Two seconds later it changed lanes hard, cut across into the right lane, and took the Memorial Drive ramp going west. Pereira was already committed east. The van’s taillights pulled away from us on the far side of the rotary and were gone.
“He’s off. Boston PD broke the follow.”
Dane’s voice came back. “Copy. Status of Wiley.”
I looked down. He was still on the floor. He was breathing fast, but his hands were steady against Pereira’s seat.
“Conscious. Not hit. On the floor.”
“Get him up when you’re clear of the bridge.”
“Copy.”
The line remained open.
Dane wouldn't hang up until I told him I had Wiley back in his seat and we were three minutes out from Brookline. It wasn’t protocol. It was something else. I held that against my ribs while I turned my attention back to the road.
Pereira cleared the bridge, took the rotary at speed, and brought us down onto Memorial Drive. I kept the sidearm in my hand.
Wiley didn’t move. “It’s over,” I said, low enough that the comm wouldn’t catch it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How sure?”
“Sure enough that you can get up.”
He didn’t get up. He stayed on the floor with his face turned toward the door, and he continued to breathe fast. I didn’t push him.
Pereira took the next turn toward Brookline. The van didn’t return.
When Pereira took the turn off Memorial onto the surface streets that would feed us into Brookline, I shifted in my seat and looked down.
“Wiley, we’re three minutes out. I need you up.”
He pushed himself off the floor in stages, elbow first and then hand on the seat. He got himself upright, turned, and lowered into the seat beside me. His hands were flat on his thighs, and he stared straight ahead.
I tapped the comm. “He’s up. Four minutes out.”
“Copy,” Dane said. “We’re inside. Everything’s set.”
The gate was already open when we arrived. Collins’ lead SUV was inside, parked tight against the side of a building I could see through the bare trees. It was a converted carriage house, two stories, with dark green clapboard and lights on behind the second-floor windows.
Pereira pulled in behind the lead SUV and killed the engine.
“We’re here,” I said.
Wiley nodded.
I let him have ten seconds. Then I unclipped my belt, opened my door, and walked around the back of the SUV to his side. I opened his door.
“Wiley, out.”
He swung his legs out and set both feet on the gravel. He braced himself with a hand on the door.
I waited.