Page 125 of Vow Of Fire

My phone beeped. Looking down, I saw a text message from Kyle. On our way. ETA 5 minutes.

We just had to hang in here for a short while longer. I only hoped we had enough ammo to hold them off till then.

Gunfire exploded again, chunks of concrete spraying over us as bullets tore into the pillar. Evelyn flinched and I wrapped an arm around her head, shielding her from the debris. A sharp sting sliced across my cheek.

I let out a growl. Now I was mad.

I leaned out and fired twice in quick succession. One of the shooters ducked back behind the SUV as bullets sparked against metal.

There was a loud curse in Spanish.

Yes!

Our driver crawled behind the front wheel of our vehicle, grimacing through the pain as he returned fire in controlled bursts.

“We’re pinned!” he shouted. “Can’t reach the elevators!”

I knew that already.

The shooters had positioned themselves perfectly. The elevator lobby was exposed and too far away. The second we broke cover, we’d be cut down.

Another barrage erupted. Bullets punched through the windshield of our SUV and ricocheted wildly around the garage. One shattered a nearby fluorescent strip light, plunging half the level into flickering shadow.

Then I saw it.

The reflection in the black SUV’s driver-side mirror.

One of the shooters had shifted position slightly, exposing just enough of his shoulder.

I steadied my breathing. Waited.

Another inch.

I rose from cover and fired three rapid shots.

The man screamed and collapsed hard against the SUV, his weapon clattering across the concrete.

“Move!” I roared at Evelyn, grabbing her hand.

We sprinted from behind the pillar while the second shooter unleashed wild retaliatory fire. Bullets screamed past us as I shoved Evelyn behind a parked Mercedes near the elevator bank.

The remaining gunman advanced aggressively now, firing as he came. Too aggressive. Too emotional. Rookie fucking error.

I was about to mow him down when the garage entrance exploded with headlights.

A black Escalade tore down the ramp at terrifying speed before slewing sideways across the concrete. Doors burst open before the vehicle had fully stopped.

Kyle emerged first, assault rifle already raised.

Gunfire erupted from both sides simultaneously. Max and two more men poured out behind him, forcing the cartel shooter backward in a hailstorm of bullets. Concrete dust and sparks filled the air as the gunman scrambled for cover.

“Tango moving!” Max yelled.

The wounded shooter managed to drag himself into the waiting SUV. Tires screeched violently as it made for the exit ramp.

Kyle opened fire at the retreating vehicle, bullets smashing into the rear windshield, but the SUV kept going. Seconds later, it disappeared up the ramp and out into the Manhattan night.

Silence crashed over the garage.