Metal scraped against masonry with a deafening screech, sending a shower of sparks into the freezing air.

By the time I scrambled back to my feet, the van was already roaring forward.

Vanessa dragged Lily inside the rear cabin and slammed the heavy metal doors shut.

I fired two rounds at the rear tires, but the bullets ricocheted off the reinforced steel rims.

The van fishtailed out of the alley, its tires throwing up slush as it turned onto the main road.

“Lily!” I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of the engine.

I tapped my earpiece twice to connect directly to the tactical operations center.

“Target vehicle is a black Ford Transit, Colorado plate seven-four-alpha-delta-nine,” I said, my voice tight. “They have Lily.”

“Copy that, Agent Vance,” Director Miller’s voice crackled through the static. “We are pulling up the grid cameras now.”

I sprinted back toward the front of the school, my lungs burning in the thin Denver air.

My unmarked black SUV sat idling near the main entrance, its emergency lights dark.

I threw myself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and shifted into drive.