Chapter 5 - The Driver's Seat
Darian cursed violently, violently kicking the heavy armored side of the expensive town car.
"They took out Marcus," he said grimly, opening the door and pulling the dead driver out of the vehicle.
Police sirens wailed loudly in the distance, growing steadily louder by the absolute second.
More aggressive shouts and heavy footsteps echoed from the loading dock directly behind them.
"Get in the passenger side right now," Nadia ordered, grabbing the bloody car keys from the dead man's hand.
Darian looked at her in complete, utterly stunned disbelief.
"You are a maid, not a trained getaway driver."
"And you are a high-value target who is currently bleeding to death on the pavement," Nadia shot back aggressively, pointing at his abdomen.
Darian looked down in shock, finally noticing the dark crimson stain spreading rapidly across his pristine white tuxedo shirt.
He groaned painfully, the adrenaline finally wearing off, and slumped heavily into the leather passenger seat.
Nadia slid smoothly behind the steering wheel and fired up the massive, roaring engine.
She threw the heavy car into reverse, slamming the gas pedal completely to the floorboard.
The armored vehicle screeched violently backward, smashing aggressively into the assassins who had just run out of the kitchen.
She shifted hard into drive and tore out of the narrow alleyway, the thick tires smoking wildly on the asphalt.
"Take the interstate highway," Darian gasped, pressing his bloody hand firmly against his bleeding side.
"The corrupt police will lock down the local city grid in less than three minutes."
Nadia gripped the steering wheel tightly, weaving flawlessly through the congested night traffic.
She had not driven a car this powerful in years, but her old survival muscle memory took over completely.
She glanced nervously over at Darian, whose sharp face was growing dangerously, sickly pale.
"I need to take you to a hospital right now," Nadia said, her voice tight with rising panic.
"No hospitals," Darian wheezed, his eyes rolling back slightly in his head.
"Arthur Pendleton owns the police chief and half the doctors in this city."
He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a bloody, encrypted keycard.
"There is a secure, off-the-books safe house in the industrial district on Pier 4."
"Take me there immediately."
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Darian's head lolled lifelessly to the side, and he passed out completely in the seat.
Nadia was now driving a stolen car, wearing a ruined silk gown, with a dying mafia boss bleeding out beside her.
