Chapter Thirty-Six
Kirk
Just as I'm surveilling the situation, Gretchen pokes her head up like a curious meerkat, her eyes flicking one way, then the other.
Being trapped in my own SUV is not my idea of a good time.
The lass twines her hair round and round her finger, over and over.
I expect she might start gnawing on her hair any moment too.
I won't claim ahmno bothered at all by our situation because that would be a lie.
If I were the only one in the vehicle, I'd jump out and face the unknown.
But Gretchen is here. So is Archie. It will be my fault if anything happens to them.
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to do something reckless. Aye, ahmno one to twiddle my thumbs when there's danger about. But with these two under my protection, patience becomes a necessary virtue.
"What exactly are we waiting for?" Archie whispers from the back seat. "Dinnae see any villains. Let's just go, eh? Hit the accelerator hard, Kirk, like nothing can stop ye. 's e Albannaich a th' annainn!"
I give him my best deadly glare. "'s e plàigh a th' annad."
Gretchen stares at me. "What were you two saying?"
"We are Scots," Archie not-so-helpfully tells her---while smirking, of course. "I said that to Kirk, and then he told me I'm a plague. Not really feeling the camaraderie here, mate."
"Shut your bloody mouth, Archie."
"Whatever. Ahmno sensitive like you." He leans over the center console of the SUV and whispers, "I assume ye've got a plan."
Gretchen lifts her brows---at me, not the cacan Archie. "Care to share your brilliant plan?"
"No."
She raises her brows. "We're a team, Kirk. All three of us. You can't be the lone wolf right now because we need every possible advantage to get out of this mess."
I scrub my hand over my stubble, gazing out into the murky garage. If I weren't the only person in this car, I'd floor it and rip out of the garage with tires squealing. But I am not alone.
Gretchen leans closer to whisper in my ear, her tone almost erotic. "Do it your way, Kirk. Burn rubber, squeal tires, and show these bastards how Scots roll. I'd love to see that."
My body tightens at her words and her breath hot on my ear. Bloody hell. This woman knows exactly how to push my buttons.
"Don't encourage him," Archie groans. "His ego's already the size of Beann Dealgach."
I ignore him and lock eyes with Gretchen. "You're certain that's what you want, lass? Because once we move, there's no turning back."
She gently licks my ear, coiling her tongue around it. "You didn't come all this way to cower in inside a car." She slides her hand down to my groin. "You are the hottest, toughest stuntman in the world, so go get 'em, cowboy."
I chuckle softly. "Cowboy? I'm a Highlander, lass. There's a difference."
But her touch has done the trick, sending molten lava through my veins. My muscles tense, ready for action. Nothing like a beautiful woman's confidence to stoke a man's boldest instincts.
"Fine," I growl. "Hold tight."
I rev the engine once, twice, feeling the vibrations hum through the vehicle. The sound echoes in the garage, broadcasting our intentions to whoever might be listening. Good. Let them know we're coming.
"If yer the praying sort, do it now," I tell Gretchen and Archie as I shift into gear.
Archie snorts. "Already did, mate. Asked the Almighty to save me from your driving."
I ignore him and focus on plotting our exit.
The garage door lies twenty yards ahead.
Between us and freedom are two black sedans, parked at angles, creating a deliberate blockade.
"Gretchen, stay close to me. Archie, if ye've got your laptop handy, now would be the time to work some magic on those security cameras. "
"Already on it, boss." His fingers fly across his keyboard. "Give me thirty seconds to loop their feed."
I wrap my hands around the steering wheel, preparing for whatever might come next. The SUV's engine purrs, waiting for my command like a loyal Highland beast.
Gretchen fastens her seatbelt. "You're going to ram them, aren't you?"
"Aye. Physics works in our favor. My SUV outweighs their cars."
"Hold on to yer erses," Archie says while clutching his laptop. "Glad I came along, though. Cannae believe I almost stayed home with my computers instead."
I tighten my grip on the wheel, nearly strangling it. "Are we ready?"
"Done," Archie confirms as he snaps his laptop shut. "Cameras are looped. They'll see nothing but an empty garage for the next five minutes."
I glance at Gretchen, who nods firmly.
"Brace yourselves," I warn, then slam my foot on the accelerator.
The SUV lurches forward with a mighty roar. I aim for the gap between the two four-door contraptions at a speed that makes the tires squeal on the concrete floor. The SUV's engine growls hungrily as we barrel toward our target.
"Whoo-hoo!" Archie shouts, bracing himself against the door while grinning.
I focus on the narrow gap between the vehicles, calculating angles and momentum like I would for any risky stunt.
The difference is, this isn't rehearsed, and these aren't stunt vehicles.
The first impact slams into us with a sickening crunch of metal.
I hit the left sedan at its rear quarter panel, sending it spinning away.
The SUV shudders but plows forward, the momentum carrying us through as I wrench the wheel to avoid the second car's broadside.
"Incoming!" Gretchen shouts, pointing to a figure emerging from the shadows who has a pistol raised at us.
I swerve hard right, using the remaining car as a shield. The bullet pings harmlessly off metal as we careen toward the exit.
"Keep yer head down!" I bark at Gretchen, who's already ducking low in her seat. "You too, Archie!"
My world narrows to the garage door ahead, still frustratingly shut. I've got two options: find an opener, or make our own bloody exit. "Archie! Can ye hack the door controls?"
"On it!" His fingers are already clacking on the keyboard again, even as he's thrown to and fro by my hairpin turns. "Just need thirty seconds, boss!"
"We dinnae have thirty seconds," I growl, spotting more movement in my rearview mirror. At least three armed men are emerging from a side entrance.
Gretchen's eyes meet mine, wide but clear. "Ram it, Kirk."
"That's my lass." I floor the accelerator again.
The SUV leaps forward like a charging bull.
The SUV rips through the garage door like it's made of cardboard, and a metallic screech deafens us as we burst into the open air.
Sparks fly across the hood, and the front end crumples, but we're through at last.
"Holy shite!" Archie yelps from the backseat. "That was better than any stunt I've ever seen ye do on film!"
My only response is a grunt. But now I need to focus on the road ahead.
We've broken free of the garage, but that doesn't mean we're safe.
Far from it. The road stretches before us, winding its way down from the industrial complex toward the main highway.
It's our best chance at losing whoever these armed bastards are.
Dougal's men, that's all we know.
"How are ye feeling, lass?" I ask Gretchen, sparing her a quick glance while keeping most of my attention on the road.
She's breathing hard, but her eyes are bright with exhilaration rather than fear, and a wide smile stretches her lips. "Never better, cowboy. That was...unbelievably hot. You're a rock star, Kirk Balfour!"
"Dinnae celebrate yet." I check the rearview mirror. Two black sedans have burst through the mangled garage door behind us, their headlights almost blinding us. They must be LED lights. "We've got company."
The road ahead twists down the hillside in a series of tight switchbacks. That's a nightmare for most drivers, but for me? It's home turf. I've trained on roads far worse than this and performed stunts that would make these curves feel like a kiddie ride.
"Hold tight," I tell Gretchen and Archie, downshifting to take the first bend at a speed that has Archie cursing colorfully in Gaelic.
"Mhac na galla!" the laddie exclaims, looking a touch pale. "Are ye trying to kill us before we even get shot? Slow down!"
"Trust me, Archie. If ye want to keep your head attached to yer shoulders, fast is exactly what we need." I take another hairpin turn, feeling the tires grip and then slip slightly as I push the vehicle to its limits. The SUV leans hard, but I've calculated the physics down to the last detail.
"They're gaining!" Gretchen calls out, twisted in her seat to look through the rear window.
I check the mirror again. She's right. One of the sedans is closing the gap, its driver clearly no amateur. Time to show these bastards what a real stunt driver can do.
"Gretchen, open the glove compartment," I instruct, taking my eyes off the road just long enough to see that she complies.
She rummages through the contents of the glove box. "What am I looking for?"
"A small black case." I keep my eyes fixed on the winding road ahead as I take yet another hairpin turn at breakneck speed. "Should be under the owner's manual."
She rifles through papers and whatnot, then pulls out the slim case with a triumphant, "Got it!"
"Open it."
Inside is a small remote detonator---nothing fancy, just a simple trigger mechanism with a safety switch. I designed it myself for situations exactly like this, though I imagined it would be a party trick, not a life-or-death situation.
"What is this?" Gretchen asks, holding the object delicately between her fingers as if it might bite her.
"It's insurance." I navigate another sharp turn, feeling the SUV's tires grip the edge of the road. "When I was surveilling the compound earlier, I placed a few surprises along this road. Just in case."
Archie lets out a low whistle. "You clever bastard."
Gretchen's jaw drops. ""You planned for this?"
"I always plan for the worst, lass. It's kept me alive this long." I nod toward the detonator. "Flip the safety switch and wait for my signal."
The lead sedan is gaining on us, now less than fifty yards behind. The driver knows these roads too well for my liking. Time to even the odds.
"Now?" Gretchen asks, hovering her thumb over the trigger.
"Not yet, lass." I round another sharp turn. "Need to time it just right."
I reduce my speed slightly on the next curve, baiting them into closing the gap. The sedan behind us takes the bait, accelerating hard to catch us on the straightaway.
"Now!" I shout.
Gretchen presses the trigger.
The explosion rips through the road behind us, a brilliant flash of orange and red that lights up the darkening sky.
Chunks of asphalt and debris rain down as the first sedan swerves wildly, its driver fighting to maintain control on the suddenly disintegrated road.
The car slams into the guardrail with a sickening crunch of metal.
Its front end crumples like an accordion.
"Holy shite!" Archie yells, his face pressed against the back window. "That was bloody amazing!"
"One down," I say, keeping my eyes locked on the road ahead. "But we've still got the second car to worry about."
I check the rearview mirror again. The trailing sedan has slowed, cautiously navigating around the smoking wreckage of its companion. They're being smart now, keeping their distance. The driver is probably radioing for backup. I need to inform the authorities of what transpired here.
So, I switch tactics, sliding through an alley that's barely wide enough for our SUV to fit---and head straight for Dùndubhan.