Chapter 3 - The Ghost
Panic seized my chest as the digital numbers flashed down to seven.
Gavin violently kicked the reinforced bulletproof windshield, but it did not even crack.
"Get into the backseat and cover your head!" he ordered me.
I scrambled over the center console, curling my body into a tight ball.
Gavin pulled a specialized explosive breaching charge from his tactical vest.
He slapped the charge against the driver's side window and slammed his fist onto the detonator.
A localized blast shattered the reinforced glass outward.
The timer on the dashboard hit two seconds.
Gavin grabbed me by the collar of my sweater and dragged me through the broken window.
We hit the wet pavement just as the sedan exploded in a massive fireball.
The shockwave threw us both across the alley into a pile of garbage bags.
My ears rang loudly as a thick cloud of black smoke filled the air.
I frantically checked my stomach, sobbing with relief when I felt no sharp pains.
I crawled over to Gavin, who was bleeding heavily from a large piece of shrapnel in his leg.
He coughed up blood and handed me a shattered burner phone.
"Run to the address in the GPS," Gavin gasped, pushing me away.
"I am not leaving you here to die," I argued, grabbing his arm.
"You have to save the heir to the Voss empire," he growled fiercely.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the smoke from the main street.
I grabbed the phone and ran blindly into the dense woods behind the town.
I ran until my lungs burned and my legs felt like lead.
I finally reached the address on the phone, which belonged to my landlady, June Whitaker.
I collapsed onto the porch of her antique shop, gasping for air.
May you like
The front door opened slowly.
June Whitaker was standing there, aiming a double-barreled shotgun directly at my face.
