No one said anything else. Yarbrough started up the engine. He flicked his head in the direction of the right side of the dash. “There’s a nine-mil Sig in the glove box. You might want to take it.” His face became immediately concerned. “Looks like you were right, Sean. And the only thing they could possibly want from us is you.”
Sean opened the glove box and removed the black weapon. He’d always liked Sigs, though his loyalty to Ruger and Springfield were well rooted. “Always good to be wanted,” he said jokingly.
Yarbrough guided the vehicle back onto the main road, heading in their previous direction. He watched out of the side of his eye as they passed the fast food restaurant, catching a glimpse of the black sedan waiting on the other side. The windows were darkly tinted, but not enough to keep the car’s occupants completely hidden. Sean saw the four men as well, appearing as if they were waiting on something.
“Any idea why they’re so interested in you?” Yarbrough asked and jammed his foot on the gas pedal.
“I’m still not sure why the president is interested in me. Care to fill me in on that one?”
The agent merely shook his head.
Sean wasn’t surprised. “Of course not. So, I have two groups of people after me, and I have no idea why. At least when I worked for Axis I knew why I was being chased, and who was doing the chasing.” He stared into the rearview mirror, observing the BMW as it pulled back onto the main road, several hundred feet behind them.
Yarbrough’s eyes shifted to the mirror on the windshield. “We will be at the airport within five minutes. I hope we don’t have to hold them off. On a crowded road like this, there are too many civilians.”
Sean had considered the same thing. Collateral damage was something he had always tried to avoid, especially when the collateral was people’s lives. He took another peek in the side mirror to make sure the sedan was still back there. It was four or five cars back and impossible to tell what the men inside looked like. He scanned the road ahead and saw the fencing of the airport.
“Almost there,” Sean said with a hint of relief.
“Yeah, except the entrance is on the other side. We have to turn off the main road to get to where our plane is.” Yarbrough’s explanation dispelled any sense of reprieve Sean may have felt. The driver touched his earpiece and spoke again, this time to someone inside the airport. “Ballard, get a car to the front of the gate. We’ve got a tail. As soon as we pass through, blockade the entrance.”
Sean didn’t hear the response but he imagined that somewhere inside the airport fencing, another group of Secret Service agents were hurriedly carrying out the order.
“There’s the access road,” Yarbrough said, pointing to a street that shot off the main highway.
“Looks lonely,” Sean said, looking at the side street. “Which is probably just what they want.”
He heard rounds being chambered by the men in the back of the Denali. They held their Sig Sauer’s close and at the ready.
Yarbrough switched on the blinker and veered the vehicle onto the side road. As the broad side of the SUV swung around, Sean got a better look at the trailing BMW, but still no visual of the men within it.
“Hang on,” Yarbrough barked, and then mashed on the gas.
The Denali lurched forward, forcing the occupants’ heads back a little as it accelerated. A quick glance back in the mirror told Sean exactly what he’d expected. The sedan turned sharply onto the road and closed the gap quickly, despite Yarbrough’s quick trigger on the gas. In mere seconds, the much faster Bavarian car was on the SUV and tightening the space between the bumpers. Thick flatland forest blurred by outside as the two cars sped along the deserted road.
The BMW merged into the left lane, intent on pulling up next to the Denali. Yarbrough repeatedly glanced out the side of the vehicle as both of the sedan’s passenger windows began to open. When he saw the black barrels protrude through the openings, he didn’t wait for the men to fire. Instead, the Secret Service man slammed on the breaks and let the German car push ahead.
The driver of the BMW adjusted and slowed down, which turned out to be a mistake. Yarbrough punched the accelerator and the Denali hurtled forward again, slamming hard into the tail end of the sedan. The front vehicle shimmied for a second, but the man at the wheel corrected and sped up, getting clear of the SUV’s grill. As soon as the car had opened up a small space, two men with handguns leaned out of the rear windows. The one on the left, a blond guy in a white polo, opened fire first, sending a volley of metal into the windshield of the Denali. A few white streaks splashed across the glass as the stray bullets deflected harmlessly away. The guy leaning out the right window of the BMW began firing as well, aiming low at the vehicle’s grill and tires. Sean ducked for cover as the rounds continued to pound the front of the vehicle.
“Bulletproof glass,” Yarbrough said and stomped on the brakes.
“Yeah, but the tires aren’t,” Sean said, sitting back up in the seat. He yanked the slide back on the Sig Sauer and rolled down his window.
“Sean, get back in the car. Let my men handle this.”
His order fell on deaf ears. Sean had been out of the game for a few years, but not so many that he was useless in a gunfight. “Old habits, Agent Yarbrough,” he said with a smirk.
“Sean, I’m ordering you to stand do—”
It was too late. Sean leaned out the window, and Agent Yarbrough took the cue to speed up again.
“Hold it steady!” Sean shouted above the sound of the wind ripping through the Denali’s cabin.
The men firing from the BMW paused for a moment and ducked back into their vehicle to reload fresh magazines. Sean used the second to his advantage and fired a single shot. The bullet found its way harmlessly into the trunk of the sedan. He started to squeeze the trigger again, but the SUV hit a pothole in the road. The bump jarred the vehicle, causing Sean to lose his balance. He shot his hand out toward the grip just inside the window. His body’s momentum nearly carried him through the open window, but three fingers hooked around the handrail and steadied his fall.
He imagined Yarbrough’s face twisted into a disapproving glare, but he didn’t check. Instead, Sean leaned back out the window and trained his sights on the back right tire of the BMW. The two men were climbing back out, their weapons fully loaded and aimed in Sean’s direction.
This time, he fired off a quick sequence of shots, the third of which caught the target squarely in the center of the wide rubber piece. For a second, the car wavered slightly, and then began to slow. Sean expected the driver of the sedan to lose control, but he didn’t. Sean had an epiphany as the men in the back of the car launched another salvo. Run-flat tires.
Sean hoisted himself back into the SUV as the next hail of bullets cracked against the heavy glass. Yarbrough slowed down again, repeating his maneuver. It had the same effect, creating space between their car and the black sedan.
“Sorry,” Sean said as he checked his magazine. “They’ve got run-flat tires.”
“That’s okay,” Yarbrough said. “We’re at the gate.”
The Secret Service man slammed on the brakes and watched as the BMW sped by. He turned the wheel sharply, whipping the big vehicle into the drive and through an opening between the fence and a small guard shack. They zipped by a similar Denali that moved in to block the gate.
“This is a military airbase,” Sean said, realizing where they were headed. “Lot of special ops missions come through this place, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty informed.”
“I did used to work for the government, you know.”
“Yes. We know,” Yarbrough smirked.
Sean’s eyes darted around the quiet airbase. It certainly was convenient to be able to use an asset like this when it was needed. His gaze went to the driver. “Good to have friends, huh?”