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I take a right into a massive empty parking lot.
Well, not completely empty, but the burned-out husks of two tractor-trailers aren’t going to mind what I have planned.
Simon says, “If you can continue driving around there for about ten more minutes, I’ll have two of our—”
“This will be over by then,” I say and push the disconnect button.
My poor Audi… It’s sad that I’ll need to stop driving these beautiful sporty little machines and trade it in for something like an SUV, or Devil forbid, a minivan. It’s always been a great tool for me, a true champion of doing what I want when I want.
Case in point, I whip the car around into a one hundred and eighty degree turn to face the BMW as it screeches into the parking lot.
Revving my engine, I floor the gas pedal and aim the engine directly at my pursuers.
Playing chicken, though, is not on the agenda for this little matchup. No, that would just lengthen the time of this little charade of a chase.
There’s never a need to extend death’s calling.
Fifty feet, and they’re still aimed directly at me.
Twenty feet, and I can see just the slightest hesitation in the driver’s movements.
Five feet, and he veers to the right.
Pushing the pedal to the floor as hard as I can, I feel and see the nose of my car slam into the driver’s side of the BMW.
Good.
My airbag slams me back into the seat after that, and I’m certain my head will be pounding with pain once this is all over with.
Blood pools in my mouth from where I must have bitten my tongue. It’s coppery taste bites into my senses, forcing me to keep my wits.
Ripping my seatbelt from its buckle, I move as fast as I can away from the crumpled-up front of my car.
Yanking the latch on the backseat, I open the way to the trunk.
I wonder for a brief second if I could shut myself in the trunk, leap out like a stripper leaping out of a cake, and scare them while shoutingboo?
The black tactical bag I keep stashed for emergencies carries all the hardware I need for a dance, and I know exactly which lovely lady will be my partner today.
Miss lovely MP5. She’s a sexy little number, not unlike Eden. But where my angelic wife is all curves and fire, this little bitch is all sass and brass.
Grabbing a mag from the bag, I push open the passenger door that’s on the opposite side of the BMW.
I deliberately drove my car into as many of their doors as possible. I don’t want them to have all those doors to get out of. The more time they have to get ready, the better chance they have of hurting me.
And hurt me they surely want to.
If this was a simple smash and grab, they wouldn’t have shot at me all those times.
Falling out of the car, I wince as the concrete slams into my shoulder.
My head swims around the world for a moment.
Shit.
Looking under the car, I can see sneakered feet darting to get to my side of the vehicle.
Aiming my gun at the feet, I pull the trigger in four three-round bursts.
