Chapter 12 - Collision Course
The heavy black transport van plowed through the wooden barrier with a deafening crash of splintering timber and snapping metal. Dust exploded into the air as the vehicle slammed squarely into the side of the state police cruiser holding Marcus Vance, crushing the rear door inward and pushing the squad car ten feet across the gravel.
“Ambush! Take cover!” Sergeant Miller roared, diving behind the hood of his cruiser while drawing his service pistol.
The remaining state troopers scattered instantly, dropping to one knee behind the patrol cars and leveling their firearms at the mysterious van.
Jax grabbed Leo by the back of his oversized jacket, shoving the boy hard beneath the chassis of the rusted dump truck out of the line of fire.
“Stay down, kid! No matter what happens, do not move!” Jax commanded, his voice raw with urgency.
Leo curled into a tight ball in the dirt, his small hands clamping tightly over his ears as the deafening pop of gunfire shattered the night.
The side door of the black transport van slid open with a violent metallic screech. Two men in heavy tactical gear, wearing unmarked black helmets and balaclavas, stepped out firing automatic rifles over the roof of the smashed squad car.
“Cover the vehicle! Get him out!” one of the tactical thugs shouted over the gunfire.
Sergeant Miller returned fire, his service pistol barking twice before a hail of enemy bullets chewed the hood of his cruiser into shrapnel, forcing him to duck down.
“Cease fire! Cease fire!” Miller yelled into his shoulder radio. “All units, we have an armed extraction in progress at the old mill! Need immediate tactical backup on route seventy-two!”
Inside the crushed cruiser, the rear window was smashed out with the butt of an assault rifle. Marcus Vance, bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, was hauled bodily out of the wreck by the two tactical operatives.
“Took you long enough,” Marcus wheezed, wiping blood from his eyes as he clambered into the side door of the van. “Captain Thomas send you?”
“Move, move, move!” one of the operatives barked, leaping back into the passenger seat as the driver slammed the accelerator to the floor.
The black van spun its tires in a furious arc of dust and gravel, turning sharply back toward the badlands highway.
Jax crawled out from beneath the truck, ignoring the searing pain tearing through his bandaged left shoulder. He spotted his black chopper still resting on its kickstand near the boulders.
“Miller! Give me your keys!” Jax yelled, pointing frantically toward a parked state trooper motorcycle.
Miller popped open the saddlebag of the police bike and tossed the heavy brass key ring directly to the biker without a second thought.
“Go get him, Jax,” Miller shouted over the fading roar of the fleeing van. “Bring him down!”
Jax caught the keys mid-air, swung his heavy leg over the saddle of the police motorcycle, and fired the engine with a sharp, aggressive twist of the throttle.
Leo scrambled out from beneath the truck, his hazel eyes wide with pure panic as he watched Jax prepare to ride off into the dark badlands alone.
“Jax! Wait!” Leo cried out, sprinting toward the bike.
Jax paused, looking down at the eight-year-old boy whose entire world had just been upended.
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“Stay with the sergeant, kid,” Jax said, his voice dropping into a solemn, heavy promise. “I’m going to finish what your dad started. Once and for all.”
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