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I didn’t tell him, that, though. Would’ve undercut the whole You fuckin’ chauvinist pig part.
Massimo grabbed the dead guy’s assault rifle off the bottom of the boat. The fact that it had blood all over it didn’t seem to bother him one bit.
He maneuvered to the back row of seats…
Braced the gun on the top of a headrest…
And fired.
BLAM!
He had it on single mode because there was only one gunshot.
I glanced over my shoulder.
The boat behind us moved farther away, off to the right.
BLAM!
Pause…
BLAM!
Pause…
BLAM!
Massimo was taking his time to aim – like a sniper would.
I glanced back over my shoulder and saw the boat had fallen significantly behind us.
Good.
We were coming up around the southeastern tip of Venice, so I throttled back to make the turn.
“Why the fuck are you slowing down?!” he shouted.
“Because we’ll roll the boat if I take it any faster, you IDIOT!” I shouted back.
“…oh,” he said, then went back to watching our pursuers.
I guess they were far enough away that it wasn’t worth shooting at them, because he came back and crouched next to me in the aisle.
“Move over,” he shouted.
“Fuck you,” I shouted back. “You just keep an eye on the other boat.”
He seemed to grumble – I couldn’t actually hear it over the roaring wind – but he didn’t argue.
As we curved into the straightaway, I hit the throttle again and went back to full speed.
My hair was blowing straight out behind me, we were going so fast.
Ruined my up-do, but fuck if it wasn’t worth it.
“Why aren’t they shooting back at us?” I yelled over the wind.
“Because they don’t want to hit you.”
