Blaire

Cursing Grant’s sister to the high heavens, I left the cover of the stacked crates and ran toward her. With my carbine set in fully automatic, I shot in the direction where Andy, Eric, and their other man disappeared and grabbed Val.

“Come on,” I shouted and wished to God she’d snap out of her daze.

“Oh my God, Blaire, you’re bleeding. You’re bleeding!”

“Not my blood,” I muttered.

When a bullet kicked up concrete beside her feet, I turned my weapon and fired in the direction where the shot came from. Val was a crying mess and if I didn’t calm her down, she’d get us both killed. My own courage was hanging by a thread, and if I thought about our situation too much, I would doom us both. I fisted Val’s shirt and dragged her behind the metal containers.

To her credit she was trying to stop the sobs rising up from her throat. “I need you to suck it up,” I growled, glancing around the crates to check our immediate surroundings. “Can you do that, Val?”

“You got us into this mess,” she blurted out.

Good Lord. “You can go back to hating me later,” I told her. “Right now, we need to work together to get out of this mess.” A bullet ricocheted off our steel hiding place. She jumped but didn’t scream. “Are you with me, Val?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“Okay. You saw that open gate on our left?” It was serendipitous that the two men who reported the tracking hack left the warehouse gates open

“Yes.”

“We’re going to weave through these crates, but when I tell you to run, you run like hell. Don’t look back. Don’t see if I’m following you. They’ll try not to shoot me because they need me for the paintings, but they are going to kill you. Understand?”

Val scowled at me.

“Ready?”

Again, she nodded.

“Go!”

We ran between a series of shipping crates. Sporadic gunfire followed us. When we had to break cover, I had to blast the carbine at full auto. The gate seemed too far away, but I was running for my life—thinking that next second would be my last with each second lasting an eternity. I reloaded magazines in the middle of our sprint to freedom and, during that moment, a bullet nicked my arm. I cried out, feeling the burn, but, thank God, Val listened to me and continued running. We made it to the exit and that was when I noticed that it locked from outside.

“Help me push this!” I yelled. This should buy us some time. There were side doors and folding gates all around the warehouse, but I was hoping they’d have trouble opening those. We sealed the sliding gates and I threaded a chain with the padlock to secure it.

The sun was shining high in the sky and I took a moment to look around. The warehouse was in the middle of farmlands. The driveway and parking lot were not paved. There were several parked vehicles—newer SUVs, an older model pickup truck, and a Jeep. I quickly checked the SUVs; they were locked. The Jeep didn’t have the keys, so that left the truck. It wasn’t quite vintage, but it was a model before transponders were installed in cars that prevented hot wiring. I just hoped it didn’t run like a clunker.

The pickup was unlocked. I handed the carbine to Val. “Here. Make yourself useful. It’s set on full-auto… just press the trigger.” Luckily, this was the version of the carbine that didn’t have a lot of kickback so I didn’t bother warning her of it. Recoil was worse when anticipated. The steering column cover came off and exposed the housing of the wiring. “Shoot anything that moves!” I yelled over my shoulder. Twisting the black wire to the ignition wire together, I started flicking the starter wire to the battery one. The engine sputtered and came to life just as Val screamed “Motherfuckers!” and sprayed the warehouse with bullets.

I pulled her to the front of the pickup. “Can you drive?”

Her eyes were bright from her adrenaline rush. “Oh my God!” she answered.

“Val, can you drive?” I shouted to get her back in the moment.

Her grin was cocky. “I’ve got a few speeding tickets.”

Fantastic.

“Keep your head down. Get to the driver’s side. Close your door. Open mine. Go!” I grabbed the carbine from her and shot at Andy and his men trying to make their way toward us. I circled the hood and dove into the passenger seat.

“The steering is locked,” she muttered.

“Shit. Hold on.” I removed the ignition wiring harness to reveal the pin, then used the butt of the carbine to knock off the lock cylinder. “Pull the pin!”

“It’s free!” Val answered.

A shot broke through the rear of the pick up and went through the windshield.

“Floor it!” I screamed and we shot forward.

We sped through dirt and gravel, bouncing like a rickety ride in an amusement park. The shocks on the pickup should’ve been replaced long ago, but at least we were getting out of that hellhole. I spied a main road up ahead at the same time I noticed the Jeep and the SUV in pursuit. Another shot through the rear windshield caused the cracks to spread like a spider web. Using the butt of my carbine again, I chipped at the glass until the whole section fell away, giving me a good vantage point against our pursuers.

“Left or right!” Val yelled.

“It doesn’t matter!” I shouted. “Choose!”

She swerved left, barely slowing down and I slammed against my door. Val cackled with euphoria. I wondered if we would survive the chase only to crash in a ball of fire.

“Keep your head as low as possible,” I reminded her as I saw the Jeep follow our turn. I sighted the tire of the Jeep and was about to squeeze the trigger when the pickup veered right. “Keep it steady!”

Val mumbled something in return. My pulse was pounding in my ears as I fired again. Missed. I tried again and kicked up pavement far from my target. Sounds receded into a vacuum until all I heard was my erratic breathing. Okay, Blaire. Focus! It’s now or never. I took a couple of cleansing breaths then aimed again. I inhaled, held my breath, pulled my belly button to my spine, and squeezed the trigger. The Jeep careened to one side and then the other until it spun one hundred and eighty degrees and stopped at the shoulder facing the opposite direction. The black SUV following it avoided a collision by inches.

“Okay, okay,” I told myself. “One more. Hold it together, Blaire.” I tuned everything out, but the blunt rhythm of a chopper invaded my consciousness. “What the—?”

“Choppers!” Val yelled.

I looked to the front of the vehicle and sure enough, I saw three helicopters closing in fast. Shit, were they for us or for them? Just then, our tire burst or it got hit by a bullet.

“Oh, no! Oh no!” Grant’s sister tried her best to control the vehicle. She had the presence of mind not to slam on the brakes, and, after a harrowing swerve toward an oncoming vehicle, she righted it back in our lane, letting it crawl to a stop. Another bullet bounced on the top of the pickup.

“Keep down.”

But then something happened, the Black SUV made a u-turn and started driving away from us. Two of the choppers flew over us and went in pursuit while another was landing on the open farmland right beside us. The powerful rotors flattened the grass around it. Two men jumped down.

“Stay inside,” I ordered as I hopped out and pointed the barrel at the approaching figures. They removed their helmets and I was almost certain they were on our side. One had striking white blond hair. The dark-haired man reminded me of Grant.

“It’s Viktor Baran!” Val shouted over the noise of the choppers as she scrambled out of the pickup from my side. She pushed the barrel of my rifle down. “They’re the good guys, Blaire. I’ve seen him at Dad’s committee hearings.”

I pressed my lips together, still doubtful.

“These men are incorruptible, trust me.” She was grinning like an idiot. I had no chance to second-guess her because they were upon us. Their clear paratrooper goggles did nothing to mask the baffled look on their faces.

“Did you ladies just shoot your way out of there?” the dark-haired guy asked. His eyes were gleaming with awe and amusement.

“Blaire was amazing. She’s like the female version of Rambo,” Val gushed.

I squirmed under the intense scrutiny of both men. “And Val drove like a maniac.”

“Louise,” Val corrected. “I’m Louise to your Thelma.”

Uhm, did Grant’s sister just become my BFF?

The blond guy introduced himself. “I’m Viktor Baran. This is Gabriel Sullivan. We’re here to take you home.”