Chapter 8: The Mountain Pass Ambush
The SUV surged forward, its powerful engine roaring as Garza downshifted to navigate a sharp hairpin turn along the winding mountain pass. The tires groaned against the asphalt, fighting for traction on the slick, mist-covered road. Leo braced himself against the door panel, watching through the rear window as the two black sedans rounded the bend behind them, their headlights glaring like the eyes of predatory beasts.
""They're gaining on us!"" Leo shouted over the roar of the engine.
""Hold on!"" Garza yelled, spinning the steering wheel hard to the left as they crossed a narrow concrete bridge spanning a deep, rocky canyon.
Sparks suddenly erupted against the metal guardrail as a barrage of high-velocity rounds impacted the rear quarter-panel of the SUV. The sharp *crack-crack-crack* of suppressed gunfire echoed through the night air, shattering the rear window into a spiderweb of cracks before it completely collapsed, showering the back seat with tiny cubes of safety glass.
Leo ducked instinctively, curling into a ball on the floorboards, pulling his grey sweatpants and sneakers tight against his chest. Fragments of glass rained down over his back and hair, but the thick material of his hoodie protected him from the worst of the shrapnel.
""Garza, take the old logging road turnoff fifty yards ahead!"" Hayes ordered, her voice completely steady despite the incoming fire. She unholstered a compact submachine gun from beneath her trench coat, flicking off the safety with practiced ease.
""The logging road is unpaved—we'll lose suspension!"" Garza yelled back.
""Do it now, or we die in this canyon!"" Hayes snapped.
Garza didn't argue. He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal, throwing the SUV into a violent drift. The vehicle fishtailed across the wet asphalt before plunging sharply to the right, narrowly missing a massive pine tree as it tore down a steep, unpaved dirt path hidden behind a wall of overgrown ferns.
The sudden transition from smooth pavement to rough, rutted mud sent the SUV bouncing violently. Inside the cabin, everything that wasn't bolted down rattled furiously. Leo grabbed the back of the front passenger seat to steady himself, his knuckles turning white.
Behind them, the two pursuing black sedans overshot the hidden turnoff, their brake lights flaring red as they skidded across the wet highway, unable to make the sharp angle at high speed.
""We lost their direct tail, but they know where this road leads,"" Garza said, gripping the steering wheel as he navigated a series of deep puddles that splashed high against the windshield. ""It's a dead end at the old timber mill three miles up.""
""Not a dead end,"" Hayes corrected, pulling a ruggedized satellite communicator from her tactical belt and tapping a sequence of emergency override keys. ""It's an extraction point. If our timing is right, the transport chopper should already be descending into the clearing.""
Leo peered through the shattered rear frame of the SUV. The forest canopy overhead was so dense it blocked out the moonlight, creating a claustrophobic tunnel of shadows and flickering tree trunks. The only sound was the howling engine of the SUV and the heavy thud of their tires tearing through mud and gravel.
""What about my dad?"" Leo asked, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and lingering anger. ""You said he knows how to take care of himself, but what if he didn't make it out of the house?""
May you like
Hayes glanced back at him, her blue eyes softening slightly in the dim dashboard light. ""Your father gave us the time we needed to get this far, Leo. If we survive this night and upload the contents of that drive to the public wire services, everything he fought for—everything he sacrificed—will be vindicated. But we have to reach that extraction point.""
The SUV crested a small rise, and the dense trees suddenly opened up into a massive, mist-shrouded clearing. In the center of the abandoned timber mill sat a rusted loading dock, and hovering just above the ground with a deafening, rhythmic roar of rotor blades was a tactical black helicopter, its landing lights cutting through the fog like twin swords.
