I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

really have to run. Can you…?”
    She frowned, but nodded and beckoned to the woman, who was giving me a filthy look.
    I ignored her and bolted. Brown was nearly at the bookshop on the corner now, and he didn’t look as if he was going straight to Security. He was heading away, around the other corner, and I speeded up, grateful I wasn’t wearing huge heels.
    “Excuse me,” I called, not knowing what I was going to say to him, “sir…”
    I’d make up that he’d left something behind or there was a problem with his ticket. Yes! The payment hadn’t been processed. That always takes forever to sort out. I’d be safe.
    But he saw me, blanched and darted away.
    Triple shit.
    He was running back towards check-in. What was going on? Had I got it wrong? Where was he going?
    He rushed up to one of the empty desks up at the end and leapt over the little gate on the baggage belt. For a second I halted, staring, disbelieving. Surely he wasn’t going to do what it looked like he was going to do?
    He ducked and threw himself onto the main belt.
    He must be insane! Apart from the fact that it was unbelievably illegal to even lean out over the belt (not that it stopped us, heh heh), it was really dangerous to walk on it.
    Or so they always tell us.
    But I couldn’t just let him go. If he really had a gun, he could pull it on the ramp guys. I had to stop him. Nobody who acts like that is innocent.
    “Crap.” I stamped my foot and ran after him, tripping over the little belt and throwing myself onto the main conveyor.
    Really it was just like one of those moving walkways that go on for miles and miles. Except that this one had more twists and bends, flaps and poles to make things lie flat, scanners to make sure no one was packing anything they shouldn’t. I heard a siren go off up ahead, presumably as Brown went through, and steeled myself.
    I scrambled along the belt, knowing my quarry was doing the same thing ahead, and barely noticed as I passed under the scanner.
    It made no noise. Apparently I was legal for airline transportation.
    I could see him up ahead, climbing over the edge and dropping down into the undercroft. People were staring, some of them were running, but no one was trying to stop him. To give them the benefit of the doubt, I think they were shocked. I don’t want to think they were all such cowards.
    “For fuck’s sake, stop him,” I yelled, peering over the edge then closing my eyes as I threw myself over.
    I landed with a thump on my side and dragged myself to my feet. People were rushing over to the plastic flaps that led outside, and I followed them just in time to see one of the airside cars speeding away.
    Fuck .
    I glanced around wildly for something to follow it in, but all I could see was a baggage dolly. Not helpful.
    “Bloody stop him,” I hollered, breathless, and a couple of guys started running after the car. Good boys. But it was going too fast and they would never catch it.
    Brown rammed the car over the grass verge and the wheels started spinning. Thank God they never shelled out for a decent car. I spied a wheel chock on the ground, picked it up and hurled it as hard as I could at the car.
    It smashed the rear windscreen good and proper.
    “Yes!” I aimed a fist at the sky and ran off after the car. The wheels were still spinning, spattering mud all over me and the three guys in their hi-vis jackets who were trying to get into the car. Brown had locked the doors and was looking at the back window as if it might be a good way to get out. But the glass was shattered all over, it’d be instant death.
    He and I stared at each other through the driver’s window for a long second. Then I grabbed the chock and swung it at the window, wincing as the glass shattered. I reached in, snatched the keys out of the ignition, smashed them across his face before he’d had time to react and grabbed his gun.
    I’d like to state here and now that I’ve never fired a gun before and I hardly know which end is which. But apparently I looked convincing, because Brown raised his hands in surrender.
    Someone in an Ace uniform reached in and opened the door, grabbed Brown and held his arms behind his back. “The coppers are coming,” he said, looking at me. “What the hell’s going on?”
    I shrugged, the gun still aimed at Brown’s head. “I’m just following instructions,” I said.
    “Me too,” said the Ace guy. “Yours.”
    A cop car came whistling up and out catapulted a couple