It should've been a typical run. After all, there was no way Decker would be able to catch both of them. And the procedure was pretty much standard for them - race a few blocks, then BA would take a left, Face would take a right, and Decker's people would either have to choose which one to follow or split forces. And usually he didn't have enough vehicles with him to split up. Obviously he wanted Hannibal more than the others - and inevitably he made the wrong choice and went after the van.
Today was a little different, though. For one thing, they were in an area of town neither BA or Face was familiar with. For another, the team had been caught on the last leg of their trip back from a job and both the van and the Vette were low on gas. Decker had caught up with them just as they were pulling into the gas station, of all things. So it wasn't the greatest situation they found themselves in.
The street they were on was in rough shape, full of potholes and debris. Murdock was firing over the back of the Vette as they followed BA, but with all the bumps and swerves Face had to take, he was doing a good job of missing his targets. Hannibal had no chance to give them any support for the same reason - hard to shoot when your own men were getting between you and the target. Face was only thankful he hadn't tried anyway.
Face frowned when he saw the road construction signs. That could be good or bad. He pulled into the left lane, trying to see ahead of the van. Definitely not good. He could see a lot of heavy equipment a few blocks ahead, and a lot of barricades along the side streets.
Decker was herding them down a virtual box canyon.
Then he caught the signal from BA. Oh, boy, not what he wanted to see, but there wasn't much choice.
"Hang on, Murdock!"
The pilot slid back down into the seat, slamming his hand down on his hat. Face pulled back behind the van, saw the quick flash of its brake lights and steeled himself. Decker's posse was a little too close, but...
The van ahead suddenly slammed on the brakes and swung to the left. Face mirrored it, twisting the steering wheel to the right. The two vehicles swung in symmetrical arcs, back ends fishtailing around as they executed near perfect doughnuts. Even above the squeal of his own tires, Face could hear the Jeeps frantically braking to keep from sailing into the maelstrom.
Halfway through the third doughnut, Face straightened the wheel and accelerated. He shot between the two left Jeeps, while he caught BA out of the corner of his eye sliding between the others. They flew up the street, Face grinning as the impromptu drag race. Three blocks later, he turned suddenly to the right, and watched in his rearview as BA headed in the opposite direction. A few more sudden turns and he pulled sedately into a side street gas station, tank nearly empty. He parked in the lane closest to the station itself, safely behind a large delivery truck. He exchanged grins with Murdock as he heard the lone siren speed by a block away.
It should've been a typical run. But as Face felt his heart starting to beat a little slower, he was just as glad it hadn't been.