Monday. National Mall. Washington, DC.
KILLAM DIDN'T HAVE THE luxury of being careful. He jogged through and past people, constantly aware of the ticking clock.
How much time was left? How much had he wasted on that kid? Was Ivy okay? Had she found her target?
It would have been ideal if they could have coordinated moving in on their two targets at the same time. In reality, Killam knew what the end result would be.
He couldn't disarm whatever was under the car. Not like Ivy could. He hadn't exactly decided what he was going to do. It all boiled down to time that wasn't on his side.
Like usual, he'd figure it out as he went.
Killam cut toward the curb and slowed, his gaze searching through the crowd.
There.
Something glinted red.
His heart fell.
Of course it would be red.
The other two cars were fakes. Expensive cars, but not what their packaging promised. The red Lamborghini Aventador was exactly what it pretended to be.
Killam glanced over his shoulder.