Black Rain

Behind them the headlights of two cars swung into the alleyway. “Here they come,” Hawker yelled, shouting to be heard above the noise pouring into the cabin where the windshield had been.

Danielle heard but didn’t reply. The same airflow that made it hard to hear was wreaking havoc on her eyes. She squinted against the wind, blinking away the tears. She spotted a marker: Ave de Setembro—the main road out of the harbor. She cranked the wheel over and the tires bit into the street, squealing and sliding. A moment later, they shot out onto the open road.

Danielle floored the accelerator again, but this time the Rover picked up only a little extra speed and then the engine started to labor. The needle touched a hundred twenty kph and then began an ominous slide backward.

“Fuel or air,” Hawker yelled.

“I’m thinking air,” she shouted. “Mainly because we’re not on fire.”

“Not yet anyway,” he said.

The Rover had begun chugging like an old steam train, gaining speed for a few seconds and then faltering further. In the mirror, Danielle saw the two cars swerve onto the road a mile behind. She coaxed more speed from the vehicle by pumping the throttle, but the cars were clearly gaining. “Any thoughts?”

“Head into town,” Hawker said. “We have to find a crowd.”

Danielle took the first turn that would bring them into the heart of the city, and three blocks later turned again.

The turns had two effects: they reduced the Rover’s speed, which made it run more smoothly, and they reduced the rate at which their pursuers were gaining, as they had to slow down for the same turns.

In another minute, they were nearing the center of town, weaving in and out of calmer traffic.

“We need to ditch this thing,” Hawker said.

Danielle looked for a spot that might offer some cover. She passed two streets and an empty lot and then swerved down a narrow alleyway populated by trash cans, Dumpsters and uneven stacks of wooden pallets. She drove halfway down the alley, turned the vehicle sideways and slammed on the brakes, bringing it to a skidding halt.

Hawker bolted out the door before they’d even fully stopped, shouting at her to follow.

She jumped from the car, making her way around the vehicle as their pursuers came barreling down the road. The noise of their engines filled the alleyway and the light from their high beams climbed the walls like a specter, but the sound of screeching tires came next as the two cars skidded to a halt. They could not fit past the Rover. They’d have to move it, back out, or follow on foot. And with the keys in Danielle’s pocket, the first choice was not really an option. She raced around the corner without looking back.

“This way,” Hawker said.

They were out on the main drag, moving along the sidewalk, mixing with the pedestrians. It was Friday night and the bars and cafés were jammed to capacity, the sidewalks teeming with the overflow. But Hawker and Danielle were dressed differently than the clubgoers in their bright, revealing outfits. After all, it was summer in Brazil. “We have to get off the street,” she said.

“I know,” Hawker replied, pressing forward, his eyes searching for something. “Keep moving. I know a place.”

Hawker pushed through the crowd with Danielle right behind him, leading her to a nightclub at the center of the district with a line of people waiting for a chance to enter. A doorman stood at the entrance, flanked by two muscular bouncers. The doorman greeted Hawker with a smile and one of the bouncers shook his hand.

In a moment, Hawker and Danielle were upstairs, seated at a private table on the club’s open-air balcony, a spot that gave them some respite from the pounding music inside and, more important, offered an excellent view of the main entrance and the crowded street below.

Danielle watched in silence for several minutes, waiting for cars filled with armed men to come flying up to the front doors. She put her hand casually to her ankle to make sure her weapon was accessible and then slid her leg under the table and out of view.

Hawker exhaled deeply and looked right at her. “You want to tell me again about this archaeological expedition?”

CHAPTER 7

Danielle ignored his question. She looked around. The club was not that crowded, not yet. It was certainly not as busy as the street below, but the movement was still chaotic enough that there would be little chance to spot a threat until it was right on top of them. “Why did you bring me here?”

“These guys are friends of mine,” he said.

She waited for a better explanation.

“I did a favor for the owner once,” he added grudgingly, as if that explained everything.

“What kind of favor?”

“His daughter was taken from him. I brought her back.”

Danielle went quiet, imagining the scenario and guessing that such an act would buy a good measure of loyalty. “And the men who took her?”

Hawker shook his head slowly.

“Some favor.”

“Trust me,” he said, “no one’s getting to us unannounced.”