window was an almost opaque spider web of cracks, but through the fist-sized hole where the bullet had struck, Dane could see the vehicle racing to catch them. Professor put the accelerator pedal on the floor again and the sedan surged forward.
Dane had complete faith in his teammate’s skill behind the wheel; every member of the team had gone through an intensive two-week long tactical driving course. Unfortunately, the techniques that worked on a busy highway or a crowded urban street were of little use on a winding country road with poorly banked turns and a rough compacted dirt surface, covered sporadically with loose gravel. They might be able to stay ahead of the van, but the road and the laws of physics almost certainly wouldn’t let them outdistance or outmaneuver the pursuit.
“Screw this,” muttered Dane. “Professor, slow down a little.”
“Slow down?” Professor and Alex were almost in harmony.
“You know what they say about the best defense. Reel ‘em in. Don’t make it look too easy, but let them catch up to us.”
Professor shook his head. “You’re the boss, boss.”
Dane crawled into the back seat and used the captured revolver to clear away the broken window. The van was closing the gap, but for what Dane had in mind, it would have to get a lot closer.
“Stay down,” he warned.
Alex ducked her head and her eyes came to rest on the gun in his hands. “How many shots do you have left?”
“Don’t worry about it . Professor, speed up a little. Make them work for it. Then when I say the word, you slam on the brakes, got it?”
“Loud and clear ,” Professor answered, betraying none of the doubt or confusion he surely felt.
“The brakes?” said Alex, incredulous.
Dane didn’t elaborate, but motioned for her to stay low. The van was gaining, slow but steady, two hundred yards back…one-fifty….
“Ease off. And get ready.”
The van seemed to surge ahead, closing to within a dozen car lengths. Its windshield reflected only the sky and the green of passing trees, hiding the occupants and their intentions, but as the gap tightened Dane saw a figure lean out of the left side window.
“Incoming!”
The report and the sound of the bullet slamming into the sedan’s roof were almost simultaneous. There was another shot and a round sizzled through the air above Dane, punched through the passenger seat headrest, and smacked into the windshield.
“What are you waiting for?” Alex shouted. “Shoot back!”
She didn’t sound nearly as frightened as Dane would have expected under the circumstances, but maybe that was because she didn’t know what he was really planning.
“Wait for it, Professor,” Dane yelled, weighing the revolver in his hand and wondering if his crazy plan had even a snowball’s chance in Hell of succeeding.
Only one way to find out .
“Now!”
Professor stomped the brake pedal and the sedan skidded along the gravel roadway. The sudden deceleration threw Dane against the back of the passenger’s seat, but he was expecting it. The hunters weren’t.
The van seemed to shoot forward, filling the empty frame of the sedan’s rear window. The driver reacted instinctively, slamming on his own brakes, but it was already too late.
Dane hurled the empty revolver at the approaching windshield, even as t he van skidded forward. The reinforced glass did not shatter with the impact, but the heavy steel pistol chipped a huge pockmark in the tempered pane and sent out long cracks like lightning bolts. An instant later, the van slammed into the trunk of the sedan, accordioning the rear end and propelling the smaller car forward.
Dane was ready for that, too. As soon as the gun left his fingers, he hauled himself through the broken rear window and launched himself at the van’s fractured windshield.
It had to be the craziest thing he had ever done, but he didn’t let himself think about that, didn’t think about what would happen if he mistimed his leap, or if
Dane had complete faith in his teammate’s skill behind the wheel; every member of the team had gone through an intensive two-week long tactical driving course. Unfortunately, the techniques that worked on a busy highway or a crowded urban street were of little use on a winding country road with poorly banked turns and a rough compacted dirt surface, covered sporadically with loose gravel. They might be able to stay ahead of the van, but the road and the laws of physics almost certainly wouldn’t let them outdistance or outmaneuver the pursuit.
“Screw this,” muttered Dane. “Professor, slow down a little.”
“Slow down?” Professor and Alex were almost in harmony.
“You know what they say about the best defense. Reel ‘em in. Don’t make it look too easy, but let them catch up to us.”
Professor shook his head. “You’re the boss, boss.”
Dane crawled into the back seat and used the captured revolver to clear away the broken window. The van was closing the gap, but for what Dane had in mind, it would have to get a lot closer.
“Stay down,” he warned.
Alex ducked her head and her eyes came to rest on the gun in his hands. “How many shots do you have left?”
“Don’t worry about it . Professor, speed up a little. Make them work for it. Then when I say the word, you slam on the brakes, got it?”
“Loud and clear ,” Professor answered, betraying none of the doubt or confusion he surely felt.
“The brakes?” said Alex, incredulous.
Dane didn’t elaborate, but motioned for her to stay low. The van was gaining, slow but steady, two hundred yards back…one-fifty….
“Ease off. And get ready.”
The van seemed to surge ahead, closing to within a dozen car lengths. Its windshield reflected only the sky and the green of passing trees, hiding the occupants and their intentions, but as the gap tightened Dane saw a figure lean out of the left side window.
“Incoming!”
The report and the sound of the bullet slamming into the sedan’s roof were almost simultaneous. There was another shot and a round sizzled through the air above Dane, punched through the passenger seat headrest, and smacked into the windshield.
“What are you waiting for?” Alex shouted. “Shoot back!”
She didn’t sound nearly as frightened as Dane would have expected under the circumstances, but maybe that was because she didn’t know what he was really planning.
“Wait for it, Professor,” Dane yelled, weighing the revolver in his hand and wondering if his crazy plan had even a snowball’s chance in Hell of succeeding.
Only one way to find out .
“Now!”
Professor stomped the brake pedal and the sedan skidded along the gravel roadway. The sudden deceleration threw Dane against the back of the passenger’s seat, but he was expecting it. The hunters weren’t.
The van seemed to shoot forward, filling the empty frame of the sedan’s rear window. The driver reacted instinctively, slamming on his own brakes, but it was already too late.
Dane hurled the empty revolver at the approaching windshield, even as t he van skidded forward. The reinforced glass did not shatter with the impact, but the heavy steel pistol chipped a huge pockmark in the tempered pane and sent out long cracks like lightning bolts. An instant later, the van slammed into the trunk of the sedan, accordioning the rear end and propelling the smaller car forward.
Dane was ready for that, too. As soon as the gun left his fingers, he hauled himself through the broken rear window and launched himself at the van’s fractured windshield.
It had to be the craziest thing he had ever done, but he didn’t let himself think about that, didn’t think about what would happen if he mistimed his leap, or if
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