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“Mow them down, get out and shoot the ones that are left.” He revved the engine and set off towards the men attacking them.
Esteban’s men were shooting wildly. They also had more firepower than Joe’s team.
“Hold on.” Joe aimed the car at two men, clipping one and sending the other flying.
Ryan fired a shot out his window as two more bullets hit the side of their car.
“Esteban is still in the plane,” Ryan said.
“How many men?”
“I count six still mobile, two injured and two dead.”
There was the unmistakable sound of rifle fire. “Make that three dead,” Callum said through Joe’s phone.
Joe swerved across the sand, aiming for another two men. A burst of heavy fire hit them from the left, taking out their tyres. Joe lost control of the car. He fought with the steering wheel as they hit a shrub, managing to get them back on four wheels. Another hail of bullets took out the back window.
“You hurt?” Joe shouted as the car careened off course.
“No, but they’ve got automatic weapons.”
More gunfire hit them, making smoke billow from the engine.
“That isn’t good,” Ryan said.
“No shit. Buckle up, because this is going to get rough. I’ve lost the brakes and we’re heading for the plane. I’m going to try to slow us by shifting down gears, and then I’ll have to pull the handbrake.”
Ryan’s head snapped to the front. “Aim for the sand. It’ll slow us.”
“Too far away from the rest of the team. I’ll spin us on the runway and hope the lack of gas and the handbrake are enough to stop us. Hold on.”
The car screamed as Joe forced it into a lower gear. Another burst of gunfire made the vehicle shudder.
“They’ve broken through the gas tank casing,” Ryan said.
Another gear shift.
“One more down,” said Callum’s steady voice.
Another burst of fire took out their last two tyres, and all hope of controlling the car disappeared.
“Fuck!” Ryan shouted.
Joe pulled the handbrake. It was their only option.
The car spun, turning three-hundred and sixty degrees with a screech. The metal rims ripped at the tarmac, making them spark.
“The sparks are going to ignite the fuel,” Ryan said.
They tilted and then there was an almighty crash. Joe ducked, but the car came to a halt.
“You okay?” He looked behind him to find the roof crushed where the car had wedged under the carriage of the plane.
“Yeah.”
Without another word, they shoved at their doors.
“Mine’s wedged, too warped to open,” Joe said; he caught sight of flames in his mirror. “The petrol’s on fire.”
