Safe House Under Fire. Elisabeth Rees
“You’re too kind,” she said, walking to her car, the compliment lightening her step. “Thank you.”
Astrid was peering intently through the windshield when Lilly settled herself behind the wheel of her compact car. “The guy in that van has been watching our house all morning,” Astrid said. “Do you know him?”
Lilly looked at the dark gray van parked across the street, the kind of vehicle often used by utility companies. The man in the driver’s seat was immobile, staring straight ahead, wearing sunglasses despite the overcast day.
“I’m sure he’s not watching the house,” Lilly said, fixing her cell phone into its holder on the dash. “He’s probably repairing some damage to power lines or something. There was quite a wind last night.”
“I’m telling you,” Astrid insisted, as Lilly pulled from the driveway onto their leafy suburban street. “He’s been there since six thirty. I thought he was waiting to give someone a ride, but he’s been watching us like a hawk. It’s creepy.”
“How can you get up at six thirty and not be ready by eight fifteen?”
Astrid clicked her tongue. “It takes a long time to look this fabulous.”
“That reminds me,” Lilly said, leaning across to open the glove box. “Take off that lipstick.”
Astrid huffed and pulled out the pack of wipes from inside. “Look!” she said, turning around. “The creepy guy is following us.”
Lilly glanced into the rearview mirror. The van was on their tail, driving too close for comfort.
“It’s just a coincidence,” she said, quashing her fears. “He’s probably just going in the same direction.”
Astrid dragged a wipe across her mouth. “I don’t like it. It’s making me nervous.”
Lilly’s phone began to buzz in its holder and the name flashing on the display was Kevin Lovell, her boss at the bank where she worked in Oakmont.
“I gotta take this,” she said to Astrid. “But don’t worry about the van, okay?”
Eyeing the clock, she punched the answer button and put her cell on speakerphone.
“Hi, Kevin,” she said. “I might be a little late this morning.” She avoided looking at Astrid. “My usual routine didn’t go to plan.”
Kevin’s voice was bright and breezy, totally out of character for her usually grumpy boss.
“Don’t worry about it, Lilly. If you’re still at home, then stay there and don’t come into work today. And lock your doors.”
“What? Why? I’m on the road already.”
“Mom!” Astrid’s voice was high-pitched. “That van has gotten even closer. I’m scared.”
Lilly touched her daughter’s knee. “Hold on, honey. Just give me a minute.”
“We have a serious situation here at the bank today,” Kevin continued. “A couple of agents from the FBI visited a few minutes ago, expecting you to have started work already. They’re on their way to your house, so turn around and go home to wait for them. They should be with you soon.”
“I have to drop Astrid at school,” she said. “Why do I have to go home? What’s going on?”
Kevin was silent for a moment. “The agents said you’re in danger.”
Lilly exchanged a worried glance with Astrid as her daughter grabbed for her hand. She approached a junction and turned left, intending to double back and return home. She didn’t know what was going on, but Kevin’s words were chilling.
“Mom, the van is following us,” Astrid said, beginning to cry. “He’s definitely following us.”
A different man’s voice was now on the speakerphone, a deeper one.
“Ma’am, this is Agent David McQueen from the FBI. I’m patched into this call in my vehicle. Did I hear someone say you’re being followed?”
“You’re from the FBI?” Why would the FBI be patched into her call? “We think a van is on our tail. What’s happening?”
“There’s no time to explain the situation right now,” the agent continued. “I’m already in the vicinity, en route to your home. Where are you exactly?”
“I’m on Harewood Avenue, approaching the junction to Filton Road. I’m going back home.”
“No!” Agent McQueen’s raised tone caused them both to jump. “Stay in your vehicle, keep driving in that general area, don’t stop and don’t panic. I’ll be there in five minutes. I’ll find you.”
Lilly struggled to keep up with the changing pace of the day. Just a few moments ago, she was arguing with her daughter about lipstick. Now an FBI agent was coming to save them from a danger that she had had no idea existed until now.
“Who is in the van?” she asked.
“I’ll be there soon. Remain calm.”
“How can I remain calm?” Astrid was squeezing her hand so tight that both their knuckles were white. “I have my daughter with me and she’s scared out of her mind.” She kissed Astrid’s fingers and briefly looked over at her. “I’ll keep you safe, honey. I promise.”
But then the van on their tail revved its engine hard and lurched forward, touching Lilly’s bumper. The car skipped, Astrid screamed and Lilly gripped the wheel with both hands to steady their path.
“Mom! Please do something,” Astrid yelled. “Make him stop.”
Lilly floored the accelerator and tore around the corner of Filton Road, the car’s back end skidding away slightly on the wet asphalt.
“What’s going on there?” the agent said, still on speakerphone.
“We’re being rammed off the road.”
“Take evasive maneuvers,” he said. “Do whatever it takes.”
“I’m trying,” she shouted as the van hurtled toward them once again. Thinking fast, she swerved onto the wrong side of the road. Fortunately, this residential street was always quiet, and she faced no oncoming traffic.
The van was now alongside them and she noticed the driver’s gloved hand sharply yank the wheel. He was intending to ram them from the side.
“Hold on, Astrid!” Lilly yelled.
The crunch of metal seemed to sound forever as the van sideswiped her car, pushing it onto the sidewalk, toward the thick trees that grew there.
“Mom,” Astrid cried, now beside herself with fear. “I don’t want to die.”
“Nobody’s gonna die, sweetheart. Not today.”
She slowed right down to let her assailant pass and then attempted a hand brake turn. But she messed it up and the car ended up sitting awkwardly in the road, straddling both lanes. Meanwhile, the guy in the van was clearly a much more accomplished driver and spun easily on the asphalt, tires squealing and billowing smoke.
Lilly’s hand shook as she put the stick in reverse, desperately trying to turn the car around before the van would reach them. But she messed that up too and couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the strike. The driver’s side of her car bore the brunt of the impact from the hurtling van. Lilly was jolted sideways with huge force, her head banging on Astrid’s shoulder. All she could think about was protecting her daughter. This man was crazy. He wanted them dead.
When the car finally stopped shaking, Lilly leaned across her daughter and opened the passenger door.
“Run, Astrid,” she yelled. “Run.”
Astrid could barely speak through her hyperventilating.