A silent scream accompanied the rush of adrenaline that plunged Virginia into action. Shifting her hip to hit hard into Enzo's groin, she felt his body fold and his grip slacken. Wasting no time, she grabbed his shooting arm, forcing it off target. Wrenching her knee up, she slammed it into the middle of his forearm, hoping to break the damn thing in half.

The pistol fired once before he dropped it.

With a curse he let her go to reach for the weapon tethered at his side. She acted solely on instinct, intertwining fingers and locking down both elbows. Pivoting fast on her heels, she swung, stepping into it, hitting hard into the side of his head with her bunched up fists.

He staggered back, buying her some time.

Diving to the ground, she secured her gun and rolled onto her back, bringing its aim up between her knees. It couldn't have taken more than a second. Maybe two.

But it was too late.

Enzo's mouth opened and closed, but only a gurgling sound came out. A thin handle stuck out of his chest like a tiny flagpole, and his eyes peeled wide when he looked down at it. Taking two more stumbling steps backward, he tripped and fell to the ground.

In an instant, Mark was above her, working the other knife back into its sheath. Then he offered her his hand and helped her up. For a moment he kept their palms together. His stare was intense, demanding, angry even. "Did he hurt you?" His eyes shifted to her shirt.

She looked down. The tearing she had heard earlier had turned her crew neck into a plunging V-neck. Great. She tugged on the torn edges to try to cover up cleavage, but it was a lost cause. Lifting her gaze back to his, she shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

He seemed to relax a little. Letting go, he turned his attention to the man on the ground, causing her to do the same. Enzo blinked up at them, blood spurting from his mouth as he tried to form words.

Mark got down on his knees and went for the handle sticking out of Enzo's chest. "Turn away."

". . . Why?"

"Just do it," he snapped. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before looking up at her. "Please," he said more gently, "I don't want you to see this."

Still stunned by all that had happened, she did as he asked, her stomach heaving at the suction sounds that followed. She took two deep breaths and swallowed, willing her lunch to stay down.

"They must have heard that shot. You need to go. I'll distract them."

She turned back just in time to see him sliding the second knife away. She holstered her gun. "Exactly how are you going to do that?"

"Give me your hat."

She pulled off the ball cap and handed it to him.

"Let's get him into the car." Placing her hat on Enzo's head, he nodded his readiness. "Grab his shoulders."

She moved into position. Her lunch's uprising threatened again as she looked down at the lifeless face at her feet.

"Ginny!"

Breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose, she bent down and unfastened the sling, placing the submachine gun on the ground beside her. On his count of three, they lifted and carried the body to the car. With a little awkward maneuvering, they managed to get the dead weight into the passenger seat. In that slouched position with the cap pulled low to hide male features, the white lettering of POLICE was the first detail seen through the tinted windows.

"Now get the hell out of here," he said.

"I can't. I have to find Walt."

Mark frowned. "He's at the station."

What. How does he—?

"I spoke to Captain Beal on the way here. Walt was with him." His expression darkened. "Is that how they lured you—" The sound of approaching vehicles hummed in the distance. "Go!" he yelled before jumping into his car. In a flash, he tore out the front door, fishtailing onto the road that led to the main gate.

One of the bay doors on the other side of the street was a quarter of the way through its slow rise to open. She shifted out of sight as five men ducked underneath it. Spotting the Ferrari, they spent a few seconds yelling obscenities before one of them took the lead, ordering the other four back into the darkened space they had emerged from. The one in charge stayed by the road and barked something into a cell phone or radio while flagging whatever was approaching fast from further down the lot. Skidding tires were still working on bringing two black Caddies to a full stop when a door was flung open on one, and he hurled himself inside. They sped off without even a glance in her direction.

"That did work," she whispered.

Making a run for the back exit, she remembered the machine gun. Retracing her steps, she bent to retrieve the weapon from the ground and slowly straightened, eyeballing the three pallet-loads stacked by the wall.

Damn it, if only she had more time.

Shoving her arm through the sling, she threw Enzo's gift over her shoulder. It bounced against her back as she ran for the fence line. The gun went over first. Climbing the links with record speed, she was already halfway up by the time the thing landed on the other side.

The Ferrari flew along the road, heading to the on-ramp—he was going onto the highway, the two cars right up his ass.

Her feet hit the ground just as sirens chirped behind her. Turning her head, she spotted the three police cruisers pulling up to the main gate and blocking two other vehicles from leaving the lot.

She would have to thank them later.

With no time to waste, everything was thrown into the backseat of the Mustang before she jumped in and cranked the key. Gunning the engine, she headed straight for the on-ramp.

It took only minutes to spot them. She could see Mark ahead, weaving in and out of lanes, the rush hour traffic impeding his ability to put distance between himself and his pursuers. Virginia turned on her lights and siren to clear what was in front of her. As cars pulled out of her way, she gained ground on the trio, ending up fourth in line in their dangerous, high-speed version of follow the leader.

She moved in closer, tailgating the car in front of her. When the opportunity presented itself, she shifted to the other lane and punched into its rear quarter panel with her front right bumper. The Cadillac's back end shifted right . . . then left . . . then right, the over-correcting by the driver forcing it to finally lose control. It rammed into the guardrail, the front end wrapped around one of the steel supports.

"One down," she muttered.

The other started weaving from side to side, making it impossible for her to pull up. She kept her distance, waiting for a chance.

Without warning, the guy in the backseat leaned out of his window with pistol in hand. He fired once, and she ducked to the dashboard, hearing the loud crack echo through the interior. Expecting extensive damage to the windshield, she was shocked to see only a small spider web design where the bullet had hit.

Bulletproof glass. "Holy shit, Jack," she breathed.

The shooter popped his head out again, looking just as surprised as she was. Not wanting to test the strength of the window any further, she accelerated hard and rammed the sedan's back end. It jerked forward but stayed straight. A little self-congratulatory smile hit her face when she saw the fluttering red tape that had been covering a broken taillight.

Well, well, well, she mused. Remember me?

The gun reappeared but pointed forward this time. As a shot rang out, the Ferrari seemed to twitch before drifting to the side of the road. The Caddy tore past it . . . followed closely by Virginia. She whipped her head around just in time to see Mark come to a full stop on the shoulder of the highway, his back tire flat to the road.

All of a sudden, the Caddy shifted left and braked hard, ending up beside her. In her peripheral vision, she saw the guy in the back raise his arm. Turning the Mustang's wheel hard to the left, she rammed into the side of their car, knocking the shooter off balance. Grimacing at the sound of crunching metal, it took all of her strength to hold position, boxing them in as she braked, forcing their car toward the median. She could see the two passengers yelling instructions to the driver with panicked urgency.

That wasn't going to help them now, though.

Locked in their deadly duel, both cars started to skid, their back tires sliding sideways as friction prevailed. At the last possible second, she took her foot off the brake and turned into the skid, regaining traction. Flicking the steering wheel left before yanking it to the right, she went into a bootleg turn, her back end coming around and bouncing off the front of their car with enough force to end their chase—perhaps permanently. After doing a one-eighty, she came to a complete stop, facing the direction from which they had come.

The same couldn't be said for the Caddy.

Its front tires caught the grassy median and dug in. At that speed it couldn't handle the forward momentum, and it flipped several times, a violent pirouette of twisted metal. She held her breath and white-knuckled the steering wheel as it spun closer, narrowly missing her trunk.

It came to rest upside-down on the pavement behind her. She turned her lights and siren off and sat for a moment, trying to calm the thundering beat of her heart. Convinced there was no movement coming from what remained of the Cadillac, she picked up her radio and called it in, requesting back up and ambulances.

With help now on the way, she looked to the laid-up Ferrari about a half-mile down the road, wondering what she should do about him. Innocent motorists had been smart enough to stop as the police chase unfolded before their eyes. The highway was strangely vacant and—

The sun glinted off something further in the distance. She frowned, realizing what it was. How is that even running? Somehow, the occupants of the first car had managed to peel the thing off the guardrail.

And it was coming up on Mark. Fast.

With a curse she dropped the clutch with her foot pressing hard on the accelerator. It was now a race. Who would get to the sitting duck at the side of the road first?

The Mustang didn't disappoint. Pulling up next to him, she opened her window and yelled, "Get in!"

Front tires wobbled like an old set of training wheels as the mangled remains of the once luxury sedan bore down on them.

She grabbed for the submachine gun and hiked herself up to sit on the window ledge of her door, elbows braced on the roof. Wrapping the sling around her wrist a few times, she pulled the trigger. The rapid-fire popping was deafening as she held the stock tight against her shoulder to help control the recoil and muzzle drift. She squinted and gritted her teeth but still flinched as the spent shells flew out of the ejection port, pinging off the Mustang's roof and bouncing to the ground. Her target took evasive action, braking and retreating to avoid the spray of bullets. She stayed on it, moving from left to right, trying to do as much damage to the car as she could. No way was it recovering this time.

Mark jumped in just as the gun made a loud, sickening click!

She scrambled back into her seat, throwing the weapon to the floor behind him. Shoving the Mustang into reverse, she reached her right hand over to his headrest and twisted to look out the rear. The tires squealed and threw off smoke as the car raced backward, accelerating. "Hang on," she yelled as she braked and wrenched the wheel left, forcing a skid, shoving the car into gear as the nose came about.

She sped away from one bullet-holed adversary, past the crumpled remnants of the other, ultimately catching up to the traffic ahead. Seeing nobody bringing up the rear, she took a deep breath and slowed the car down to blend in with the commuters, allowing herself to relax. A tad.

There was still the little matter of who was sitting next to her.

Feeling the weight of his stare, she glanced over. "What?"

"I'm just glad you're on my side," he said with a grin.

Am I? she wondered.

As he got on his phone, she became lost in thought, bemused by the loyalties that warred within. 

END OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I had you worried, didn't I? Enzo should have known better. You don't threaten Virginia in front of Mark and expect to live through it ;)

Now what? Is it true? Is she on his side? You're about to find out.

Please vote, comment and share! As always, thank you all for reading!!!!!!!!