Shock Warning by Michael Walsh Read Free Book Online Page B

underground armory. The Heckler & Koch sidearms had been developed for the Navy SEALs and the Army’s Special Forces; at a couple of thousand bucks apiece they were expensive but as reliable as the old Colt 1911 .45 that they had replaced. They ought to be able to handle a single—
    No, make that two trailing vehicles. Whoever was tailing them was good. And they weren’t just tailing anymore. They were getting ready to box the big Caddy and probably flip it. Auto accidents happened every day in the City of the Angels, and even on the surface streets you could get up enough speed to kill yourself if you tried; Third Street in this part of town was one of them. If some other car was forcing you to that speed . . .
    Devlin looked over at Jacinta, but she was too wrapped up in miracle pictures of marigolds to have noticed anything. The driver’s shaded eyes remained on the road.
    One of the trailing cars, a Mercedes with tinted windows, suddenly sped up and pulled even with the backseat. It drove nearly parallel with them for a bit, then dropped back, as if the driver had decided not to try and pass the Caddy after all. Just as it dropped back, Devlin pointed what looked like an Android at them and pressed the button.
    He glanced down at the screen: a complete image of the inside of the vehicle, courtesy of advanced backscatter X-ray technology that Homeland Security had been developing for a couple of years now. The otherwise-useless DHS was using a less sophisticated version in the roving anonymous vans it had deployed on the streets of major American cities; they could scan both vehicles and pedestrians for weapons and explosives involuntarily, Fourth Amendment or no Fourth Amendment. The CSS had simply “borrowed” the technology and, as the liaison with the cryptology divisions of the armed services, had improved and weaponized it based on a prototype he’d developed for use in the field.
    A third car had joined the pursuit, just up ahead at the intersection with Western. He knew it would pull out in front of them and drive them toward the gas station on the southeast corner, and probably right into the pumps. It would make for a hell of an explosion and a great lede for the evening news, unless he did something about it.
    His Android had also taken an electronic reading of the Benz’s vital systems and had hacked into the onboard computer, which meant he could control the vehicle. Down in New Orleans, he’d taken out that poor snoopy reporter’s car on a race down St. Charles by freezing the engine block, which flipped the car; he’d had to go back and risk his life and his identity saving the guy’s sorry ass.
    No worries about that this time. This was enemy action.
    The car up ahead, a new Jag, was making its move, getting ready to turn left into Third Street.
    The Mercedes was pulling up again in the left lane.
    The other car, a Honda, was inching up behind them, getting ready to give them a push from the rear.
    Seconds now.
    A quick glance at the driver—still impassive. He was in on it. He had to be—
    A hidden partition suddenly appeared between front and back, slowly rising.
    They were almost at the intersection....
    For the first time, the driver turned his head to the right, a little smile playing across his lips.
    NOW.
    In practically a single motion, Devlin thwacked the driver behind his right ear, while at the same time pressing a button on the Android. Its steering disabled and its accelerator torqued, the Mercedes spun out to the left, a guided missile headed straight for the Jag.
    The unconscious driver’s foot slipped off the Escalade’s gas pedal, causing the trailing Honda to smash into the much larger vehicle from the read. The sudden jolt knocked the Escalade forward and into the intersection, just as—
    —the Mercedes broadsided the Jaguar—
    —Devlin fired a single shot into the Escalade’s dashboard control panel, stopping the partition—
    —the Honda rammed them again—
    —the