When Ashley landed on the roof of Lucian’s car, she had no choice but to release her pistol so she could grab onto something. Fortunately, Lucian had lowered the windows, allowing her to grip the top edge of Gustav’s window and keep herself from being thrown off.
She lay flat on her stomach, forced into the position by the violent movement of the car.
At the same time, the vehicle slammed against the side of Rum’s truck, metal scraping against metal.
Sparks flew toward Ashley, forcing her to turn her face away. The impact sent her legs sliding toward the truck’s body. She quickly planted her foot against its side, pushing herself away before her legs could get caught between the two vehicles.
The moment the car separated from the truck, Lucian sent it spinning across the road. Ashley’s lower body swung violently with the movement.
Suddenly, a hand shot out from inside the car and grabbed her arm.
"Shit," she hissed, stretching her free hand toward the opposite window.
Her fingertips barely reached it. Holding on to only one side left most of her body hanging dangerously close to the edge. Her fingers turned white as she tightened her grip, using every ounce of strength to support her weight.
Once Lucian regained control of the vehicle, Ashley raised her head.
Her eyes glinted as he slammed down on the accelerator.
"Let me go!" she shouted at Gustav.
He immediately released her.
Ashley pulled out another pistol and opened fire while still lying flat on her stomach, one hand gripping the top of the window.
BANG!
BANG!
Gustav joined her. Now that no other vehicles were beside them, he climbed halfway out of the window. His legs remained inside the car while his upper body hung outside.
With a rifle in his hands, he opened fire on Scott’s vehicle.
Scott continued swerving to avoid the bullets, but with both Ashley and Gustav shooting at him, he couldn’t dodge them all.
Bullets riddled the rear windshield and trunk.
Soon, one tore through a tire.
Marshal squealed from the backseat as one side of the car dipped. He gasped in horror and stared at Scott.
"Scott!" he roared.
But Scott didn’t answer.
He kept his eyes on the road, fully aware that one of their tires was rapidly losing air.
A moment later, another bullet struck the opposite rear tire, causing that side to sag as well.
"Fuck," Scott hissed.
Still, he didn’t slow down.
Instead, he kept his eyes forward and pushed the car even harder. Even though the situation had taken a disastrous turn, he wasn’t ready to give up yet.
Soon, the port they were heading toward came into view.
Scott swallowed hard, refusing to blink as he crashed through the old, rusted gates.
"Come on..." he breathed.
In the backseat, Marshal clutched his hair in distress, his mind crumbling under the weight of everything happening around him.
He had trusted Scott to keep him alive.
But clearly, Scott was failing.
What Marshal failed to consider was that without Scott, he would have been captured long ago.
The only reason they were still alive was because the man behind the wheel had the experience and skill to keep them moving.
As they sped deeper into the port, weaving through the narrow gaps between shipping containers, Scott finally broke his silence.
"Sir," he called, unsure whether Marshal was even listening. "What kind of deal did you make with Memphis?"
Marshal’s breath hitched. He looked up at Scott with trembling eyes.
Normally, he would have responded with, "That’s none of your business," or, "Stop asking questions and do what I told you."
But he didn’t.
All he could do was stare at Scott’s back while the thick scent of smoke and burned rubber filled the car.
Scott kept his eyes ahead. For the moment, he couldn’t hear any vehicles behind them.
"I just noticed something..." he continued. "Aside from the men you hired and a few of ours, your security team never showed up."
Marshal had a dedicated team responsible for his protection. Every member had been called in tonight. They had even been inside the mansion, popping champagne after the decoy exploded.
Yet throughout the entire chase, Scott hadn’t seen a single one of them.
He had noticed their absence from the beginning but hadn’t paid much attention to it. He had assumed they would eventually arrive as reinforcements.
But they never came.
If they had, Scott and Marshal wouldn’t have been at such a grave disadvantage, even with all the additional men they had hired for tonight.
Marshal stiffened as realization dawned on him. His eyes widened, and he held his breath.
"That damned Memphis..." His face twitched. "That bastard—is he behind all of this?"
It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.
If Memphis was responsible, then he had probably bought the loyalty of Marshal’s elite soldiers and turned them against him.
Before Marshal could think any further about how Memphis had set his plans in motion, a horn blared behind them.
His breath caught, choking back the string of profanities threatening to escape his mouth.
As Scott turned into another lane, a car emerged from between the containers behind them.
"Fuck," Scott breathed, keeping his attention on the path ahead.
But alas...
The moment they entered the wide loading bay, the car that had been pursuing them from the beginning surged forward and pulled alongside them.
For a moment, Scott and Marshal’s world came to a halt.
They turned toward the vehicle as it overtook them.
Scott instinctively eased his foot off the accelerator.
He knew the game was over.
*****
Lucian kept his eyes on the road as he sped past the battered vehicle they had been pursuing for what felt like almost an hour.
But he didn’t stop after overtaking them.
He accelerated, pulled farther ahead, and then sent his car into a sharp drift. The vehicle spun sideways across Scott’s path, forcing him to slam on the brakes.
The moment both vehicles came to a stop, Ashley pushed herself up from Lucian’s roof.
She planted her feet against the metal, spun toward the car in front of them, and leaped.
Her hand caught the edge of its roof. Using the momentum, she swung her legs forward and kicked through the rear passenger window.
The glass shattered beneath her boots.
Ashley dove through the opening and landed directly on the backseat—and on top of Marshal.
At the same time, Gustav leaped out of the passenger seat and aimed his rifle at Scott.
Scott closed his eyes and leaned back, slowly raising his hands in surrender.
Marshal’s breathing stopped as the barrel of Ashley’s rifle pressed against his forehead.
All he could see was his terrified reflection staring back at him from the visor of her helmet.
It wasn’t until she spoke that he finally recognized the person who had been hunting him.
"It’s been a while."
Marshal’s brows furrowed as his eyes searched the dark visor.
"You..." he trailed off in confusion.
Then realization struck, and his mouth fell open.
"D-Daughter..." He shook his head frantically. "You don’t want to do this, sweetheart."
BANG!
Marshal choked as Ashley fired at the door beside his head. The deafening blast exploded right next to his ear, leaving it ringing.
"Oh, I do," she said with a quiet laugh. "You should know that better than anyone, right?"
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