True Blue

CHAPTER 43

MACE HEARD the car long before she saw it.

She checked her side mirror. Black sedan, tinted glass, big motor, and the rear passenger-side window easing down. Never a good scenario, especially in this part of D.C.

She hit the throttle and the Ducati leapt forward, but the sedan still muscled up closer. She saw the gun muzzle with a suppressor can through the slit of the open window. The shooter took aim through the scope on his sniper rifle while his partner handled the wheel with an expert touch. The crosshairs settled on Mace’s helmet and the man’s finger closed on the trigger. Sensing that the shooter had drawn his bead, Mace was about to jump the curb when there was a squeal of rubber. Another car flew between the sedan and Mace, and banged against the big car.

The man fired right at the instant the collision occurred and his shot got screwed. Instead of the round drilling a black hole in Mace’s head, the driver’s-side window of the car between Mace and the shooter exploded, with glass fragments propelled outward like tiny meteors.

Mace recognized the car that had saved her. “Roy!” she screamed.

The shooter cursed and fired again while his partner slammed the sedan into the smaller Audi. Roy ducked down as the second round zipped over his head and shattered the passenger window. He cut the wheel hard to the left and the Audi punched the sedan’s front fender at just the right angle to send the bigger car into a counterclockwise spin. The shooter pulled his rifle back and closed the window while the driver tried to steer the car out of the spin.

Roy hit the gas and the Audi pulled next to Mace. Roy looked at her through the open window.

“I’ve got your back,” he said gamely, glassy debris in his hair, his eyes wide with adrenaline and fear.

Mace lifted her visor and yelled, “Are you nuts!”

“Apparently, yeah,” he said a little breathlessly.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Like I just said, watching your back.”

“They could’ve killed you.”

“But they didn’t. Right?”

Mace checked their six.

The sedan had pulled out of the spin and was bearing down on both of them, its eight cylinders popping.

“Well, here they come again.”

Roy looked behind him. “Oh, shit. Now what?”

Mace shouted, “Follow me, Roy.”