The Midas Code

Cavano could hijack a car driving by, but it would never be able to keep up with the Ferrari. Then she remembered the exotic car dealership, the same one that had brokered her purchase of the Ferrari.

She whirled around and saw the truck delivering cars for the dealership. Two were already parked on the street, a yellow Lamborghini Gallardo and a black Pagani Zonda. Both of them were supercars at least the equal of her 458 Italia.

Cavano waved to her men and pointed at the cars.

“Let’s go!” she yelled.

A salesman from the car dealership was inspecting the cars. Cavano ran to the driver’s door of the Zonda and opened it.

The salesman started yelling in German.

“What are you doing?”

Sal jumped into the passenger seat of the Zonda, while the other two took the Lamborghini. The keys were still in both cars.

The Lamborghini took off after Locke, leaving the salesman screaming at them.

Cavano started the Zonda and revved the twelve cylinders to the redline.

“Tell your boss Gia Cavano just bought these cars,” she said to the salesman through the open window in her passable German.

The salesman sputtered in amazement, but Cavano didn’t wait to hear his response. She threw the Zonda into gear and laid down a patch of rubber twenty yards long.

THIRTY-SIX

W ith a yellow Lamborghini in the rearview mirror, Tyler knew his escape wasn’t over. It had to be the one he’d seen as he exited the garage, which meant that Cavano wasn’t giving up on her Ferrari that easily.

He had hoped to find a good place to ditch the car and make their escape on foot into Munich’s U-Bahn subway, but the rush-hour traffic had slowed them enough to allow their pursuers to catch up. Because he and Stacy were unarmed, a footrace would be suicidal. And going to the police wasn’t an option after trashing the garage, killing a man, and stealing a car.

“Oh, my God!” Stacy shouted above the roar of the engine. “You’re bleeding!” She took off her sweater and pressed it against his arm.

Tyler winced. In the escape he’d forgotten about the gunshot wound, but now the pain in his shoulder howled.

“I’ll be fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“It looks like you got shot! Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I saw a wrecked car in the garage. What the hell happened? Why are we in Cavano’s car?”

“Had a little trouble getting into the BMW. Pietro surprised me.”

The traffic slowed ahead, so Tyler cranked the wheel to the right, turning onto a street called Steinsdorfstrasse that ran alongside the river. Stacy squealed as he weaved through the traffic, occasionally zooming into the oncoming lane when he saw an opening.

Now she’d get an idea of what it had been like for him on the horse. Using the paddle shifters, Tyler had complete control, as if he were part of the car. Stacy, on the other hand, looked distinctly unhappy as she struggled to keep from getting thrown back and forth.

“Put your seat belt on,” Tyler said. “This could get dicey.”

She snapped the belt into place. “Dicier than this?”

“Could be.”

Tyler couldn’t put any distance between them and the Lamborghini, which had now been joined by a black Pagani Zonda.

“Did you get the geolabe?” Stacy asked.

“It’s got to be in the front boot.”

“Where are we going?”

He had to get out of these narrow streets. They could corner him if he ran into a traffic jam.

A blue sign flashed by depicting a highway overpass and an arrow toward 95.

The autobahn. The sleek sports cars following them were a match for the Ferrari. Outrunning them would be next to impossible, but the open highway was better than a city traffic jam.

He gave Stacy his phone.

“Call Grant and tell him to head this way.”

“But he’ll never catch us.”

“Just tell him that we’re getting onto the 95.”

As she dialed, Tyler thought about the evidence he’d left behind in the garage. Now he was glad he’d worn the gloves. If he had been successful in keeping his face out of sight of the cameras, there would be nothing leading back to him.

Of course, none of that would matter if Cavano and her men caught up with them.

He passed through an intersection just as the light turned red, but that didn’t deter the Zonda and the Lamborghini. Horns honking, they blew through.

The Ferrari’s gas gauge read more than half full. Cavano must have filled up before she arrived in Munich, which sparked a brainstorm for how to get out of this mess.

Tyler’s plan was simple. At high speed, these cars all gulped fuel at a prodigious rate. Because the Lambo and the Zonda were being delivered to a dealer, Tyler was sure that they had only a token amount of gas in their tanks. If he could stay ahead of them long enough, they would run out before he did. Then he could leisurely plan a place to rendezvous with Grant.

On the phone, Stacy said, “No, he’s busy trying to kill us. Where are you… On the road?… Thank God.” To Tyler, she said, “He got the Audi. The police got there just after he took off. He says Cavano’s driving the Zonda, and she looked pissed.”