Page 107 of Goose

The Bank was in the perfect location. At the north side of San Diego, in Torrey Pines, it was mere feet off Carmel Mountain Road. All we had to do was drive a mile and a half, get on the 5, and head south. In fifteen minutes, we’d be in the clubhouse, counting money.

We turned onto Carmel Mountain Road. Soon, Baker pulled in behind us.

“I don’t know what’s in those boxes,” Reno said. “But there’s a lot of it, whatever it is.”

Ally proceeded toward Ted Williams Freeway, which was our access to take the 5 southbound without sitting at traffic lights. Left turns while attempting to evade, according to Ally, were a no-no.

Watching her drive was similar to seeing her manipulate the lock on a bank vault. Her eyes darted from the road ahead to the rearview mirror, then to each side view mirror.

As if she was preprogrammed, Ally repeated the same process, over and over. Our heavy breathing was the only sound inside the vehicle. Seeming unaffected by it, she tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of an unknown song.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her eyes locked on the rearview mirror. “Someone came in behind Baker.”

“From where?” I asked.

“Don’t turn around,” she demanded, her tone thick with authority. “Anyone. Eyes straight ahead. Until I say otherwise.”

With her eyes fixed on the mirror, she began to push buttons on the steering wheel. In an almost robotic gesture, she blindly reached toward the console and pushed a button without so much as taking her eyes off the mirror.

“What’s going—”

“Quiet,” she snapped. “Nobody. Say. Anything.”

Something was going on, and I had no idea what it was. She’d instructed each of us to stare straight ahead, yet her eyes were fixed on the mirror, which provided her a full view of whatever was behind us.

“Come on, Baker. Come on,” she said beneath her breath. “Pick him up. Pick him up.”

“Buckle up, boys,” she said. “Shit’s about to get—”

The piercing sound of a siren caused me to nearly piss my pants. Red and blue lights illuminated the pitch-black sky.

“—Real!” The car took off like it had been shot out of a cannon. “Reno!” She shouted. “Take the left window. Anything out that window I need to now about, tell me. Cash! Take the right. Keep your heads by the B pillars. Tito! Keep your head low. Goose! Recline your seat until your head is beside the B pillar. Keep your eyes on the road ahead. Anyone tries to come up on my right, let me know.”

I had no idea what a B pillar was, but I reclined my seat and hoped like hell no one started shooting.

“Everyone. When you can, get your weapons cocked and locked,” she said. “Make sure you’re on safety, and ready to go.”

My throat went dry. I swallowed against it.

Jesus fucking Christ.

As Ally took a sweeping right turn at the speed of sound, I reached for my Walther. The lights continued to flash behind us, eerily illuminated the interior of the SUV.

Our entrance to the highway was a mile and a half ahead. We didn’t have much distance to lose the cop before we were going to have to slow down to get on the highway.

My throat constricted so profoundly I could barely take a breath. Ally on the other hand, seemed calm, despite the fact that she was in a high-speed chase. The slight grin she wore led me to believe she was enjoying it.

“We’re taking this entrance, fellas,” she said. “Hold on.”

We were passing the on ramp to the 5, which was on our left. That particular entrance to the highway went north, not south. I glanced at the speedometer. We were going roughly 120 miles an hour and were steadily gaining speed.

We were traveling three times the safe speed limit to take any ramp.

“What entrance?!” I shouted.

“This one!” Instead of slowing down for the corner, she punched the gas. The vehicle went into a four-wheel slide, gaining speed as it headed toward the ramp.

My stomach heaved.