Asphalt and Adrenaline
The wind tore at her clothes as the delivery van hurtled through the narrow streets, its engine roaring. Below her, the black SUV carrying Ethan swerved, trying to cut through a congested intersection. The van driver, completely unaware of the hitchhiker on his roof, slammed on the gas to clear the light, pulling the massive vehicle directly side-by-side with the kidnapping car.
This was her only window.
Instinct took over, wiping out any shred of fear. Bracing her boots against the roof's edge, she launched herself into the empty air. She landed hard on the roof of the speeding SUV, the impact sending a jarring shockwave up her spine.
Inside the cabin below, a muffled shout went up. They had heard the impact.
Knowing she only had seconds before they tried to shake her off, she slid backward over the rear roofline, dropping her weight onto the vehicle's rear cargo rack—the exterior storage frame mounted above the trunk. Clinging to the metal bars with one hand as the SUV fishtailed violently, she reached into her jacket with the other and drew her weapon.
Through the tinted rear glass, she could see the chaotic interior. Ethan was pinned in the middle row between two massive, armed men, while two others manned the front seats.
She caught Ethan's eyes in the rearview mirror. With a sharp, commanding jerk of her head, she gave him the signal. Get down.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He threw his weight forward, burying his head against his knees.
The moment his head cleared the line of fire, she squeezed the trigger. Three heavy rounds shattered the rear windshield, raining safety glass into the cabin. Before the two guards in the backseat could draw their weapons, her next shots found their marks. Both men slumped over into the footwells, neutralized in a heartbeat.
"What the hell?!" the front passenger roared, spinning around in his seat.
Realizing their muscle in the back was gone, the driver went into a panic. He slammed on the brakes and violently yanked the steering wheel from side to side, deliberately trying to use the vehicle's momentum to throw her off. The SUV whipped sideways in a brutal, screeching drift.
The sudden, violent centrifugal force broke her grip on the cargo rack. She was launched from the back of the SUV, tumbling across the hard, unforgiving asphalt. Her world spun in a blur of dust, sky, and stone before her head struck the pavement, and everything went black.
Silence. Then, a low murmur of voices.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
"Call an ambulance!"
She blinked, the bright Moroccan sun stinging her eyes. A small crowd of local pedestrians had gathered around her, hovering over her with anxious faces. Her vision was blurred, her body screaming in pain from the asphalt-shattering fall. For a terrifying moment, she couldn't remember her own name.
Then, like a jolt of electricity, the final image flashed through her mind: Ethan's face through the shattered glass. They have Ethan.
The adrenaline pumped back into her veins like liquid fire, completely overriding the pain. She pushed herself up from the pavement, ignoring the gasps of the onlookers, and staggered to her feet. She had to find him. She had to move.
Suddenly, a sleek, roaring sports car cut through the dispersing crowd, tires screeching as it pulled up right beside her. The door flew open, and a man leaped out.
Before she could even raise her hands, he lunged forward, his face a mask of cold fury. She recognized him instantly—a lethal fixer from her past, a ghost she thought she'd left behind.
"You should have let him go," he hissed, his large hand wrapping around her throat with vice-like strength. He lifted her back against the side of his car, cutting off her air. Her vision began to edge with blackness as he strangled her, his grip tightening to break her neck.
But he underestimated her.
Keeping her body heavy and limp to trick him into thinking she was passing out, she slid her right hand down, slick with sweat and dust, back into her jacket pocket. Her fingers brushed the grip of her backup piece.
She didn't bother drawing it completely. She lined up the barrel right through the fabric of her coat and pulled the trigger.
BANG.
The man gasped, his eyes widening in shock as the point-blank round hit him squarely in the abdomen. His grip slackened, and he stumbled backward, clutching his stomach as he collapsed to the pavement.
She didn't waste a single breath staring at him. She scrambled into the driver's seat of his still-idling sports car, slammed the door, and threw it into drive. The engine screamed as she peeled away from the curb, leaving the chaotic scene behind as she raced down the avenue, pushing the vehicle to its absolute limits to hunt down the men who had Ethan.