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Jon pushed the passenger door open.
Ace tossed Jasmine up into the seat, threw the satchel into her lap and scrambled up after her.
“Stay down!” Jon cried. He shifted into reverse and slammed his foot onto the accelerator, sending the big truck backward out of the gate.
Ace pushed Jasmine low and covered her body with his.
As they cleared the gate walls, the truck was pummeled with machine-gun fire, shattering the windshield and sending slivers of glass flying through the cab.
Jon didn’t slow the truck as it careened backward down the hill. He kept going until they rounded a bend in the road, and they were well out of range of the gunfire. Then he slammed his foot on the brakes, and the truck skidded sideways, stopping in the middle of the pavement and blocking the road entirely. He killed the engine and yelled, “Get out!” Jon dove from the driver’s seat to the ground.
Ace pushed open the door and jumped down. He reached for Jasmine and helped her to the ground as she clung to the bag carrying the scroll. She slung the satchel over her neck and across her body.
Ace and Jasmine rounded the back of the truck. He stopped near a stand of hedges, searching the darkness for the poker player.
“Over here!” Jon called out from behind the hedges.
Ace ducked around the hedges to find Jon mounting a motorcycle.
“I hope you know how to ride a motorcycle,” Jon called out, tipping his head to another bike behind him. He started his engine and twisted the throttle, revving the RPMs.
Ace nodded, mounted the other motorcycle parked behind the bushes and started the engine.
Jasmine climbed on behind him, tucking the satchel between their bodies.
Jon glanced over his shoulder, goosed his throttle and leaped out onto the road.
“Hold on!” he yelled.
Once Jasmine’s arms clamped around his middle, Ace twisted his throttle. The motorcycle leaped forward with more power than he’d anticipated.
Jasmine clung to him as he steadied the bike on the pavement.
Ace briefly glanced upward.
Headlights glared further up the hill, coming down fast.
The truck stretched across the road would slow them down, hopefully long enough for them to reach Athens and blend into the city traffic.
Ace followed Jon’s taillight, racing down the winding road to where it intersected with the highway leading back into Athens.
Jon turned toward Athens.
Having no idea where the man was leading them, Ace followed. Since Hank had sent him, he trusted the man. He’d gotten them out of the compound alive; he had to have a plan to keep them alive.
Thank God for Hank and his network of friends that extended beyond the United States.
As they neared the city, traffic thickened. Jon weaved in and out of the stream of vehicles. Ace kept up, feeling more confident of the machine beneath him with each passing mile.
When Jon left the main road, Ace followed.
They zigzagged through a residential area into a more run-down district of older commercial buildings that had seen better days.
Jon slowed in front of what appeared to be an auto repair shop. The overhead door rolled up automatically as Jon approached. He drove in and parked his motorcycle beside an older model car.
Ace drove in and stopped beside him.
The overhead door lowered. As it touched the ground, lights blinked on inside the garage.
