“Let’s go.” He slipped the coin in his pocket and the comm unit into his ear, then hopped on the bike, Cross right behind him. He revved the engine and sped off, heading uptown on FDR. Just as Cross promised, all the traffic lights they encountered turned green for them, and they made it through the highway in record time.
“What’s the plan here?” he shouted as he veered toward the last exit that would take them into the Bronx. “Can’t you just use your magic and poof yourself into their van?”
The device crackled in his ear. “… doesn’t work that way.” Cross’s voice sounded strange coming from the tiny speaker. “I can’t transport myself into a moving vehicle, too dangerous. I think the best thing to do is for you to bring us as close to them as possible and then I might be able to hop onto the roof if I time it right.”
The speaker burst and Ransom cringed in pain as his sensitive hearing blew out. “… traffic at Yankee Stadium,” came the feminine voice. “Yankees were playing the Red Sox tonight, and the game just finished. Idiots!” she clucked her tongue. “You can probably catch them there,” came the feminine voice. “Two brown vans with Delaware license plates. I have a partial on one—ending in three seven nine six.”
“Thanks, Lizzie,” Cross said. “Take Third Avenue,” he directed Ransom. “I’ll show you a shortcut.”
Ransom followed Cross’s directions, zinging around the Bronx’s side streets.
“They just got through the snarl at Jerome,” Lizzie narrated. “Looks like they’re headed north.”
“Probably to Ninety-Five,” Cross guessed. “Keep going. The on-ramp’s just ahead.”
He pushed his bike to its limit when he saw the entrance to the highway. Two dark-colored vans sticking close together merged a few cars ahead of them, and his senses tingled.
“That has to be them,” Cross said. “See if you can get near enough so we can see the plates. But we can’t let them know we’re on to them yet.”
Ransom passed a couple of cars to get closer to the van, but stayed a good distance back.
Cross leaned forward. “That’s it,” he confirmed. “Rear van matches the partial.”
“It’s too busy here,” Ransom said. “We can’t just have you popping up out of nowhere, plus, we’ll cause an accident.”
“Keep following them,” he instructed. “And we’ll wait for the right opportunity.”
As Ransom kept a good distance behind, he heard Cross relaying to HQ what was happening and where they were. His father, who Ransom guessed had the same power as Cross, was on standby to transport himself and backup when they stopped.
The vans continued on until finally, they took an exit somewhere past New Rochelle.
“I know this area,” Cross said as they followed the vehicles. “It’s mostly country clubs and golf courses.”
“We can split up,” Ransom suggested. “You take the rear van, I’ll run after the lead.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cross said. “Just get me as close as you can, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
The road was dark and practically empty, and those guys would realize any second that they were being followed. Adrenaline began to course through his system, and Ransom revved the engine and caught up to the vans.
“Now!” Cross said before he disappeared from the back seat and then reappeared on top of the vans crouching low to keep himself from falling over. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then the van swayed to the side.
Ransom avoided the vehicle and passed it. The lead van had already sped away. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his motorcycle harder. The bulky van was no match for him; but he couldn’t keep chasing them indefinitely. He needed to stop them, but one or both of the pups could be inside. If the van crashed or overturned, they might get hurt or worse, since neither had developed their shifter healing yet.
One of the doors opened, and something zinged over his shoulder, causing him to swerve. “Motherfuckers!” They were shooting at him. Son of a bitch! He slowed down and dropped back, far away enough so the humans wouldn’t be able to shoot at him, but he could still track them.
What the fuck was he going to do now? Even if he forced the van off the road safely, there could be any number of men inside there with guns. He’d survive a gunshot or two, but if they pumped him full of bullets, that would be the end.
A loud screech rang out from up ahead, but the adrenaline in his system only made him push his bike harder. The van loomed up ahead as it was stopped in the middle of the road. What was going on? He hit the brakes and skidded to a stop on the shoulder.
The back of the van opened up, and armed men in combat gear poured out. From out of the dark shadows, three large wolves jumped out, startling the men and sending them into a panic.
Ransom felt his wolf push for the surface, and he let it take over as he hurtled toward the melee. Growls and snarls, punctured by human screams and shouts, were all around as he transformed fully into his wolf form. It lunged forward, smashing into the nearest human and tearing into its shoulder. Though the thick protective gear stopped the wolf’s teeth from ripping the man’s body in half, it still delivered a monumental amount of pain as evidenced by the man’s screams of agony before he passed out.
Satisfied the man was no longer a threat, the wolf released him and looked around for its next victim. A bullet whizzed by, and the animal turned its head. One of the men was shooting blindly in the dark at anything that moved.
Idiot! Ransom screamed from inside his wolf’s head.
His wolf lunged for the man immediately, stopping him from firing any more bullets. Its large maw went straight for
