The Hard Way Duncan Brockwell (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📖

With Miller still behind her, Hayes watched in her mirror, as her partner kept the vans back by steering left or right, depending on which way they went. Cars coming the other way blasted their horns at them. All Hayes could do was hold her nerve.

The van managed to nip past Miller. Hayes saw the frontage of the van in her mirror. It was so close to her rear, too close. When she saw a window descend, she shouted to Charlotte, “Get down, now!”

Her passenger did as she was told, crouching as far as she could, when the rear windscreen shattered, the noise making Charlotte scream. Hayes knew Miller was doing everything she could to get rid of them.

69

Miller slammed on the horn, not that she knew why. These guys had already taken out the back window of the little Fiesta. “Shit! We need to get rid of them.” She was sick of listening to Marlowe shit himself. “Will you shut up! You’re not helping, damn it.”

“What do you expect? You’re driving like a moron, and I’m cuffed here. Let me drive; I’m an expert.” He held his hands out, like she had time to uncuff him. “Come on! Before you get us killed.”

“Put your hands down! Christ! I’ve known you for all of five minutes, and already I want to shoot you.” She put her foot down, feeling the adrenaline flow, as she sped alongside the dark van, needing to get in front. “Take this!” Her nose slightly ahead of the van’s, she yanked left, her Peugeot colliding with the van.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing? Are you mental? Are you trying to kill me, or what?” Marlowe moved away from the door, almost on her lap.

“We’ve got to give them a fighting chance; they’re sitting ducks up front.” With her car jamming the van’s way, Miller managed to get in front of it, so she was directly behind Hayes’ Fiesta. “Come on, Luke, where are you?”

“Who the fuck’s Luke?” Marlowe turned in his seat to look out the rear window. “Incoming!” He turned and ducked.

Miller screamed when a bullet tore through the rear window. While driving, all she could hear were gunshots, small pops. “Shit! We need to get off this road.”

The second dark van, which she thought was behind the one behind her, shot past, Luke’s BMW trailing it. Miller saw Sarge firing at the van, which was clearly armoured. “Hayes!” she shouted, when a Heckler and Koch MP5 appeared out of the passenger window of the van.

If having one van speed past her wasn’t bad enough, the second followed suit.

Miller’s side window shattered, cutting her face and neck.

She was too busy to bleed.

As though Hayes had heard her, the Fiesta turned left into a small narrow road. While the blue car managed to catch the slip road, the two vans and Luke’s BMW didn’t; they continued on along the A road. Miller had to slam on the brakes to catch the slip road. “Whoop!” She laughed, watching the vans slam on their brakes too late; they would have to back up and turn. “What’s the matter, Marlowe? We’ve given ourselves a couple of minutes.”

Taking her mobile out of her jacket pocket, she handed it to Marlowe. “Get Hayes on here, would you? Do something useful for once.” It took a few seconds of following her partner along the thin road with potholes everywhere before she heard Hayes’ voice. “Do you even know where this road leads?”

“I wish I could say I did, Miller, but no.”

Miller grunted when she saw a sign for a country mansion and driveway ahead. “Oh shit! It’s a dead end!” Up ahead the huge building, the likes of which she’d only seen in magazines and movies loomed large. In the rear view, the vans approached, which meant Luke’s BMW wouldn’t be far behind. Their immediate problem was figuring out what to do.

“We’ve got no choice but to stop here, Miller,” Hayes said. “We can’t turn round and go back through them.”

Swallowing hard, Miller agreed. “Get as close to the front door as you can. They’re going to take no chances; they’ll come out firing.”

More pops from behind told her they were firing at them again. As she drove closer to the mansion, she could see a couple of people outside the front. “I think it might be a hotel. Look at those people.”

“I think you’re right, but there’s nothing we can do.”

The people out front of the building must have heard the gunshots. Getting closer, they were running away. “That’s something, at least. They’ve seen the vans behind us.” Then she saw them running into the house.

The Fiesta was first to pull up outside the front door, followed by Miller’s Peugeot. She got out in a hurry, not bothering to wait for Marlowe. At the front door, Hayes banged on it, yelling that she was a police officer.

Behind her, Miller saw the vans getting closer. Bullets hit her Peugeot, as muzzle flashes made her duck. “We need to get inside, now.”

Hayes ducked while bashing the door. “Don’t you think I know that?”

Marlowe stood, went to launch his foot at the thick wooden door, when it opened a crack, and a woman in a suit appeared through the crack. “Thank God! Let us in, madam, please.”

As Marlowe forced his way in, Miller watched the vans. Luke’s BMW made a last-minute dash to beat the vans to the house. “Come on, Luke!” The BMW screeched to a halt behind her Peugeot, the doors flew open, as Luke, Sarge and Vodicka fired at the vans, the bullets barely scratching it.

“Inside, all of you, now!” she ordered, hiding behind the door, holding it for them. “Come on!” She waited until all three were inside, then slammed the door shut, locking it.

Catching her breath, Miller turned to find Hayes trying to urge the hotel staff to leave out the back. “Please listen to her. These are professional mercenaries, hired to kill us.