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“Where are you taking me?” Cynthia asked nervously from the front passenger seat of my truck.
“Somewhere safe,” I said. I had left the two guards tied up in Cynthia’s house and called 911 before we left. After explaining the situation to Tanner, she had agreed to put a team together and fly down to New Orleans as soon as she could arrange transport through the Bureau.
“I’m scared,” Cynthia murmured.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“I saved you from those two assholes, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but that don’t mean nothin’ around here. You could be just as bad as them?”
“And yet here you sit - in a truck with a stranger that you don’t trust.”
“You don’t know me.”
“You’re right. I’m just trying to get you somewhere safe so you can tell the right people your story.”
“What people? What story?”
“I’m just going to introduce you to some friends of mine that can keep you safe, and you can tell them what you told me.”
“Cops? I ain’t no snitch!”
“Do you want to go back to those men?”
“Well, no...”
“Do you think it’s right what they’re doing in your brother’s name?”
“Some of them cops deserved it.”
It was hard to bite my tongue. I had lost friends that had been like family to me because of how they had used her brother. But I knew that picking at that scab wouldn’t solve anything. I needed her to be willing to tell Agent Tanner her story, so we could put an end to the attacks against law enforcement and the pending act of terrorism.
“Innocent people are going to die if we don’t stop this right here and right now. And if I bring you back, they will kill you. Is that what you want?”
“Well, no...”
“So, trust me and-”
Arguing with Cynthia had caused me to drop my guard long enough to miss the SUV barreling toward us. I looked up just as its push bar impacted the rear bumper of my truck, causing me to lose control as the truck took a hard right into a parked car.
The airbags deployed as we crashed. I heard Kruger yelp in the back seat as time seemed to stand still. The airbag hit me in the face, knocking the wind out of me as we bounced off the car and back into traffic.
We rolled to a stop, and I looked over at Cynthia. She was unconscious, and blood covered her face. As I turned to check on Kruger, I saw two men in suits approaching with guns drawn.
I managed to get my seatbelt off as I pushed the deflated airbag away from my face. Pain shot through my right arm as I tried to draw my Glock from the holster in my waistband. My vision was blurred, and I felt like I was in a haze as I tried to open the door while searching for the two men. I had lost them as I had struggled with the seatbelt.
Gunshots rang out as I finally got the door open. A round went through my right leg and another through my shoulder, causing me to drop my gun as I fell backward out of the truck and onto the street.
My adrenaline surged as I tried to fight through the pain and get back up. I frantically searched for my gun only to realize it had fallen under the truck.
As I bent over to get it, I heard two more gunshots and then turned to see one of the men in suits. He kicked me squarely in the chest, knocking me back to the hot asphalt.
My head hit the side of the bent driver side wheel as I landed. The world started to dim as I drifted out of consciousness.
“He’s down. You want me to finish him?” I heard a voice say before everything went black.