side street.

"Hey, get us a visual —"

"Red, there are no CCTVs in the area," came Gin’s weak voice in the earpiece. "Keep your eyes on the van. We’re blind right now."

"Fuck!" Red shouted. Tank’s expression darkened beside him.

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t known this was coming. For whoever was behind this to have stayed in disguise for hours — this was the work of a meticulous, organized group. This had been planned from the start, including the escape route.

"I’ll try to close the distance," Red breathed, jaw tightening. "Shoot them."

Tank nodded, ready to fire even without a clean shot.

Red floored it again, driving recklessly through the narrow streets and taking the same turns the van had taken, barely catching a glimpse of it rounding each corner just as they did.

For a brief stretch, they lost sight of the van entirely until they made another turn.

Their car burst out of the district streets and onto a freeway. As soon as they did, Red caught sight of the white van.

Tank grabbed his rifle, crawled toward the open window, and looped his leg around the seatbelt strap to anchor himself. He sat perched on the window frame, half his body hanging out, rifle raised.

HONK! HONK!

"Hey, do you know how to drive?!" The driver they had nearly clipped pulled up alongside them, window down, ready to start something.

Then he saw Tank hanging out with a rifle. He wrenched his wheel into the farthest lane and pulled over immediately, white-knuckled.

"What the heck?" the driver paled, almost getting himself killed for confronting an armed person.

BANG!

Cars on the freeway scattered at the sight of Tank opening fire. No one wanted any part of this. With that, it cleared the road slightly.

Tank hissed and fired again.

Can’t get a clean hit, he thought, watching the rounds strike what were clearly bulletproof windows. This is bad.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he spotted a red light up ahead. Tank quickly pulled himself back inside, knowing what Red was about to do. As soon as he was seated, their car was already barreling toward the intersection at full speed.

Tank held his breath while Red emptied his mind.

If we lose them here, things get a lot more complicated, Red thought. That woman — why the hell didn’t she scream for help?

It wasn’t to blame Ashley, not really. It was frustration, not because she’d been taken right under their noses, but that his entire body was trembling at the thought that someone had dared to abduct the madam of Dominion.

"Red," Tank breathed, watching the light. "It’s going red."

Red didn’t respond. He didn’t slow down even as the cross-traffic began to move.

The van had already cleared the intersection. They couldn’t fall behind over a red light. Red slammed the pedal down harder, cutting through the intersection as horns blared from every direction.

But just when they were almost successful, a deafening impact stopped everything.

Their bodies lurched forward as something slammed into the back of the car. The rear windshield shattered. The car spun across the road, tires screaming, smoke billowing, until it finally ground to a stop.

Fortunately, the adjacent lane had been clear. So, there were no more collisions.

"Hah... hah..."

Silence settled over the car while Red and Tank sat motionless, panting, staring blankly ahead — the shattered rear windshield forgotten behind them.

They’d lost the van.

"Fuck!!!" Red drove his fist into the steering wheel, the horn blaring as he screamed. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Tank said nothing. He turned and looked back, watching the car that had hit them speed away — bumper hanging half off, but not stopping.

That’s not a coincidence, Tank realized.

That car was waiting for us.