Private Rogue

Chapter 91

The Toyota’s engine roared and the suspension clattered and clunked as I followed Andreyev along the rutted forest track. His car had more grunt than mine, but we were both pushing our vehicles to the limit. Plumes of smoke belched from the twin exhaust of the Porsche SUV. The Toyota’s cabin filled with the stench of overheated metal and I opened the window for a blast of fresh air. Andreyev’s Cayenne was churning mud and snow, flinging it everywhere. With the window open I could hear the growl of the engines and every bang and thud as our chassis bounced around violently.

We sped along, winding between the trees. I fought for control of the Toyota at every bend while the snow and ice threatened to send me spinning. Both cars fishtailed wildly, wheels churning, and exhausts burning.

As we came out of a bend, I accelerated and nudged his bumper. He pushed his car faster and opened some distance. I could see the forest thinning ahead, and then clear sky. The track spat us onto a single-lane highway. Andreyev bounced through a bank of slush onto asphalt and skidded round to head south. I narrowly avoided colliding with a mail truck heading north. Ignoring the prolonged sound of the truck’s horn, I swung south to chase the Russian.

The forest sped by in a blur on both sides as we shot along the country road. Andreyev overtook a VW Golf on a blind bend and I followed, narrowly missing an oncoming eighteen-wheeler. My heart thundered at the sound of an angry blast from its loud horn. I swung in behind Andreyev and squared up just in the nick of time.

I forced the Toyota down two gears and hit the gas. The car jumped forward and I drew alongside the Porsche. Another truck was heading directly for me. Fast. I must have been touching eighty when I swung the wheel hard and crashed into Andreyev’s car. He fought for control, but I held firm and forced him off the road. I swung into the lane as the truck passed by with a roar.

Next to me, Andreyev’s car hit a patch of ice, skidded and came to a crashing stop against a tree. I pulled off the road up ahead of him and jumped out as he emerged from the car. He was dazed but he had a pistol in his hand.

I ran at him. He fired wildly. He tried to adjust but was bleeding into one eye, struggling to focus. I reached him before he corrected his aim, and drove my shoulder into his gut. We both crashed against the back door of the Porsche. He brought the gun down on my neck but I stood firm, instinctively fighting the blank pull of unconsciousness. I swung a punch that connected with his chin.

Another gunshot, this one close to my ear. The world screamed, but I ignored the pain and drove a left cross into his nose. He crumpled and I followed up with a combination of jabs and a hook that sent him to the ground.

He dropped the gun and tried to crawl away through the snow, whining like a wounded animal. I picked up his pistol and held it against his head.

“It’s over, Victor,” I said. “It’s over.”

He rolled onto his back and looked at me with hate-filled eyes.

I kept the gun trained on him as I walked over to the Porsche. I leaned through the open driver’s door, reached past the burst airbags, and picked up the Bull from the driver’s footwell.

“You traded it all for nothing,” I said, walking back toward him. “Your people should never have picked such a common object to store your data. This is a replica I bought on Wall Street first thing this morning.”

I tossed the Bull into the snow. Andreyev’s face twisted in despair.

“The original is on its way to people who will know how to decode it. People in the US Government.”

His head dropped. He looked utterly defeated. I leaned against the Porsche and kept the gun on him as I listened to the sound of approaching sirens.