at this sudden streak of heroics to really answer him. But I also kept my eyes on the road ahead of us. Trying to find suspicious cars sitting by the side of the road. Trying to pinpoint where they might be hiding in those first buildings in town.
Trying to decide where and how they might come for us.
Because I’d been in business long enough to know that one thing was always true: if you could see your competition coming before they even started moving, then nine times out of ten, you ended up getting the upper hand.
If I could see them before they saw us, maybe I could get us both out of this before Jack had to play martyr as well as hero.
I ended up spotting them about five minutes before they could have even seen us, partially because they were so badly hidden that it was almost laughable.
“There,” I said, my hand shooting out in front of me, one finger extended to point at the billboard by the side of the road. “They’re parked in the shade of that billboard.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack asked.
“Not kidding at all,” I said, as if he hadn’t been asking rhetorically. “They’re right there.”
I felt rather than saw the wry glance that he cast my way—and then felt the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh—and kept my eyes on the bad guys.
“The bad news is, I don’t think we can avoid them,” I said. “Unless you know a different way into town that happens to break off from this road within the next two minutes. And is magically invisible to anyone who happens to be hiding behind that billboard.”
A short silence followed, and then Jack cleared his throat. “Nothing like that, I’m afraid,” he said. “So we’re just going to have to try to shoot the gap.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I said. “Should I get the guns?”
He chuckled. “Nothing to do with actually shooting. Everything to do with driving really, really fast.”
He slammed down on the gas and we shot forward, the engine of the van roaring with effort at the speed as we both watched the car only semi-hidden in the shadows of the billboard.
Yes, it could have been a completely innocent car. But I didn’t think either of us thought it was. Not at roughly seven in the morning on a Saturday, in the desert outside of Reno.
So I didn’t think either of us was surprised when we roared past it at well over a hundred miles per hour and it skidded out of its ‘hiding’ spot and shot after us, tires squealing and guns already firing from its windows.
I ducked down instinctively, as if getting lower was actually going to protect me from bullets screaming toward me, and cast a quick glance at Jack. He was hunched over the steering wheel, his eyes intent on the road in front of us and his hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were growing white.
“Know a better way to get into town?” I gasped. “And also, should I get the guns?”
“There is no better way to get into town, but we’re only about five minutes out,” he grunted. “And the guns aren’t going to do you much good unless you feel like hanging out the window to shoot at them.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very good time,” I answered.
I wasn’t that person. I had never wanted to be that person, and I would probably get myself killed trying to act like that person. I was a CEO, for God’s sake. I did battle in the boardroom, not on the streets of Reno. Sure, I knew my way around a gun, but really only for self-defense. Our earlier shootout experience was mostly a fluke of luck on my part. I’d been to the shooting range a few times, and my aim was okay, but I wouldn’t be accurate enough in a moving vehicle.
Which left only one option: wait and see what Jack could pull off in terms of getting us out of there alive. But I had never been good at the waiting and seeing business.
“How good are you at driving?” I asked, feeling more than a little bit desperate.
He took the time to give me a slight smile and a glance out of the corner of his eye, and sputtered a quick laugh.
“Better if I was in a decent car,” he said. “But I also know Reno better than they do. Remember that