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Page 133
"Fancy you knowing that," she said faintly.
Morgan looked back through the rear window. A bar of yellow lights appeared, still a good distance away. He stiffened, and asked, "Are you all right now?"
When she nodded, Morgan said, "Then slide over. I want you to drive."
Anna did as she was told without comment. You know when to question and when not, Morgan thought. Now Anna Neville had to take a hand in her own salvation.
When they had changed places, Morgan said, "Go." Then he reached into the backseat for the black plastic case there. He put it on his lap and worked the combination lock. Inside, nested in green felt, was a MAC-10 and its attachments: fortyfive-round magazine loaded with nine-millimeter bullets, silencer, removable rifle stock, and six-power image-enhancing sight.
Anna glanced at the weapon. "What do you need that for?" she asked. God, Morgan thought. She's a pacifist, too.
"Just drive," he said.
Morgan assembled the MAC-10 and levered a shell into the chamber. "Now listen to me, carefully. We're being followed."
She glanced quickly into the rearview mirror. Even now she still found it difficult to believe that someone really meant to kill her. Any civilized person would feel the same, Morgan thought.
"About a mile from here we will come to a junction. Bear to the right. In about five minutes, we'll come to another junction, with a signal light. Ignore the signal and go on up the hill. We may get clear of the fog for a few miles. But at the top of the hill there's an interchange, with a sign that says Pacifica. Take that road and drive as fast as you can. Go straight through the town and head south. We'll have company by then."
Anna Neville's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Yes," she said. "All right." Her eyes sought the rearview

 
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