![]() | ![]() |
Gator stifled an oath as the Brit chose exactly the wrong moment to bend over. He re-targeted, but Rowe pulled his legs into the seat, yanking the door shut and the second shot pinged into the door. The mission into town hadn't required armor-piercing rounds or long guns, or so Gator had thought.
From under the balcony, the woman shouted, "Nigel, go!"
The Jeep, which had coasted over in neutral, roared to life and lurched forward. Gator covered this quadrant, Smitty on the far side. A stream of bullets from that direction pecked along the ground and side of the Jeep. The doors flapped open. Where was the woman?
Didn't matter, the metal gate remained closed. Rowe would have to—Shit!
From beneath the Jeep, Jessica rolled and leapt up, yanking the bar. She threw herself at the gate and it swung wide, the Jeep matching her speed, arcing around as a few bullets from outside shattered glass and bit metal. Flick, Tyrone and Monty covering the exits. The Jeep intercepted shots meant for the woman.
The gate clanged all the way open, the Jeep bumping over curb and gravel, then peeling away again with a spurt of stones.
Five trained operatives against one with only a deadweight wannabe actor on her side. Shouldn't be this hard. Gator was willing to burn the chance of a pirate wreck, but losing that and the freelance payoff on Rowe's head was a bit much, especially if some record of criminal activity by his crew got shared—the Boss would cut them off and hang them out to dry. He'd seen that before: a failed prep crew that not only got ousted, but found themselves fingered for a dozen other crimes where the Boss wanted a scapegoat. The downfall of that team created the opening for Gator.
Rising from his crouch, he raced along the hotel roof toward the far end. Lights came on down below in a few rooms—tourists who didn't know any better than to reveal their location during a firefight. Someplace, a siren began. Probably take a long time coming if they'd heard any report of multiple assailants. One way and another, Gator and the boys had to get out of there.
On the road, two dark shapes raced for the Jeep, converging with the hidden location of the third man. The Jeep bucked free of the landscaping and veered onto the road, accelerating sharply, doors slamming shut.
Given the boys' movements, Jessica had to be inside.
Flick, on point to the north, got off a few shots and the vehicle turned sharply. Driver down? No luck, it didn't stop.
One of the two on the ground put on a burst of speed and vaulted into the shorted cargo space of the four-door Jeep. Grabbing a roll bar, he fired into the back window. The vehicle lurched and Gator, for the first time in decades, thought of praying.