The Devil You Know by James P. Sumner

Author:James P. Sumner [Sumner, James P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781914191145
Publisher: Both Barrels Publishing Ltd.

17

08:43 CEST

Ruby moves first. She vaults over the door and shuffles into the passenger seat. She’s already reaching back into the weapons bag as I land in the driver’s seat and start the engine. The three assassins in front of us stop, immediately making them stand out even more in the sea of people still going about their day, blissfully unaware of how bad shit’s about to get.

Behind me, I hear people start screaming. I hear the commotion of a crowd, scared and confused, running in any direction they can.

“Go!” yells Ruby.

Smoke billows behind me as tires screech, partially masking us from the group back there. I slam my foot to the floor and speed away from the café. The street is narrow, but thankfully, the traffic is light. Almost immediately, I’m forced to swerve into the opposite lane to navigate around a vehicle driving too slowly. I glance at the group that were in front of us as I drive past, making eye contact with each one for a fleeting second. Two men and a woman. The expressions on their faces are hard as stone and twice as cold. I see one of the guys talking into a cell phone.

That’s probably not a good sign.

I move back out to the right lane and speed up again. I’m approaching an intersection and a red light. A couple of vehicles are stopped there, which may cause a problem.

I grip the wheel and shuffle in my seat, trying to get comfortable. I think this car’s an MX-5. I don’t know—Ruby picked it. Whatever it is, it’s not built for someone my size. I’m just glad there’s no roof, so I can sit straight.

Ruby’s sitting half-turned in the seat, facing me. She’s holding one of my Raptors on her lap, looking behind us.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not a clue. Right now, I’m settling for anywhere those bastards aren’t.”

We pass a side street on my left. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a large black vehicle come speeding out of it. It slides loudly across the road, narrowly missing the back end of my car.

I glance in my rear view. It’s a 44. Mercedes. I see a driver and a passenger glaring out at me.

“Ruby, is that—”

Automatic gunfire fills the air. More shouting and screaming from bystanders is carried past us on the wind as the needle tips fifty.

“Never mind.”

Ruby balls up on the seat beside me, getting as much cover as she can behind it. I sink down into mine as much as the legroom allows.

This is the problem with a convertible: there’s little to no protection from bullets. They should warn you of that when you rent them.

“You gonna fire back at any point?” I shout over.

I feel her glare at me. “I’ll fire at something in a minute! I’m trying not to get my head blown off.”

“Fine. Just try to—” The dull, stuttering thunk! of bullets punching through the body of the car distracts me.

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