In Texas, speed limits are suggestions
The sedan swerved onto the highway as wide white circles broke out on the back window. Philip slammed on the gas and the SUV’s engine roared, straining against the weight. A car ahead of him squealed to a stop and he almost lost a side mirror passing the son of a bitch.
“Fuck!” Luke bounced around in the net. Philip glanced up and saw two cars gaining on them in the rearview, gunmen leaning out the windows.
“Behind us!” he yelled, wishing his words were bullets.
Luke dropped down, flipped his Rattler to safe and slung it behind him. He hopped off the center seat into the back where the last row of seats had been taken out. He opened a compartment built into the floorboard and undid the straps with a smile. Michael aint gonna like this.
He checked the belt, racked the charging handle, and shouldered it, thinking of all the noise it would make and regretting that his earbuds would dampen the sound. He pressed a button in the hatch and the triple-thick window eased open. When the gap of sunlight was a few inches wide, he stopped it and shouldered the weapon.
As he poked the barrel through the window, one of the drivers saw what was up and veered off to the right. The other one, a big SUV, barreled forward. They were going over a hundred miles per hour and Philip was swerving wildly. It took a moment for Luke to get a shot, but when he did, it was a good one.
The M240B roared and shell casings and links danced in the cab. The pursuing SUV came alive all at once. Rounds sparked off like fireworks. The windshield went white then gave out, and the driver exploded in bursts of gore. It veered off the road and slammed through a guard rail into a grass ditch, bouncing like a toy. Luke kept on the trigger and put more rounds through the cabin until it was out of view and nothing around could tell him it wasn't just a nice day for a drive.
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“Holy shit!” whooped Philip from the front, laughing like a maniac. Luke snapped the gun to the right, remembering the other car. It had taken a rising offramp and was already half-hidden behind the barrier, but Luke shot at it anyway, the gun beating into his shoulder like a jackhammer. Rounds cracked on cement as he walked the fire towards the sedan's windows. Before he could get a bead, the ramp raised it out of his line of sight for good. He held the trigger in bitter defiance.
“Watch your god damned fire!” EP yelled in his ears. Shit. In all the excitement, he had forgotten about Michael’s rules of engagement. He hoped none of the rounds dropped out of the air on anyone.
Philip watched the sedan swerve ahead of him into the fast lane, but all he could do was keep on the gas. Powerless. It felt strange being on this side of the operation again. A flat expanse of big box stores and fast-food signs rolled by and brought on an unexpected nostalgia. The guy in the sedan had stopped shooting, and if he ignored the smell of gunfire and the white marks on the glass, it felt like the energetic start of a weekend.
A police siren ruined it. He looked in the rearview and saw Luke fire off another burst. The flashing lights jerked to the side then faded into the distance.
“Fuck! You watching this!?” Philip yelled. “I need a god damned intercept!”
“I’m working on it. Theresa is on her way,” EP said.
“What? No, I’m sure it’ll be over in no time, right Malachi?” said Lindsey. “No need for me to get in the way.”
“The other car got away,” Luke said from the back. “Went up the ramp, probably gonna try to take the express lane and come around on us.” He scampered back to the net.
“Looks like the targets heading towards the office,” said EP. “That’s probably where the door is.”
“Shit.” Said Philip squeezing the wheel, Luke loading his rattler, and Lindsey pushing the gas.