Deadly Defiance: International Thriller Book 2 by J. T. Kelly

Author:J. T. Kelly [Kelly, J. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

B

efore Fresco and Sterrio could do anything, one of the men demanded, “Keep your hands where we can see ‘em. Get out of the car.”

The two Interpol officers glanced at each other, slowly opening the vehicle doors to climb out. “What the hell’s this all about?” Fresco asked indignantly.

“You were asking about our boss, Mr. Minella, right?” one of the gunmen asked, waving his weapon toward their black SUV.

“That’s right, we’ve heard of him, that’s all,” Fresco replied.

“Well, you’re gonna get your wish,” the other gunman answered. Fresco and Sterrio were frisked for weapons and told to get into the SUV. Sterrio was ordered into the front seat, Fresco into the back. One gunman drove while the other held a weapon in each hand, covering Fresco and Sterrio.

They traveled in silence as the two Interpol partners remained composed without providing any resistance. Heading outside Naples, the driver took the Autostrada and finally exited near the base of Mount Vesuvius, first onto Via Cook, then Via San Vito. He continued cruising along a small private road with a canopy of mature deciduous trees looming overhead.

Just as it appeared they were nearing a turnoff, Sterrio suddenly leaned toward the driver and jabbed her elbow into his temple. She grabbed the steering wheel and turned it sharply left. Before the driver could resist, the vehicle careened off the road. At the same time as his partner’s attack, Fresco punched the backseat guard in the nose. Bones crunched and blood spewed out.

Immediately, the guard’s weapons fired through the car’s roof. Fresco threw another devastating blow to the guard’s face, knocking him out. Sterrio rammed the heel of her hand into the driver’s jaw as the car began to tip over. She slammed him again until he was unconscious. Bracing themselves firmly with the seat belts, Fresco and Sterrio held on tightly as the SUV rolled, then flipped back on its wheels, colliding violently into the base of a large tree.

Seconds later, Fresco whispered, “You okay?” Shaking his head to regain his focus, he discovered he had minor cuts and bruises on his head and arms from the impact of the crash.

“I’ll live. You?” Sterrio asked in return. “Get out! Think I smell gas.” She began kicking her door, but it had been badly dented and wouldn’t open.

Swinging her legs around, she started kicking the driver-side door which soon came loose. Sterrio pushed the unresponsive driver through the door, following him out. Then she helped Fresco force his door ajar so he could exit.

“I’ve got the guy’s weapons. See if they have any more up front. Also pop the rear gate. I’ll see what’s there,” Fresco barked as he rubbed the welts on the side of his head. Checking the back, Fresco found two machine guns with extra clips, bottles of water, and a large canvas bag. He grabbed what he needed and took the guards’ phones, packing everything in the bag. After tying the men’s hands and feet, the two Interpol officers moved away from the wreckage, then hugged each other.

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