Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Simon says, “If you can continue driving around there for about ten more minutes, I’ll have two of our—”
“This will be over by then,” I say and push the disconnect button.
My poor Audi… It’s sad that I’ll need to stop driving these beautiful sporty little machines and trade it in for something like an SUV, or Devil forbid, a minivan. It’s always been a great tool for me, a true champion of doing what I want when I want.
Case in point, I whip the car around into a one hundred and eighty degree turn to face the BMW as it screeches into the parking lot.
Revving my engine, I floor the gas pedal and aim the engine directly at my pursuers.
Playing chicken, though, is not on the agenda for this little matchup. No, that would just lengthen the time of this little charade of a chase.
There’s never a need to extend death’s calling.
Fifty feet, and they’re still aimed directly at me.
Twenty feet, and I can see just the slightest hesitation in the driver’s movements.
Five feet, and he veers to the right.
Pushing the pedal to the floor as hard as I can, I feel and see the nose of my car slam into the driver’s side of the BMW.
Good.
My airbag slams me back into the seat after that, and I’m certain my head will be pounding with pain once this is all over with.
Blood pools in my mouth from where I must have bitten my tongue. It’s coppery taste bites into my senses, forcing me to keep my wits.
Ripping my seatbelt from its buckle, I move as fast as I can away from the crumpled-up front of my car.
Yanking the latch on the backseat, I open the way to the trunk.
I wonder for a brief second if I could shut myself in the trunk, leap out like a stripper leaping out of a cake, and scare them while shouting boo?
The black tactical bag I keep stashed for emergencies carries all the hardware I need for a dance, and I know exactly which lovely lady will be my partner today.
Miss lovely MP5. She’s a sexy little number, not unlike Eden. But where my angelic wife is all curves and fire, this little bitch is all sass and brass.
Grabbing a mag from the bag, I push open the passenger door that’s on the opposite side of the BMW.
I deliberately drove my car into as many of their doors as possible. I don’t want them to have all those doors to get out of. The more time they have to get ready, the better chance they have of hurting me.
And hurt me they surely want to.
If this was a simple smash and grab, they wouldn’t have shot at me all those times.
Falling out of the car, I wince as the concrete slams into my shoulder.
My head swims around the world for a moment.
Shit.
Looking under the car, I can see sneakered feet darting to get to my side of the vehicle.
Aiming my gun at the feet, I pull the trigger in four three-round bursts.
The first two attempts go wide, kicking up asphalt.
The third attempt, though, is a thing of beauty. The poor slob takes two shots, one in a shin bone, the other in a foot.
Crumpling to the ground, the guy falls to his knees.
The laugh that erupts from my throat is unstoppable as I shoot the stupid fuck in the balls.
Screams of obscenities erupt from the other side of the car as he falls completely down to the ground.
When I see a sweaty face, I pull the trigger again and watch it explode in a mist of bloody droplets.
So far, I’ve only seen one set of feet coming from the car, meaning I doubt they had four men. I only took out one side of their car, and that leaves me to believe I have two left to deal with.
Pulling the rest of my battered body out of my Audi, I hunch down behind a wheel well. The solid tire isn’t going to hold up to any well placed shots, but it doesn’t have to.
Reaching up, I use the pray and spray method as I turn the MP5 to the BMW’s front windows. I pull the trigger sporadically enough to lay down good suppressing fire.
I love the accuracy of this little bitch, but she’s only a nine millimeter and I need something with more punch and power.
Dropping the MP5, I pull out my Glock and slowly begin to edge my way around the side of my car.
Moving forward, I can feel my face pulling into a grimace as I see the damage I did to my poor, beautiful Audi.
Damn.
She was a good little car.
Checking the BMW, I see that the side and front airbag have been deployed and the front window has been shattered.
Ducking down the moment I see a chrome pistol aimed over the roof of the car, I cringe, hearing the high-pitched whine of bullets flying over my head.