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"Steven Sandler," Amelia stated, badge in hand like a talisman. "Was he here?"
The receptionist gave a start, fingers hovering over her keyboard as if afraid to touch it. "Yes, but... he just checked out. Maybe five minutes ago. You must have..."
"Driven past him in the car park," Finn finished for her, and already his mind was sprinting ahead, calculating the time lost, the distance gained by Sandler.
"Damn," Amelia muttered under her breath.
Finn's jaw clenched, the frustration a physical weight within him. This was his shot at redemption, at proving himself once more. Every second delayed was another second Sandler had to slip through their fingers.
“Car details?” Finn asked.
“I'm not sure if I should, it might be...” the receptionist started.
“Ugh, we don't have time for this!” Finn said, swiveling the receptionist's antiquated computer screen around. He looked at the car type and registration, memorized them, then turned to Amelia.
"Thank you," Amelia said curtly to the receptionist, turning back toward the entrance, Finn right on her heels.
"I hope you're in the mood for a car chase!" Finn said with a grin as they darted out of the hotel lobby, the automatic doors wheezing behind them in protest.
The crisp air slapped Finn’s face as they exited, a harsh reminder of the cold trail they could soon be following if they didn’t move fast.
"See if you can put out the word for the number plate," the words were tight, clipped, as though each one cost Finn something to say.
Outside, the gray sky loomed ominously over the car park as they slid into their unmarked police car, its engine coughing to life under Finn's eager start. His fingers gripped the steering wheel, channels of determination etched into his knuckles. The car thrust forward, and they sped on.
Amelia was punching the number plate into the police database on her mobile, her thumb a blur. But Finn's eyes were already scanning, darting between the lines of parked cars, searching for that telltale azure glint of metal.
Something moved towards the road in the distance.
“There!” Amelia pointed.
"Got you," he muttered, eyes locking onto the retreating form of a car that fit the description. It was edging towards the exit, deceptively casual. Finn slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the vehicle leaped forward like a hound released from its leash.
"Careful, Finn," Amelia cautioned as they shot out of the parking lot, barely avoiding a collision with an unsuspecting hatchback. Her voice was steady, but her hand braced against the dashboard betrayed her concern.
Sandler must have caught on and suddenly sped away, fast and direct along the road downhill, towards a wide open expanse of frozen countryside.
"Can't lose him," Finn grunted, swerving around a slow-moving lorry. The world outside blurred into streaks of muted color as they gained on Sandler's car. Each twist and turn was executed with a precision that spoke of Finn's Special Agent training, yet there was a raw edge to his driving now, something desperate and untamed.
"Where do you think you're going, Sandler?" The words were more growl than question, the hunter's mantra echoing in his head.
"Alive, Finn. We need him alive," Amelia reminded him, her gaze fixed on the shrinking gap between them and their quarry. “And I'd like to be alive, too!”
"Right." His grip on the wheel tightened, resolve steeling within him. If there was even the smallest chance that Sandler had information about Max Vilne, if he could lead them to him so Finn could protect his loved ones, then nothing else mattered.
The chase narrowed to a tunnel, a singular purpose from which he couldn't—wouldn't—deviate.
"Watch it!" Amelia's voice snapped him back just in time to avoid clipping the curb as they took another corner at breakneck speed.
"Got it," Finn replied, though his focus was already leaping ahead, plotting the next move in this deadly game of cat and mouse. There was no room for error, not with so much at stake.
Their car ate up the distance, the roar of the engine a testament to Finn's driving and the urgency that propelled them. He could almost feel the vibrations of Sandler's vehicle in his bones, an echo of the chase that thrummed through his veins.
"Almost there..." The words were half prayer, half promise. Finn Wright would not let this killer slip away, not when justice was finally within reach. “I can nudge him off the road.”
The bridge loomed ahead, a narrow steel span arching over the churning river below. Finn's hands were steady as he barreled the car onto the structure, the suspect's vehicle only a breath away, swerving in a desperate bid to shake them.
"Left side, now!" Amelia's command was sharp, her body bracing against the door as Finn veered hard to the left, edging closer to Sandler's fleeing car.
