Jemma fired from her side of the car. Bodie jumped on the brakes and twisted the wheel, hearing return fire from the paragliders. Bullets strafed in front of the car, blew pieces from one of the concrete posts. Bodie evaded them, scraped the front left side on the next post and saw the yawning drop beyond.
“That is not smooth and fucking sweet,” Cassidy heard him mutter. “That is not.”
She angled her body even farther out. The car fishtailed one way around a corner and the paragliders shot across the other, the three machines level for one second and then roaring apart. As they switched back, Cassidy saw their fallen enemy’s body on the road below, limbs bent at terrible angles. She took a moment to gauge how far there was to go.
Four more hairpins to the valley floor. Then…
Well, then they’d be sitting ducks. The paragliders would know that. Having lost one comrade, they would surely wait for an easier kill.
But one swooped down, coming in behind the SUV. Bullets streaked from its sides, fired by both the pilot and the passenger. Cassidy heard Bodie shouting into the comms, ordering Heidi to get the plane running and prepare some cover for them. She then blocked it all out, concentrated on the paraglider that pursued them as it started to pull up toward the clouds. She fired at the same time as Jemma, and the results were spectacular.
Bodies jerked sideways and backward, lolling lifelessly. The glider’s engine stopped, and the machine lurched in midair. It then took a nose dive, which developed into a roll, end over end until it made contact with the road in a loud and shocking crunch of metal. Cassidy levered herself back into the car, right hip on fire from resting on the narrow ledge for so long. Quickly, she slipped in another mag and looked at Jemma.
“Ready?”
The dark-haired girl nodded, the tight bun at the back of her head barely moving. Cassidy knew Jemma, careful and with scrupulous morals, would be reeling inside — this would disrupt her normally faultless thought process — and tried to divert her attention.
“They’re shooting at you too, Jem. You see it now. Remember it. No excuses.”
“No argument here.”
Gunn again tried to pull himself out of the footwell, but Cassidy planted a boot on his head and pushed him back down. “Stay there. It’s safer.”
“Under your boot?”
“Best place for you.”
An unexpected hairpin sent Cassidy sprawling. She regained her composure and got back to the window. The remaining paraglider hovered to their right, and its occupants seemed to be taking their time as they aimed weapons. Both vehicles were running at the same level and the difficulty factor was far less.
“Shit, that’s not good.”
They opened fire. Bodie’s window smashed, the influx of glass blinding him for a moment. Another bullet wedged into the car’s central pillar, right behind Bodie’s head and in front of Cassidy’s nose. A third plowed through the thin door metal, grazing Jemma’s knee and drawing the thinnest line of blood. The cat burglar screamed in a startled reaction, dropping her gun and staring at her leg as if it might fall off.
The paraglider passengers didn’t let up, emptying their mags at the SUV. Buffeting winds and speed spoiled their aim, but still bullets grazed and punctured the car. Cassidy knew it was another desperate moment for the team, turned and fired through the open window, fired constantly and at anything — everything — in an effort to upset their attackers’ aim.
Then Cassidy had no more time. Bodie had lost control of the car. It swerved violently to the other side of the road. He caught the wheel and twisted it back. Too far. The SUV tipped, went up on two wheels, then smashed back down and gained instant traction. Bodie jammed his foot on the brakes, but too late. Cassidy saw what was coming and grabbed the seat back with both hands.
Shit, poor Gunn. He’s gonna feel like a pinball in that footwell.
The car crashed brutally through the nearest barrier, bouncing through the gap and heading straight down the side of the mountain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cassidy braced herself. Any instant she expected the big front end of the SUV to dig in, and the whole heavy lump to start tumbling.
And there was no chance of surviving that.
Bodie wrestled the steering wheel, trying to keep the tires dead straight and at least give them a chance. Cassidy saw Cross with his hands braced against the dashboard and his mouth open in a rictus of fear. Adrenaline shot through her. Gunn was being buffeted uncontrollably in his small space, but at least the area around him was leather bound. Jemma was on her side, holding her leg and trying to stay in a fixed position.
The SUV bounced, took off, then came down hard. Bounced again. The suspension screamed, the front splitter smashed. Fragmented glass washed over the front and back floors and seats of the car. Cassidy couldn’t understand why they hadn’t started rolling yet.
Then the ground suddenly leveled out. Bodie yelled in relief, straightening the steering wheel, and Cassidy realized they had already traversed the majority of the switchbacks before they crashed through the barrier. They were speeding across flat grassland now, hopefully back toward the road.
She pushed away from the seat, reached down to Gunn, and steadied Jemma. “Relax now,” she said. “We’re alive. We’re fine. Sit up.”
She checked Jemma’s wound, but the cut was superficial at most. Then she took stock of their position. The bumpy field was full of rocks, Bodie swerving to miss the worst of them. Half a minute later and he crashed through a wooden fence back onto the smooth blacktopped road. The car shuddered, tires squealing, but Bodie wrestled it back under control.
Cassidy cast around for the paraglider.
It was right behind them, hovering twenty feet up like a prehistoric bird of prey, its tenacious riders training their weapons in the SUV’s direction. There would be no respite.
Bodie made a noise then, and jammed the brakes on. Cassidy shot forward, smashing her nose against the seat back, and felt the blood flow. Pain lanced upward through her temples. The paraglider flew ahead and then a deep cacophony of gunfire erupted. Even in her position Cassidy knew it was deeper, heavier than that which the paraglider could bring to bear. Bodie was still braking. Cassidy heaved herself away from the seat back, wiped her face, and shifted to find out what the hell was going on.
The road ahead was blocked by four SUVs. Men and a few women stood in front and to the side of the big vehicles, all with weapons aimed. Others stood in the field to the side, firing up at the paraglider.
Cassidy watched as the flying machine veered away. Bullets broke several struts and perforated the chute, but failed to bring it down. With one threat neutralized, Cassidy switched her attention to the next.
“Who are those guys? Did Heidi send them?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bodie steadied the car, eased up on the brakes, and managed to stop about twenty feet from the gathering. He took a moment to catch his breath, as did the entire team, and their world suddenly became very still.
And silent.
Cassidy soon changed that. “Load up, people. Even you, Gunn. The more threatening we look, the better.”
Bodie was already arming himself; Cross too. Jemma, to her credit, didn’t say a word, just located her .45 and changed the mag. Gunn clawed his way up from the footwell and peered between the front seats.