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"Trust me, we will," Finn assured her, but even he didn't sound entirely convinced.
Suddenly, the sharp crack of gunshots shattered the silence, followed by the splintering of glass as the car's windows exploded inward. Finn instinctively swerved off the road and toward a nearby copse of trees, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with an ancient oak.
"My God!" Amelia cried, ducking down to avoid the flying glass.
"Stay low!" Finn ordered, bringing the car to a screeching halt behind the tree line. He threw open his door and rolled onto the damp earth, scanning the darkness for any sign of the shooter.
"Amelia, grab the wheel and keep driving!" he shouted, "I'll circle around and try to get a bead on them."
"No, wait..."
"Amelia, you can't come with me. It's too dangerous," Finn insisted, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. "You have to protect our prisoner. He might know something."
Amelia hesitated for a moment, the worry evident in her gaze, but she finally relented. "Fine, Finn. But be careful."
"Always am," he quipped, giving her a reassuring smile before slipping into the shadows.
"Maybe if I..."
"Go!" Finn insisted, his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline surged through him. This was no time for hesitation; they needed to gain the upper hand before the situation spiraled even further out of control.
As Amelia sped away, tires squealing against the gravel, Finn crouched low and crept through the underbrush. He'd seen a muzzle flash from somewhere up ahead, and he knew that if he could just get close enough, he could put an end to this deadly game of cat and mouse.
"Show yourself," he muttered under his breath, pushing himself harder, determined to bring the shooter to justice. "Your little hunting party's over."
Finn moved silently through the woodland, his senses on high alert as he searched for the shooter. His mind raced with thoughts of who could be trying to kill them and why. Could Charles be involved somehow? Or was this just another faceless enemy lurking in the shadows?
How he wished he was in the US and had his gun on him. But in the UK, he wasn't allowed to carry a gun, most cops weren't even allowed to, and that made chasing down dangerous criminals even more perilous.
As he rounded a bend in the path, Finn caught sight of a figure standing between two trees, their silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. The shooter was right there, within reach. Finn could tell from the stance that he had military training. If the man had been armed with a rifle rather than a handgun, it was likely they would already have been dead.
Picking up a large piece of broken log on the ground, Finn hurled it with all his might. It slammed against the back of the shooter, who fell to the ground with a loud gasp.
"Freeze!" Finn shouted, readying himself for a confrontation. Instead of complying, the outline of the shooter got to his feet, darting deeper into the woods before Finn could grab him.
"Damn it!" Finn cursed under his breath, sprinting after the fleeing figure. He couldn't let them escape, not when they were so close to being caught.
As he chased the shooter, Finn's thoughts turned to Amelia, hoping she was safe. Despite their brief time together, he found himself drawn to her — her fiery spirit and quick wit had made an indelible impression on him.
"Focus, Finn," he muttered to himself, pushing aside thoughts of Amelia as he pursued the shooter.
The chase led Finn through a dense thicket, where he stumbled upon a discarded gun lying among the brambles. Was this the weapon used to fire at them? He took out some blue forensics glove and picked it up carefully, examining it for any clues that might help him identify the shooter.
"Gotcha now," he whispered, clutching the gun tightly as he continued his pursuit. But even with this newfound evidence, Finn knew he couldn't let his guard down. The shooter was still out there, and he would do everything in his power to bring them to justice.
"Amelia," he thought, worrying that the killer might have doubled back to get to her and the prisoner.
Bagging the discarded gun, Finn scanned the surroundings, his eyes narrowing, looking for any sign of an entrance to what looked like a hidden tunnel.
He walked around in the darkness for some time, trying desperately to pick up any sign of the shooter's trail. But there was nothing. It seemed the shooter had given him the slip once again, and Finn was certain he had disappeared underground.
"He knows the lay of the land here," Finn muttered, frustration gnawing at him. He knew he couldn't risk venturing into the woods further alone, not without backup. With a sigh, he turned back towards where he'd left Amelia, hoping she and Charles were still safe.
As he emerged from the woodland, he saw Amelia waiting by the car, her phone pressed to her ear. Her gaze met his, relief flashing in her eyes as she quickly ended the call.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice tense with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine. But our shooter's long gone," Finn replied, holding up the bagged gun as evidence. "I found this. They must've escaped through another tunnel somewhere. We'll need to get some local constables down here, start a search party. Though I suspect they won't find him."
