Behind her Russo unleashed a burst of fire. A stray bullet passed through his coat, making him grunt, then lightly grazed Alicia’s arm — the touch barely registering — before continuing its flight down the alley. That, as much as anything, told Alicia a fact that she’d assumed from the start — they were being hunted tonight, not warned.
Caitlyn yelped as if sensing the nearness of the bullet. Alicia sympathized for the girl’s utter bad luck — she had only just arrived after all — but now wasn’t the time. Crouch was engaged ahead, struggling with an opponent. Alicia pushed Caitlyn toward Healey and branched off to help her boss. When the man struggling with him registered her presence, momentarily taking his attention off the battle, Crouch felled him with a jab to the throat.
Two more adversaries took his place.
Crouch brought his gun up, but found his arm wrenched sideways. He took a blow to the gut. Alicia stepped in, sidekicking Crouch’s opponent whilst pulling her own into an arm-breaking waltz. The arm was quickly followed by a knee. Crouch swung his weapon up and fired. The two pulled away.
Healey was already sheltering Caitlyn in the alley. Russo was ahead of them. The sound of breaking glass told her he’d smashed a window, the shape he stood next to, towering over him, told her that it was a van. Both she and Crouch ran for the head of the alley, firing back toward the house to deter their pursuers.
But by now, several enemy combatants had secured good positions. Bullets blasted through the dark, the position of the shooters clear because of the unsilenced weapons. For Alicia it was a mad, surreal moment; caught out in the pitch black with deadly fire strafing to left and right of her, Crouch at her side, unable to take cover or offer any kind of defense. It was blind luck that they escaped.
But down the alley they ran, unscathed. Shouts of anger went up from behind. Alicia gave it a three count, then turned and loosed her weapon, emptying it before ramming in another mag. Two men lay screaming.
Russo fired up the van, throwing open the side doors. Everyone piled in unceremoniously and then became even more tangled as the big man revved the engine. The van spurted forward, roaring. Alicia heard strangled shouts into radios but couldn’t make out the words. A quick look through the smeared rear window showed their pursuers hotfooting it after them. She tried to rise but found her knees were inexplicably locked with Cruz’s.
“What the hell, man?”
Then she saw his eyes. Their guide was barely holding it together. Christ, this wasn’t as easy as the Drake set-up, where every member of the team was pretty much a super hero. This was hard work.
“Take a breath,” she said. “You’re okay. Now ease up with the creepy boa-constrictor stuff.”
Cruz shuffled back. Healey grabbed his shoulders, giving him a winning if slightly blood-crazed smile.
“We all in one piece?” Crouch asked from underneath both Lex and Caitlyn.
The whole group slid around the back of the van as Russo slung the vehicle through a sharp right-hander. Alicia found herself having to fend off Cruz yet again.
“Feeling like I’m gonna throw up is all,” Lex gargled. “You want me to drive this fucker, big man?”
Russo only grunted. Alicia took it as a refusal.
Bullets clanged off the back doors. Both rear windows shattered. Russo slowed for a junction ahead and then floored it on seeing the road was clear. Unlit shops and bars flashed by to either side. The only lights were the dimly glowing streetlamps. Even the moon was having no part of this mayhem.
A gust of wind blustered in through the jagged rear windows. Alicia saw that they were pulling away from the runners now, but that three vehicles were already in fast pursuit. They appeared to be faster than the van. It was only a matter of time.
“They’re determined bastards,” she said. “We have to find a defensible position, Russo. Fast.”
The grunt came again, seemingly one of those replies that worked for every occasion. Alicia was shocked to see how fast their followers closed the gap.
“Shit!”
From out of nowhere a battered white truck crossed their path. Alicia caught the logo Swift before her face almost merged with it. Russo slung the van sideways, again forcing its occupants to crash into each other; coming to a jarring stop only when both vehicles smashed together.
The van wobbled, suddenly still. Alicia, though suffering from a bruised forehead, didn’t miss a beat. She scrambled furiously down to the back end, flung the doors open and jumped down. The chasing vehicles were already in view, not yet slowing. A conservative spraying of their front ends made them slew to the right, one smashing into a storefront. Men piled out, taking cover behind bins and railings, concrete posts and parked cars.
Alicia herded everyone around the closest corner. “Run like hell!”
An immediate problem snagged her attention. The area they were headed toward was severely lacking in buildings. A relatively small patch of open land with a dilapidated, rusted child’s playground set at the center, but the entire area was open plan.
“Of all the bloody luck,” she muttered. Maybe this was payback for not getting shot to death earlier.
Russo ground to a halt three feet away. “What’s the plan?”
“Remain unventilated.” Alicia pointed to the widest car parked behind them. “Think we could roll that over? Then, if we’re forced to retreat, at least it’ll offer us some protection.”
Russo nodded, called Healey over and motioned at the others to keep hurrying across the playground. “Be right behind you.”
Alicia moved to help the giant but Russo had the car turned over in seconds. Healey grinned at her surprised reaction.
“Don’t worry. He used to do it to my little Astra all the time.”
“You ever do that to my Ducati and the chances of you reproducing will be cut by at least a half. You get me?”
Russo made the grunt.
Healey grinned. “Oh, he’d just throw the bike onto the nearest roof.”
Alicia lined up with the far corner. When the fastest of their enemy showed his face she took aim, waited a few seconds, then opened fire. The man folded, blood spraying the wall at his back and the man to his right, whom Alicia also took out. There followed a momentary lull before a new weapon appeared, clasped in the hands of a man wearing full body armor.
“Shit. Are you kidding me? Is that a fucking Steyr?”
“Start running.” Russo rumbled and began to turn.
Alicia dived on top of him, dragging him to the ground. “It’s a tactical machine pistol, you idiot. Stay down or it’ll shred you to pieces.”
The Steyr burst into action, ripping through the car in a matter of moments, bullets passing straight through the torn metal. Their enemies ran hard under cover of the Steyr, crossing the road and approaching the area where Alicia, Healey and Russo were pinned down. The three twisted and covered up as best they could, rolling a short way down a sharp incline away from the side of the road and onto the grass-covered playing field.
But, prone as they were, when the well-armed pursuers flowed around both sides of the dead vehicle, Alicia and her two comrades didn’t stand a chance.
It was utter mayhem, utter devastation. Bullets chewed up the concrete and the soil and grass near the car. Lines of lethal lead stitched several haphazard paths of random death. Their only savior was that they had rolled out of the way, but now their enemies had seen them. Alicia fired back with Russo and Healey at her side, all three on their knees and with weapons held to their shoulders.
Men collapsed, tripping others; some were slammed back into the already devastated car. But there were too many; the stream kept coming. In another two seconds Alicia guessed the bullets would reach her.