Priscilla screamed as Mac wrenched the wheel to miss a collision with a minivan hurtling toward them from the right. Their SUV skidded as Mac fought to bring the vehicle under control.

      “Watch out! He’s coming again!” Mac maneuvered the car onto Wilson Boulevard, a one-way thoroughfare, just as the SUV shook with another hit from behind. Metal screeched as the other vehicle seemed to push the SUV along. Mac struggled to keep the SUV moving forward in the left lane. A shopping center parking lot entrance loomed on the left, and Mac swerved into it.

      Hands shaking, Priscilla looked behind her in time to take a mental snapshot of the battered pickup zooming away, its license plate smeared with mud. Mac eased the SUV into the parking lot of an Asian supermarket, picking a spot away from other cars.

      “Everyone okay?” Mac put the SUV into Park.

      “I’m all right.” Priscilla looked at Luc, who offered a tiny shrug. “Mr. Langsdale’s hanging in as well.”

      “Good. We’d better get moving again.” Mac put his hand on the ignition as sirens wailed closer. “Looks like someone called the cops.”

      Priscilla twisted around to see two police cruisers pull into the parking lot and head toward their SUV. Her stomach flip-flopped. Mac had told her that local law enforcement wasn’t always cooperative with marshals and their witnesses. She didn’t want to wait for the officers to question them and fill out paperwork—she wanted to get as far away from Fairfax, Virginia, as she could to a safer location.

      The cruisers parked behind them. Mac disconnected his phone from the console and dialed a number, telling whoever answered, “We’re in a spot of trouble.” He detailed the incident, describing the truck and their location with precision.

      Luc nudged her shoulder.

      Priscilla jerked her head toward him, her hands wrapped tightly together.

      “Are you okay?” He nodded toward her jiggling knee. “You seem very agitated. Surely that truck driver is long gone, and we have two police cruisers parked right behind us.”

      How could she explain that none of that mattered, not if the person who was after her decided today was the day he would finally end her life? She stilled her leg. “You don’t understand. We need to get out of here, not stay like sitting ducks.”

      Mac put down his phone. “The officer is coming up to the car. Let me do the talking.” Without waiting for confirmation from Luc or Priscilla, he powered down the driver’s-side window, then kept his hands visible on the steering wheel as a tall black policeman paused a foot from the car. Mac pasted a smile on his lips. “Officer, I’m a US marshal and I’m carrying a weapon. May I reach into my left breast pocket to show you my ID?”

      “Please keep your hands where I can see them.” The officer peered over Mac’s shoulder into the interior, his eyes spotting Priscilla and Luc. With his hand on his gun at his right hip, the cop spoke something into his shoulder mic. Then the officer addressed Mac. “Who else is in this vehicle?”

      Mac pushed his sunglasses up on the top of his head with his left hand, then placed it on the top of the door in full view of the cop. “Officer, there are two passengers in the back seat.”

      The policeman moved a step back from the SUV. “Sir, I’m going to need you and your passengers to exit the vehicle.”

      Another police officer had left his cruiser to stand a few feet from the passenger’s side of the SUV hood. As the air filled with tension, Priscilla’s heart began to pound. The taut stance of the cops radiated suspicion, but she couldn’t get out of the SUV without exposing herself to a potential assassin who might be lurking nearby. She didn’t want to find out if the shooter had improved his or her aim.

      She focused her attention on Mac, who appeared unruffled, relaxed even, by the officer’s request.

      Mac smiled. “I would be delighted to get out, but I’m afraid my passengers will have to stay put.” He kept his voice pleasant yet firm. “As I mentioned, I’m a US marshal. Someone with professional driving skills deliberately rammed into our vehicle, pushing us into oncoming traffic.”

      The officer considered his words for a long moment. “Let me see your credentials.”

      “Of course, Officer. I’m going to reach into my left breast pocket with my right hand.” Mac put actions to his words, moving slowly to extract his badge folder.

      The cop accepted the leather folder and flipped it open, his eyes moving from the creds to Mac’s face and back again. “I’ll be right back.”

      The second officer stayed in position, his hand on the gun butt, while the other cop walked back to his cruiser.

      “What happens now?” Priscilla didn’t want to sit here a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

      “We wait while he calls it in.” Mac’s phone rang, and he tapped the screen to activate the hands-free app. “Mac here.” A short pause, then Mac succinctly brought the caller up to speed on their present situation.

      Priscilla fidgeted in her seat, wanting to be doing something, anything, other than hanging tight. Eavesdropping on Mac’s call distracted her from her fear that the person after her might suddenly appear and start shooting again.

      “As soon as we’re finished here, we’ll go to location five, zero, alpha, Charlie, eight,” Mac told the caller.

      She twisted in her seat to see what the police officers were doing. The cop who had approached their vehicle got out of the police cruiser and headed back toward the SUV.

      “Okay, will do.” Mac ended the call. “How are you doing, Mr. Langsdale?”

      “Hanging in there.” Luc, with his eyes closed and his head leaning against the seat back, spoke in a voice that sounded thready. “That last maneuver slammed my hurt arm against the door.”

      “Hopefully, we’ll be on our way soon and get that wound looked at.” Mac tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “But it would delay us if Fairfax County’s finest saw a wounded man in my back seat.”

      “I understand.” Luc winced.

      “He’s coming back to the car. Stay quiet.” Mac replaced his hands on the steering wheel, his posture laid-back.

      Priscilla held her breath as she saw in the driver’s-side mirror the approach of the officer, Mac’s