Everyone opened fire. The Russians were at a disadvantage, being on higher ground. Shots flew over the Challenger and grazed the roof. Bodie fired up through the door skin of the other car, riddling the closest man with bullets. Pantera fired two shots at the rear windshield, taking care of the remaining passenger.
All that was left was the driver.
Cassidy swung the Challenger into the side of the SUV, counting on the driver’s shock and distractedness. Sure enough, he didn’t correct quickly and ran headlong into a tree. The front end crumpled, metal folding and shredding. The engine shot back into the car, pinning the driver just as Cassidy sped past.
Steph choked in the back seat, tears falling freely, unable to comprehend their plight. Pantera stared ahead with grim resolve. “They got my boy in there, Cass. Get your damn foot down.”
Without reply, she goosed the gas, drawing everything from the Hemi engine. Bodie held on to the seatbelt, almost losing his grip on the gun as the car leapt ahead. Among gaps in the houses and trees they could see a slow-rising dawn, a faint orange blush just visible. A ninety-degree bend approached, which both vehicles swept around with difficulty, neither sufficiently balanced to take it with a true racing line. The gap between vehicles stayed the same. Cassidy was aware of other road users. The Russians were not. They eased ahead.
A junction came up as the road sloped downward. The SUV barreled across at high speed. Cassidy saw both ways were clear and did the same. She held it better than the Russians, though, their SUV fishtailing under braking. Cassidy barged right up the car’s rear end.
“What now?” Pantera asked.
Bodie knew only one course of action. “We have to disable that car. Get them on foot.”
“The only way we can control the situation?”
“Partially,” Bodie said. “Some risk remains.”
“Some?”
Bodie wasn’t about to say they were outgunned, outnumbered, and outmatched. For the first time he wished Heidi Moneymaker was among them; the skills and opinions that she could bring to the situation would be welcome, not to mention her own experience as an agent. And Cross, he thought. I’d value his calm and clear judgment even more.
“Squeeze their back end,” he said.
Cassidy sent him a smirk. “Really?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Sure do, boss.”
Steph cried louder in the back seat, unable to comprehend what was happening. She was a civilian who had never seen combat, which made her a liability as much as anything. Cassidy nudged the SUV at the three-quarter rear end and accelerated, effectively making the nose turn. Tires squealed. Smoke billowed from underneath both cars. The sound was horrendous, like ancient leviathans clashing. Bodie leaned out and lined the tires up in his sights, but a wild shot from the Russians sent him tumbling back inside. Pantera followed suit, managing to keep his aim steady.
“Jack,” Cassidy warned.
He fired just as the SUV swung wildly around and ended up facing them. The bullet went recklessly wide. Without pause the SUV accelerated, front-ending them. Bodie saw emotionless faces staring at him from the front seat as he rebounded, the belt grazing his shoulder. Cassidy’s hands came off the wheel. The SUV reversed fast and two men leaned out of the windows.
“Down!” Cassidy cried.
Bullets penetrated the car but not the engine, which was, Bodie knew, the place they should have been aiming at. The closest thudded into the center of the back seat, parting Jack and Steph more clearly than any harsh sentence.
Cassidy hit the gas, their car lurching forward and following the reversing SUV, right up against its front grille. Bodie held his enemy’s stare and gave a malicious grin. Down the slope they raced, nose to nose, approaching another even steeper road junction. Cassidy piled on the pressure, seeing rows of parked cars and a tree-lined central reservation.
“Push ’em,” Bodie murmured.
“Eric!” Steph cried.
The Russian driver tried to slow and turn, but Cassidy drove even harder. The SUV hit the junction and took off, all four wheels leaving the ground for whole seconds as it still traveled backward. When it landed, Cassidy was right there, grinding her matte-black custom fender into its dark-gray one. The driver cursed and fought the wheel. The front-seat passenger tried to fold himself through the window, gun in hand, but ended up smashing his head against the frame. Bodie caught a glimpse of Eric compressed into the back seat, an enormous man at his side. Truth be told, his size offered the best protection the lad was likely to get.
“Do not let them squirm away from this, Cass,” Pantera said.
She put the hammer down. The SUV twisted wildly, nose flinging around almost full circle and then ending up buried into the side of a Jeep. Bodie acted as fast as he was able. While the Russians were still being propelled forward from the impact, he was pushing the Challenger’s door open. Cassidy jammed on the brakes and Bodie jumped out. The Russian driver fought for control of his vehicle as Bodie approached, gun raised.
Pantera was still trying to join him.
Bodie flung open the SUV’s rear door and saw what he needed wedged into a sheaf inside the Russian’s waistband. A knife was the quickest way to get the huge oaf’s seatbelt open. It sawed through the material instantly and then Bodie grabbed hold of an arm around the pronounced bicep. With a heave he dragged the man into the street before stomping on his forehead.
“Stay down, Boris.”
Looking back inside he now saw Eric; the boy looked befuddled and slow from the accident. No other injuries were evident. Bodie reached inside, cut the belt, and pulled the young lad across the seat toward him.
A huge arm reached for the boy from the front seat, encircling his throat. It was bare and tattooed and as hairy as a gorilla’s. Eric screamed. Bodie saw no reason not to use the knife again, this time parting flesh and drawing blood. The arm withdrew and Eric scrambled free.
Bodie pulled him out of the car just as the Russian with the bleeding arm clambered out. The sheer bulk of the man hampered his journey, but Bodie knew he had to deal with the threat.
“Stop.” He pulled up the gun. “Stop right there. I don’t want to have to kill you—”
The Russian pulled up his own gun and fired without hesitation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bodie felt his heart stop as the bullet flashed past his face.
Still fighting his better judgment, not wanting to kill anyone, he fired back, hitting the man in the left shoulder. The gun fell and he twisted away, groaning. Bodie hefted Eric in one arm and turned to flee.
Straight into the bulk of the Russian he’d dragged clear of the SUV.
“Where you going, assboy?”
The man shoved him back into the car’s frame, jarring his spine.
Assboy?
Bodie easily blocked another punch but didn’t expect the man to then start pressing right up against him. The strain built and he lost his grip on Eric. The boy hit the ground on his knees, crying. The gun was trapped between them, pointed down. Already, the driver was opening his door.
This rescue attempt was disintegrating by the second.
Bodie head-butted, and felt the other’s blood spray across his eyesight. The pressure only increased. Where was the bastard’s gun? The Russian driver then climbed out alongside his assailant, weapon ready and a grim smile on his face.
“I wish I had time to let him crush you”—his accent made the words hard to decipher—“and watch. But sadly it is not to be.”
He raised a handgun, pointed it at Bodie’s head. The blur of motion that occurred next confused Bodie, but no shot came, which was promising. Then he saw Pantera grappling with the driver. Relief flooded his body. Pain and energy galvanized him and he fought back against his opponent. To his credit, Eric read Bodie’s situation and aimed constant kicks at the Russian’s shins. Still, the man bore down.