Suspects are in a silver 2010 c300 last seen headed Eastbound on Canal The police radio was the best thing they ever boosted.

“We gotta lose this car!”
“Chill out, Felipe! I got this!”

Marco turned sharply, zigzagging around the warehouse district, hoping to be able to double back through the lower boroughs. Felipe clutched the seat and the dash, bracing for the sharp turns that nearly made him lose his cookies.

Felipe closed his eyes and prayed. Again Marco barely missed being sideswiped. The sound of screeching tires and horn blaring would haunt Felipe for months.

He took alleys and side streets deep into the heart of Red Bandana territory where he slowed and cruised down the main street, attracting attention. He parked the car in an empty nightclub lot.

“Get out.” Felipe obeyed, wide eyed with confusion and panic. Marco pulled a flyer off the wall of the nightclub, flipped it over and boldly scrawled FREE across the back. He pinned it under the wiper, dropped the keys inside, and loped off.