Chapter 128
Lars
Six Miles From The Hospital
As Renzo swerved in and out of traffic, I looked out the rear window of the Mercedes.
No one was following us.
No black SUVs in hot pursuit.
This isn’t good.
Dario was frantic – or as frantic as he got, anyway. He was angry, but he still maintained control.
“Where are they?” he barked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Renzo, let them catch us.”
Renzo complied and cut his speed by a third, matching the traffic around us.
“Why aren’t they following us?!” Dario demanded.
I was wondering that, too.
“I don’t know. I put seven rounds in the lead car’s windshield – they know it was us.”
“We have to go back!”
Shit.
I was afraid he’d say that.
I knew he was terrified for Alessandra – I was, too –
But taking him back to the hospital would be diving headfirst into the lion’s den.
“Renzo, turn around,” Dario ordered.
Renzo pulled up to a light to make a left-hand U-turn.
In the opposite lane, a steady stream of northbound cars sped past us. Renzo waited for a break in traffic.
“We should think about this,” I told Dario.
“There’s nothing to think about,” he said angrily. “We left my wife back there to lure them away. They didn’t follow us, so we’re going back.”
“Niccolo will kill me if I take you back there.”
“And I’ll kill you if you don’t,” Dario snapped.
I thought about making a joke – You could TRY – but now wasn’t the time.
He was frightened for Alessandra. She was all that mattered to him.
The light was still green, and Renzo was still waiting for an opening.
I turned back to look through the rear window.
Still no sign of the SUVs.
Goddammit –
Why didn’t they follow us?!
“Let Renzo drop me off at the hospital,” I said as I turned around. “That way we can – ”
I didn’t have time to finish my sentence.
A black Cadillac SUV in the opposite lane of traffic entered the intersection going fast –
And accelerated HARD as it swerved towards us.
“LOOK OUT!” I screamed at Renzo.
He didn’t have time to react.
The SUV hit us head-on, caving in the front of the car on the driver’s side.
My head slammed into the seat in front of me, temporarily stunning me.
The Mercedes was rammed backwards into southbound traffic –
And we were hit again nearly as hard from the rear.
Dario was thrown against me as the sound of crashing metal filled the air.
My ears were ringing as I tried to clear my head.
How did the Camorra come from the OPPOSITE direction of the hospital?!
The Mercedes came to a halt, though the world still felt like it was spinning.
I looked over at Dario. He looked stunned.
“You alright?” I asked –
And realized I was yelling over the ringing in my ears.
Dario nodded, his face still blank with shock.
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 seatbelt and Dario’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.
There was a pause in the gunfire.
I figured I knew why.
The windows had been opaque from all the cracks, so the gunmen hadn’t been able to see inside until the glass was blown out.
A voice yelled something that sounded like Italian, but wasn’t.
“Nun stanno dinto!”
I had no idea what the fuck the literal translation was, but I guessed it was They’re not in there!
In Italian, that would’ve been Non ci sono!
He was speaking in some other language –
Probably whatever they used in Naples.
I heard the clack-chunk! of a sub-machinegun magazine slamming into place as the other guy yelled, “Sarranno a ll’ato lato d’a machina!”
Machina meant ‘car.’
I figured he was saying, They must be on the other side of the car –
Even though in Italian that would’ve been Devono essere dall’altro lato della macchina!
I didn’t have time for the finer points of grammar, though.
I had a brief second –
And I used it to my advantage.
Opening the car door and shooting through the blown-out window on the other side would have taken too much time –
So I stood up at the rear of the car, my Glock aimed at where I’d heard the nearest voice.
In a split second, I took everything in.
One guy – an ugly motherfucker with an AK-47 – was on the other side of the car, directly opposite me.
The second shooter was closer to the Mercedes’s hood. I registered him in my peripheral vision.
The first guy’s eyes widened as he saw me.
His AK-47 was pointed inside the car’s shattered window.
He tried to swing it over to me –
Too slow.
I double-tapped him –
BLAM BLAM!
– and ducked back down as his chest exploded red.
A half-second later, the second shooter opened fire.
He was smarter than his buddy, though.
He knew he shouldn’t waste all his bullets on automatic –
So he was firing in bursts of three.
brAT-TAT-TAT!
There were pauses between the gunfire, too.
I heard his feet grit on broken glass.
Scritch scritch –
Followed by more bullets.
brAT-TAT-TAT!
By the sound of it, he was headed towards the front of the car.
This was going to be ugly.
A pistol versus an AK-47.
I figured the odds were three to one against that I was going to make it out alive –
But I’d be goddamned if I didn’t take the asshole with me.
I pulled Dario behind me and stepped over him while staying in a crouch.
Then I knelt and aimed towards the front of the car.
brAT-TAT-TAT!
The metal hood of the Mercedes pinged with bullets.
I thought of Rachel.
I love you, baby.
I’m sorry this is how it ends.
I heard the scritch-scritch of his boots on glass –
And suddenly, there was a screeeeeech from behind the shooter.
Tires on asphalt –
The metallic krang-krang-krang of a car clipping other vehicles –
And suddenly the shooter was firing fully automatic in the opposite direction.
brATTATTATATTATAT!
He was distracted by whatever I was hearing.
I had one shot.
I stood up, ready to fire –
And watched in astonishment as a black Mercedes barreled into the intersection –
Plowed through the Camorra shooter –
And sent him flying over the Mercedes’s roof like a rag doll.
I saw the driver’s face as he shot past.
Giorgio!