Andrew gripped the wheel tighter as the SUV took a sudden turn down a side street. He followed, keeping just far enough behind to avoid drawing attention. His old hatchback rattled with every bump, and the check engine light blinked accusingly on the dash.
“They just turned onto Maple—approaching old motel row,” he said into the phone. “Still no visible plates, but it’s a black Chevy Suburban. I’m in a silver Civic, keeping distance.” “Copy that,” the dispatcher said. “Units are closing in from multiple directions. You’re doing great.”