The Cold Trail by J C Fields

Author:J C Fields [Fields, J C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Paperback-Press
Published: 2018-06-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Washington, DC

“He’s three cars behind you. Do you see him?”

“Yeah, white Ford Fusion.”

Kruger was on his cell phone with Gibbs. Despite his history of detesting FBI pool cars and renting Mustangs when in D.C., he was glad to be driving an agency vehicle tonight. It was an aging Dodge Charger with over a hundred thousand miles, but it gave him access to a radio.

“That’s the one,” Gibbs replied. “He’s been with you since you left the Grand-Hyatt.”

“He was in the Starbucks, middle of the room against the wall, right?”

“That’s him.” Gibbs was four cars behind the Fusion in a Chevy Equinox, his cell phone funneled through the vehicle’s hands-free option. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s have a conversation with him.”

“Love to. How?”

“I’ll call in reinforcements; they’re a mile behind us. Stay on the call.”

“Got it.”

Traffic on Suitland Parkway, at this time of day, was close to gridlock. The slow flow of cars and trucks suited Kruger’s plan. Minutes ticked by, and traffic crawled forward. Ten minutes later, he noticed a black Chevy Suburban in his rearview mirror approaching the white Fusion on its right. Jimmie Gibbs’ Equinox was also inching forward, positioning itself directly behind the target car.

He keyed the mic on the agency car, putting him in touch with the agents in the Suburban, “I’m going to slow down and let the car behind me pass. When it does, I’ll stop, and we execute the plan.”

“Roger, will follow your lead.”

Slowing the Charger down allowed several of the cars between him and the Fusion to pass. Finally, the Toyota Camry behind him blasted its horn, found an opening in the right lane, and sped around on his right. As he passed, the Camry driver flipped Kruger the bird and sped on. The Fusion was now positioned directly behind Kruger, with the Suburban on its right, the Equinox hugging its bumper, and a guardrail on the left.

Kruger slammed on the brakes.

When the Charger skidded to a halt, the trapped Ford Fusion stopped just before colliding with the rear bumper of the Dodge. At the same time, the Suburban turned on its hidden emergency lights, stopping inches from the right side of the Ford. With Gibbs stopped against the rear bumper of the Ford, the driver had nowhere to go. He had just enough room to open the driver side door, which he kept closed for the moment.

Kruger drew his Glock, opened the door, and took a Weaver stance, his weapon pointed at the stopped Ford.

Gibbs exited the Equinox and stood behind the open SUV door, his Sig Sauer drawn and pointed at the driver’s side of the Fusion. An agent in the black Suburban stood behind the engine compartment, his service weapon drawn and pointed at the car.

“FBI,” Kruger yelled. “Out of the car now. Hands above your head.”

The driver glared at Kruger, then shifted his attention to the agent standing behind the Suburban’s engine compartment. Finally, after looking back at Gibbs, he returned his focus to Kruger.

Cars jammed up on the freeway as drivers craned their necks to see what was going on.

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