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Because one of the police cars blocking the street had turned and peeled out after him. He’d been spotted.
Uh-oh.
He turned the wheel right and sped after the Escalade.
They roared down La Jolla Shores Drive, one of the campus’s main thoroughfares. For a stretch, there was an odd mixture of student housing, campus athletic facilities, and multimillion-dollar homes, with residences becoming larger as they neared the campus’s western side that bordered the Pacific Ocean.
BLAM!
A bullet shattered one of his windows. Was the pursuing cop shooting at him?
BLAM!
No. The gunshots were coming from the Escalade’s driver’s side window.
Shit. Time to put some pressure on.
Lynch hit the accelerator hard and rammed the Escalade’s rear bumper.
The larger vehicle swerved from the impact. He knew the tank-like Escalade was unlikely to sustain any real damage, but the hit might be enough to make this bastard put down his gun for a moment.
Lynch rammed it again. Again the Escalade wavered only slightly.
A blinding light lit up the window behind him!
It was the pursuing police car’s roof-mounted spotlight. Its blue flashers were on, and the PA was blaring an unintelligible message.
Probably something about wanting their police car back.
Lynch grabbed the radio mic and raised it to his mouth. “Heads up. I’m assisting the FBI in a murder investigation. I borrowed this squad car in pursuit of a suspect driving the black Cadillac Escalade with California plates 2HXW100.”
The police car rammed him with its push bumper.
Lynch dropped the mic and gripped the wheel with both hands. Either they didn’t get the message, they didn’t believe him, or they didn’t care.
He sped past a series of campus tennis courts and approached the Scripps Institution of Oceanography, a complex of research buildings, a fishery, and a public aquarium.
Lynch cracked his window to listen. More police sirens wailed in the distance. Good.
Two sets of flashers appeared on the road ahead.
The Escalade abruptly turned off the road and swerved around the circular driveway in front of the Birch Aquarium. Lynch and the other police cars followed.
Lynch unsnapped his shoulder holster. The pursuit was going to end here, one way or another.
The Escalade left the driveway and crossed a small pedestrian plaza. It passed the ticket booth and charged through the tall window panels that fronted the building.
Smash!
The Escalade shattered the glass and skidded to a stop in the aquarium’s main atrium. Lynch jumped from the police car and pulled out his automatic.
He moved inside the building, dodging guillotines of glass still falling from the broken panes. To his surprise, there were no audible alarms, just bubbling water in the large interactive exhibit tanks. He held his gun in front of him and approached the wrecked Escalade.
The driver’s side door was open. No one was inside.
“Drop the gun!” The voice came from behind him.
Lynch slowly turned. Four police officers stood just outside the shattered atrium glass, their guns aimed at him.
