I looked over at Renzo –
Who was unconscious in the front.
The airbag had gone off and was pinning him to the driver’s seat.
He looked like he was still alive, but he was definitely out.
My training kicked in, and I assessed the situation.
The Camorra rammed us.
Which means they’re probably –
The chatter of automatic gunfire filled the air –
And the front windshield of the Mercedes turned into a white web of cracks.
Brattattattattattatattatat!
“GET DOWN!” I yelled at Dario.
Another stream of bullets blasted the driver’s-side windows next to me and Renzo, turning them white with cracks.
The glass was bulletproof, but it wouldn’t hold forever. Not under a barrage of sub-machinegun fire.
We had to get out of the car, or we’d be sitting ducks when the glass gave way.
I undid my seatbeltandDario’s, pulled my Glock, scrambled across Dario, opened the door, and tumbled out onto the street in a low squat.
The gunfire was louder now that I wasn’t inside the car anymore.
BRATTATTATATTATAT!
I checked behind our Mercedes.
No shooters – just several wrecked cars.
Nobody was firing at me directly –
Which meant the gunmen were on the other side of the car.
Traffic had stopped in both directions.
Actually, to be accurate, traffic was still moving – it was just pulling frantically off onto side streets. The cars behind us were trying to back up and get away.
I reached back and pulled Dario out onto the asphalt.
“Keep down!” I hissed.
He squatted down beside me, and I quietly closed the door behind us.
Not a second too late –
Because the glass gave way on the other side of the car.
They must’ve got Renzo –
Because I saw blood spray the inside of the passenger-side windows.
