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A growl from his team leader. “Copy. Where are you?”
Trace gave him their approximate location.
“I’m a mile behind you. Return to the main road. I’ll shake the goons from your tail if they don’t engage before I reach you.”
“Copy.” He ended the call.
At the next right, Ben slid around the corner, sprinted for the next intersection, then took a quick left. All the while, the car in pursuit stayed with them, not inching up but not falling back, either. Wary over the RPG or waiting for more help? Trace’s bet was the latter.
“Can we get up now?” Ruth asked.
“No.” Ben glanced at her. “I know it’s not comfortable, but the discomfort is nothing compared to being shot or dead. The engine gives you the most protection.”
Five minutes later, Ben said, “Airfield is five miles away. This is a barren stretch of land. If they’re going to make a move, they’ll do it soon.”
An SUV sped around the chase car and encroached into the next lane. The chase car swerved to the right, spun, flipped, and skidded to a stop, car tilted on its side at the bottom of a ditch. “Nico took out the vehicle pursuing us.”
“Perfect timing because we have more ahead.”
Trace glanced up as Ben jammed on the brakes, the SUV sliding toward a concrete barrier blocking the road. The SUV slammed into the barrier on the driver’s side and the vehicles waiting half a block away started to move their direction.
“Out,” Ben snapped.
Trace grabbed the Go bags and equipment bags and tossed one of each to Ben, grabbed his own and dived from the vehicle behind Bridget. He and Ben tugged the women down and pushed them against the wheel wells, then took aim at the approaching vehicles and commenced firing.
Glass broke and tires squealed as their bullets hit the approaching vehicles. Behind the operatives, the SUV driven by Nico raced toward them. “Get ready to run,” he told Bridget.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
The thugs bailed from their vehicles and opened fire.
He pushed Bridget closer to the vehicle, praying Nico reached them before a bullet struck one of the women.
Trace and Ben kept up a barrage of gunfire, holding Hugo’s men at bay. When he emptied a magazine, Trace dropped it, slammed in another one, and resumed firing.
He heard the SUV’s engine screaming as Nico pushed his vehicle to its limits. His team leader skidded to a stop a few feet from their location. “When I tell you to move, run as fast as you can to the backseat of Nico’s SUV. Keep low and don’t look back.”
“Trace.” Bridget’s voice shook.
“I’ve got your back. Trust me.”
“I’m worried about you, not me.”
“I’ll be fine.” He glanced at Ben. “Ready?”
His friend nodded.
“Go!” He and Ben laid down cover fire as the women raced toward the SUV.
Seconds later, Nico yelled, “Now.” His MP5 spat out round after round as Ben and Trace grabbed their bags and ran toward the SUV. Using his body to block the view of the women, Trace followed Bridget into the back and Ben dove into the shotgun seat.
“Get down,” Trace instructed the women and lowered the window to continue firing as Nico tore away from the scene and headed for the jet.
“Call the pilot and tell him we’re coming in hot,” Nico said to Ben. “Everyone else is at the airfield.”
“What about Hugo?” Ruth asked. “What will we do about him?”
