Chapter 6 - THE DEADLY AMBUSH
We never made it to the FBI building.
As our armored SUV stopped at a red light under the L-train tracks, a massive garbage truck suddenly swerved across the intersection, slamming violently into the side of our vehicle.
The world spun. Glass shattered inward. The airbags deployed with a deafening crack.
I groaned, tasting copper in my mouth. My security driver was unconscious against the steering wheel. Mr. Harrison was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, clutching his briefcase.
“Leo, get out!” Harrison shouted.
Through the shattered window, I saw three men stepping out of a black sedan behind the garbage truck. They were holding suppressed pistols.
I grabbed Eleanor’s satchel, kicked my jammed door open, and dragged Harrison out into the chaotic street. Panic erupted among the civilian drivers. Horns blared. People screamed.
We ducked behind a parked delivery van just as bullets shattered the pavement where we had been standing seconds before.
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“He’s not trying to sue us anymore,” I panted, clutching the satchel to my chest. “He’s trying to slaughter us.”
We ran blindly through the crowded subway station, losing the gunmen in a sea of morning commuters. We were battered and bleeding, but we had the evidence. And Victor had just proved exactly how desperate he was.
