Page 19 of Lethal Illusion (Six Points Security #8)
He glanced down at the dash and frowned. The gas tank must have also taken a round, because the gauge showed a lot less fuel than it did a few minutes ago. He muttered a curse.
“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re running out of gas.”
Her eyes got even wider, a feat he hadn’t considered possible. She hunched down as bullets pinged off the vehicle’s armored plating. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”
“Shut up. We’re going to be fine.” That was a lie, and they both knew it.
Bullets punctured the other back tire, and their vehicle was losing speed.
At the rate they were going, they wouldn’t be mobile for much longer.
Even if he managed to keep them on the road, the blown tires would make it impossible for them to stay ahead.
The black SUV pulled into the oncoming lane, the front of the vehicle pulling even with the back bumper of the rental. Navarre veered to the left, cutting them off, and he heard the sound of gunfire a split second before the driver’s side mirror shattered.
He wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the scenery ahead, searching for a suitable spot to ditch the vehicle. If possible, he’d rather be in control of where and when they came to a stop. It was their best chance of coming out of this alive.
“Listen up,” he told Sloane. “I’m going to take us into that wooded area up ahead. When we come to a stop, I want you to get out and run like hell. I’ll hang back and give you enough time to get away.”
She gaped at him with a look of sheer horror. “Are you insane? You’ll get killed!”
“I’ll be fine.” Maybe. There were no guarantees. “I’ve been in worse scrapes than this and made it out alive.”
His words failed to allay her concerns. If anything, they seemed to make them worse. “You want me to run into the woods by myself? I won’t know where I’m going!”
“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “I’ll only be a few minutes behind. I’ll find you, and then we’ll find our way back to safety.”
She blew out a shaky breath. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
The fear in her eyes said she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say it out loud. Lips pressed, she gave a curt nod and reached for the ceiling handle.
Navarre cut the wheel hard to the right and took them off the road.
The SUV bounced like a bucking bronco, barreling through the dense vegetation.
Branches slapped the vehicle from multiple angles, cracking the windshield and tearing off the remaining side-view mirror.
He barely avoided hitting a tree, but momentum sent the back end slamming against another.
The car spun several times, and by some miracle, they managed not to flip over.
Somewhere along the line, the airbags had deployed.
Dazed and disoriented, Navarre unfastened his seat belt and stumbled from the vehicle.
Fuck, his neck hurt—not surprising, considering what they just went through.
He heard the sound of another door opening and caught a glimpse of Sloane streaking into the forest. From what he could tell, she appeared unharmed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Now it was his responsibility to ensure she stayed that way.
The smell of gasoline fouled the air as the last of their fuel formed a puddle on the forest floor.
Navarre shook his head to clear the fog as he pried the back door open, thankful he’d been paranoid enough to pack a bag of emergency provisions.
It wasn’t standard procedure for these types of assignments, but then again, nothing about this assignment was standard.
Using the front of the SUV for cover, he drew his pistol, the cold steel a familiar weight in his hand.
He aimed at the first of the vehicles that drove along the path he’d carved moments ago.
Years of training clicked into place, his pulse slowing, senses sharpening to the point of hyperawareness.
One by one, he blocked off his emotions, until the only thing left in his mind was ice-cold determination.
His vision narrowed until he only saw his target.
On the next exhale, he pressed the trigger, and the bullet pierced the SUV’s windshield and tore into the driver.
Good thing their vehicles weren’t armored.
The passenger door flew open and the remaining person dove for cover in the dense vegetation.
With the driver dead, the SUV veered to the right, eventually coming to rest against the huge tree Navarre had narrowly missed.
The vehicles behind it had stopped as well, but in a more controlled manner behind a thick stand of oaks.
Navarre fired three more rounds, and then took the opportunity to change position, moving back from the vehicle and taking a defensive stance behind a copse of pines.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” a raspy masculine voice called out. “Just give us the woman, and you can walk out of here alive.”
Yeah, right. Did they honestly think he’d buy that load of bullshit? As far as lies went, it ranked right up there with “the dog ate my homework,” “I didn’t know I was speeding, Officer,” and “I swear, just the tip.”
Stock-still, he scanned his surroundings, searching for the next target to kill.
There, to his left, he spotted a man in dark clothes and a baseball cap creeping toward the armored vehicle, a pistol in his grip.
Taking careful aim, he fired a shot and heard a pained grunt as the figure dropped out of sight.
The other side responded with an immediate barrage of gunfire that tore chunks out of the pines that Navarre was using for cover.
Head down, he dropped to a crouch and checked his gun to see how much ammo was left in the magazine.
Not much. Not good. He had three more loaded magazines in his bag, but it wouldn’t take long to burn through them.
He was outnumbered, outgunned, and he needed to find Sloane before any of these assholes got the chance. He laid out a spray of gunfire, emptying the magazine, and then quickly reloaded before escaping into the forest.