Pebbles skittered off my windshield as I spun my cruiser around the bend, coming way

too close to plummeting off the edge.

I yanked the wheel to the right and tried to steady the car.

I could hear my tires chewing up the dirt, feel the rumble as the cruiser left man-made

pavement for the crude rocky soil of the mountain path.

Pan again, if you try a maneuver like that again I will fucking murder you!

I left it the walk into my mouth.

Roger that, Sheriff.

I'll leave the fancy tricks to the pros.

I want to catch this guy as much as you, Hanigan, said Marconi's crackling voice.

But if it comes down to his life or yours, I expect you to choose your own pansy-ass,

Capiche?

Loud and clear.

Place the walkie down and try to focus on the road ahead.

Marlow's car had a few hundred feet on mine, but I could see it each time I rounded

another corner of the mountain.

A beaten blue Ford slipping between the trees, rumbling like its engine was stuffed with

rocks.

It was a miracle that piece of shit had been fallen apart by now.

I rumbled over the bumpy trail as fast as I dared.

Marconi was right.

It wasn't worth it to blow a tire or go creaning into a tree for this guy no matter what he'd

...