same time, and Mrs. Carvalho
screamed as the front door crashed into the wall. Chloe went still
as enraged voices mixed with Miguél's came from the living room. A
gun fired, and Mrs. Carvalho screamed again, Chloe, too.
Chloe covered her ears and went to her knees
just as Jericho pushed her to the side, sending her tumbling into
the washroom behind the partial wall. Chloe quickly pulled her
knees into her chest and closed her eyes tight, her hands returning
over her ears.
Jericho fired his weapon three times, but
came quickly back to block Chloe. She peeped at his back.
There was a small pause of silence.
"Go, go!" Miguél shouted as he slammed the
door.
Jericho helped Chloe up, and she dusted
herself off. Miguél pulled out a pistol of his own and ran to
Jericho, pushing a clear bag with the fake IDs and passports into
his hand. "You were never here," he said urgently. To his wife, he
called, "Take the children down into the basement."
"Come on," Jericho said to Chloe, steadying
her as he turned them to the back exit.
She shook violently as she still tried to
look into the other room behind her. "Those men, are they dead?"
she asked, watching Mrs. Carvalho urge her children on.
"Most assuredly. We don’t have any time to
waste. When the police radioed that bike in … I don’t know how the
hell they figured out that bike had anything to do with us. Someone
had to have been listening to the police frequency is all I can
guess."
Chloe stumbled along, not understanding what
was happening, but Jericho stopped her just before the backdoor and
motioned for her to stay there. Chloe looked over her shoulder and
saw Mrs. Carvalho taking the children into the basement. Tears
began to streak Chloe's face for their fear. Fear brought there by
Jericho and herself.
Jericho pushed the door open, gun drawn. A
man was near the stoop in a police uniform, and Jericho brought the
butt of his weapon down on the man's head before he could turn
around. The dark-skinned officer fell to the ground, and Jericho
instantly pulled Chloe out the door. She stumbled down the steps
after him.
"How good a runner are you?" he asked.
Chloe winced. "I'm passable," she said
shakily.
"Hey, not the time for that," he said. "Save
your emotions for later. Draw off your fear. Don’t let it eat
you."
Chloe shook her head vigorously. "Just tell
me they will be okay."
"Miguél is a wise man. He didn't spend years
with the CIA and learn nothing."
That made Chloe feel better, just a little
bit.
Jericho dropped her hand and started running
at an even pace, Chloe on his heels. She glanced behind them once
as they came to a corner, and Jericho looked around to make sure
they were clear.
Chloe's feet pounded on the pavement, and
her breath grew labored. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of
screeching tires behind them.
"Faster," Jericho shouted.
Chloe picked up her pace, struggling. She'd
always said she would take up running when someone or something was
chasing her, never thinking it would happen, nor did she have any
intentions to give anyone reason to chase her.
Jericho reached out for her, guiding her
into an alley. They ran to the end where Chloe crashed into
Jericho's back when he stopped. He quickly looked out into the
small shopping district, and then pulled her into his side as they
entered the busy street.
This thoroughfare reminded Chloe of the
street she had followed the gold sedan through, tight and flooded
with many pedestrians, vendor carts, and merchandise racks spilling
from businesses. The street was loud with many voices and varying
music from block to block.
An easy place to get lost in a crowd.
Chloe smelled roasting
meat from a food vendor where two women stood at a plume of smoke
from a grill that they had just tossed skewers on. As she and
Jericho circled a group, she nearly bumped into another cart
selling Tapioca omelets. She'd tried one
filled with ham and cheese in Rio her first day in
Brazil.
Chloe glanced behind