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her deputy and prime piece of beef. They would attempt to escape Peyton and Noah, the federal agents hunting her down.
    And she wasn’t just going to escape from federal custody. She was going to take down the enemies who had betrayed her and sent her to prison. She was going to destroy their centers of power, rob them blind, and collect booty. Loot, swag, pillage. Because it was her birthday.
    She felt nervous and excited and—hungry. She couldn’t wait to get going.
    But she didn’t know why the scenario had to start in such a dismal neighborhood. The Hummer sped by a huge parking lot, a sloping black prairie of asphalt, and she saw stadium lights. Candlestick Park came into view. It was a grimy concrete Frisbee plastered with billboards for the ’49ers. An endless line of aqua blue Porta-Potties bordered the whole empty, sagging affair.
    Then Autumn spotted golden fields dotted with stubby pines and caught the sparkle of sunlight off the bay. Kyle swung the Hummer through a gate. He gunned it through a long, empty parking lot and stopped sideways across four slots. The engine coughed and hacked until he shut it down.
    He turned. “Okay, kiddies. We’re here. Sack up.”
    Dustin squinted against the sunlight. “This is Candlestick Point?”
    Kyle got out, opened the passenger door, and beckoned the group out. Noah held out his hand for Lark. She shook her head. “Opposite teams, Noah. I let you grab my hand, next thing you’re slapping a pair of cuffs on me.”
    “You take that risk.” Smiling, he gripped her hand and got out.
    Peyton followed, tugging Grier along. “Hey, I’m a U.S. Marshal. If anybody plays with handcuffs, it’ll be me.” She tucked a finger under Grier’s belt. “And I’m talking to you.”
    Grier popped the collar of his shirt. “You won’t get me. I pay people off. That’s my job. If I can’t, I run.”
    Kyle looked like he was trying to keep a straight face. “If you like shackling prisoners, Miss Mackie, shouldn’t you be wearing a police uniform?”
    She smiled, patently coy. “You like handcuffs?”
    He smirked and poked up the brim of his cap. “Knots are more my style.”
    Autumn pushed Peyton forward and climbed out. “Move, Mackie.” Before you start doing a pole dance.
    Candlestick Point State Recreation Area was virtually deserted. The grass was unmown. The trees were gnarled by the wind. On the sand at the water’s edge, a man was performing tai chi. In the distance an elderly couple ambled along, pushing a baby stroller that held their tiny white poodle.
    Past the glittering water, on a spit of land that protruded into the bay, giant loading gantries and cranes stood idle at the abandoned Hunters Point Naval Shipyard. On the bay, a container ship steamed toward Oakland, its wake as white and frothy as cake icing. The wind battered Autumn’s hair away from her face. She pulled on a Marine Corps utility cap and smoothed down her gold cashmere sweater.
    She inhaled the strong sea air and shivered. All at once she felt great.
    Dustin came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Last kiss before battle?”
    She leaned her head back. “Last kiss till one of us takes the other as a prize.”
    On the asphalt next to the limo, Grier and Noah shadowboxed. Lark’s phone rang, and she answered, “Reiniger Cartel World Headquarters, Sobieski the Assassin speaking. How may I direct your call?” Then, giggling, “Hi, Mom.”
    Kyle scanned the parking lot, one hand steepled over his brow. After a minute he reached inside the Hummer and took out a walkie-talkie.
    “Ritter calling base.”
    Static.
    “Ritter calling base, come in.”
    More static. He got his phone, made a call, and frowned. Autumn knew that look. It was the one she got when she called her father. Voice mail.
    She tugged on Dustin’s sleeve. “All that crap from my dad about getting here on time, and we have to stand around waiting for the game to start?”
    Dustin shrugged. His smile was slippery, like