Chapter 43: The Fat Lady Always Sings Wagner

Jamie’s brain counted silently, automatically, even as her body hesitated. When she hit ‘two’, her fear released its freezing hold over her body and she moved, spraying rounds at the men on the catwalks, striking a few and forcing the rest to recoil further in fear. In the same motion, she lunged the distance to Michael and grabbed his arm, slinging him into the hallway and spraying bullets blindly with her right arm to cover their retreat. The guards were no where to be found now, but an acrid cloud had formed at the end of the hallway, a hallway that had a door opening into the break room that Jamie had remotely bombed.
Michael was still stunned, but Jamie wasn’t sure whether it was from the moments leading up to this or her tossing him about. She grabbed his arm and started dragging him towards the gas.
“Hold your breath, Michael! It’s Chlorine gas.” She closed her eyes tightly and led him through the door into the break room, trusting in her memory to guide her correctly through the tables and chairs. She stumbled over a body, a guard, but maintained her balance, feeling Michael trip and hit the floor behind her. Jamie dragged him to his feet and kept moving, knowing that she was going to run out of air soon. Michel had taken a breath of the gas and was choking as it seared his lungs, but the door was finally in her hands and she kicked it out of the frame, the booming crash echoing across the deserted loading dock.
He had tears in his eyes, she could see, and his coughing sounded painful, but they were both still alive. Michael had bluffed his way out of a bad situation again, this time with a dummy grenade. Somehow he managed to stay ahead of Amherst.
“We....” Michael coughed and spit, the taste of bleach horrid in his mouth. “We need to...move.”
“Can you walk?”
“Walk yes... Run, probably not.” 
“Okay. I think I know a way out.” Jamie swapped the magazine in her gun, briefly checking to make sure it was full. She had to take command for the time being and lead Michael to safety. “Follow me.” 
Jamie dropped onto the rails and put her shoulder to the boxcar-sized door, feeling it flex a ways before springing back. The size and leverage of the door was too great for her to overcome but she knew of something that would work. She handed off her rifle to Michael and ran to the back of the boxcar, climbing up the ladder to spin the handbrake wheel, then jumping back down to where it was resting against the dock’s bumper. 
“Jamie, what are you doing?”
“Light exercise. Keep me covered.”
A shot rang out from down the dock and Michael returned fire, pinning the guards in the doorway for the time being. He kept an eye on Jamie as she wedged herself between the dock and the boxcar, pushing hard against both in order to start it moving. 
“Hngh.... Come on, damn it!” 
The car started to inch forward on the rails, the lack of weight inside the now-empty car the only reason it was able to move it at all. Another burst of strength from her powerful legs helped it along further and she dropped to the ground, planting her toes into each rail tie as she continued to shove the car towards the door. Her face was beet red and dripping sweat from her exertion, but the payoff was the door ripping open as the several tons of railcar smashed into it, shattering the locks and bending the hinges.
Michael laid down a stream of covering fire and followed Jamie out of the gap, moving as quickly as they could into the busy freight yard. The lights indicated trains approaching from both ends of the yard, so Jamie led Michael across the spurs, mindful of his slower pace but rushing him as much as possible. 
The guards were outside the building now and shots sounded, bullets whizzing past them. Michael slowed and spun long enough to spray a burst back at the pursuers, his only thought being to give them a bit more time to escape while Jamie focused on improvising a plan. 
“Come on!”
A train was approaching from the left, nearside rail, it’s transit through the yard cleared already on the switches. Another train was approaching from the right on the far set of rails. Both were slowed considerably and horns sounded as Jamie stepped into the light from the locomotive, motioning Michael to hurry. 
Michael’s lungs ached from the exertion and the irritation from the gas but he managed to jump the track in time, the locomotive passing behind him only seven seconds later, the train obscuring them from the view of Amherst’s men. 
“Now what?”
Jamie looked around at the two trains that surrounded them, finally deciding to admit the truth. “I haven’t thought that out yet.”
“Well, think fast, because you’re quickly running out of train.”
Her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, the only moment of levity among the tense ones. 
“That one.” 
Jamie pulled him along roughly, dashing to the other train and jumping aboard, pulling Michael off of his feet and onto the step of the boxcar. Darkness quickly covered them as the train exited the yard and they could see Amherst’s men attempting to find them. Even if they had considered the train, it was too late to stop them.
“We’re safe.”
“No, Jamie. We’re just right back where we started. In fact, we’re now on the run.”
The light from a crossing played across his face and showed her his level of concern for their situation. She started running the situation through her mind and found exactly the thing he was thinking about- the fact that they had to go back to the office to get their gear, and then make their way to the car, all of which had to happen after they get off the train.
The train approached a bend in the track and slowed for it, allowing the pair to hop off and start their forced march back into central Milan. A hop of a fence and slide down an embankment brought them out onto a major intersection, complete with a waiting taxi. A glance at each other found a shared thought: the fact that all of their gear was back in the office and that if they had any hope of escape or turning things around, they had to go back. 
The odds of running into Amherst and his men were considerably higher now, though, and Jamie and Michael didn’t exactly blend in at the moment. That belief was reinforced by the driver’s eyes being locked on Jamie’s lithe form, her curves enticingly wrapped in her spandex suit, causing two near-misses with other cars in as many minutes. 
Michael glanced at Jamie, searching for an indication that she was bothered by the attention, but her eyes were closed and head down, resting and thinking in the down time they were now blessed with. Another swerve, more violent than the last, pushed Michael past his own tolerance, however.
“Hey, driver...  I’m paying you to drive. Keep your eyes on the road unless you want me to remove them for you.”
The eyes locked forward and didn’t return, and Michael settled back to rest for the remaining several minutes of the ride.
“Hmm,” Jamie smiled, her eyes still closed. “You’re on-edge.”
“Very perceptive. What part of being taunted, shot at, gassed, and nearly incinerated do you think it was that made me this way?”
“None of it. Things didn’t go to plan and that’s why you’re upset.” Her blue eyes opened and looked into his, showing her understanding of his frustration. The only problem was that she was wrong.
“In a way you’re right- things didn’t go to plan. The grenade fizzled.”
Jamie’s eyes widened at that, the realization that Michael had not had a plan and had fully intended to die in that warehouse. A chill swept through her, feeling for the first time what Michael’s determination was really capable of. He had always been the one with the plan, and even if things did not go to plan, he was able to turn defeat into a draw at least. There was something unsettling in his sudden decision to end it all.
“Well, now we have another chance at him.”
“We could abort.”
A glance showed what she thought about that and it mirrored his feelings. They could not let him get away again. A setback with a stroke of Fate going their way was no way to end their hunt, at least while the target was alive.
The cab arrived at the ordered spot and Michael paid, draping his jacket over Jamie to help remain invisible to the commoners as they walked. Her hand unconsciously found his, linking fingers in the way couples do and leaning a little against his body, drawing closer in the cool night. The closeness did not bother him in the least, for once. In fact, it felt comfortable and warming, even as his body told him that her hands felt cold.
“This is nice.” Jamie had spoken first, a sign that she was alert as ever.
“Yes. Yes it is.”
The walk ended by the door to their office, the street empty and lacking any obvious sign that things were amiss. The more subtle signs were there, of course, and both had noticed them on the approach, providing a non-reaction in order to maintain surprise.
“Are you ready, Jamie?”
“You know I am.”
“Lets do this.”
The two entered the building and ran up the stairs, reaching their office quickly and started digging through their gear, finding the things they needed as fast as possible. Jamie stuffed a pair of backpacks with loaded magazines, grenades, and tools while Michael set up a pair of claymore mines at the door of the office. Amherst’s men were only minutes away, he could feel, and it was important to give them a welcome.
He went back to the side room to find Jamie fixing Primacord around the large window. 
“The sun will be up soon.”
“Yeah.”
She looked to him for a cue on how to feel, noting that he was calm and collected in spite of his face showing his mind’s race to get ahead. She was sticking to what she knew for the time being.
“Window’s done.”
“Good. Load and lock, and then flip that table against the window.”
They both picked up their G36 rifles, loading and chambering the 5.56 NATO rounds before ducking behind the file cabinets for protection from both the door and the window.
Silence sunk in, their shallow breathing hushed in order to hear the sounds of the enemy. Michael heard Jamie’s breathing pause for a moment, her head cocking slightly in a strain to better hear. She slowly exhaled and slipped her earplug back in, then gripped her rifle tighter, flipping off the safety.
“They’re on the stairs, next floor down.”
“Are you sure it’s them?”
“Absolutely. I heard the gritty slide of a Kalashnikov safety clicking off, so it’s not the maid.”
Michael smiled softly- proud of her abilities. “They actually had their safety on? They underestimate us.”
“Not for long...”
The claymores exploded, ripping through the slowly opening door and the surrounding wall, shredding the armed thugs on the other side before they knew what was happening. Jamie then fired off the Primacord, the metal table directing the explosion outwards and launching the window and frame out into the street. The pair launched themselves over the windowsill and rappelled the four stories to the sidewalk below, ignoring the stunned looks of the few innocents foolish enough to still be there after two explosions.
“We need to get back to the car.”
If there was anything Michael had to say, it was promptly interrupted by a shot that rang out and whizzed between them, scant inches from killing either. The pair split and sought cover, Michael in a recessed doorway, Jamie behind the corner of a car, and their rifles swung up to meet the threat, pausing only to let the few remaining innocents clear the field of fire. More shots flew at them and Jamie locked her sight on the muzzle flash, firing a pair of shots in burst-fire and watching the target’s muzzle rise up and away as he fell over dead while clenching the trigger.
“We need to move! Their back up will be down on us in a moment!” Michael started looking for a way to move without getting filled full of holes.
“That’s their problem!” 
For all of his teachings and personal foibles, he could not understand where Jamie got the bravado she showed during a firefight. She was even smiling softly as she focused on her sight and snapped off shots at the enemy.
A stray thought reminded him that she was probably right in her comment. It really was their problem, as they were attacking, and to that end, he had an idea of how to make the break they needed.
“Get ready to move!” 
At Jamie’s nod, Michael pulled both a smoke and fragmentation grenades out of his pack and held them in one hand, pulling the pins on both. A strong left-handed lob launched them towards the enemy, the frag grenade soaring farther with its heavier and denser mass, and landing spaced several meters apart. Perhaps they thought it another diversion, just as Michael hoped, or they weren’t in their right mind, but two of the assailants started to move forward to avoid losing their quarry in the smoke.
The frag grenade exploded, killing the two men and injuring at least one more, as well as shattering the windows of the nearby cars and buildings with its deadly payload. Michael gave a single glance at the scene to check for obviously wounded civilians and then followed Jamie’s lead to the east, heading for where the car was parked. They ran hard, dashing through intersections without a thought to the early morning traffic; their clothes, packs, and rifles raising eyebrows among the citizens that were out and about. Fortunately, they had outpaced their pursuers enough that stray shots weren’t being fired. 
Jamie stopped at a large planter and settled into a crouched firing position, resting on the planter for stability. Michael made the curb and slipped into a doorway to cover, startling the bakery’s owner who had just started his day.
“Six, Michael. I have a shot.”
He could not see them among the cars and dim light, but he had no doubt she was right. They had to cut down the numbers a little. “Send it!”
“Here we go.” A car flashed across her field of vision as she sighted across the intersection at the enemy running towards them on the sidewalk. Her finger pressed the trigger and the single round streaked between cars, narrowly missing an innocent, and struck a pursuer in the head, dropping him instantly and tripping up at least two of the others as he landed on the pavement. 
Two of the men were unfazed by the attack and rushed to cross the street through the traffic, but were immediately cut off from their comrades by a large truck. They pressed on the last several yards only to find the place where Michael and Jamie had stopped was empty. There was no discernable place for the pair to hide and the confusion made their guard lax for just long enough...
The door of the bakery opened, the traditional bell above the door ringing, drawing their attention towards Michael, who was looking across his pistol sights without any emotion at all, the range all but impossible to miss at. The sharp bark of the forty caliber resounded through the street as the two shots rang out, blasting out the head of the lackey. Before his friend could react, Jamie swung her legs from under the car she was hiding beneath, catching his legs in a vice-like scissor grip and forcing his knees to bend, throwing him off balance and to the sidewalk. She was out in a flash and twisted his arms behind him, feeling both shoulders tear a bit from the force applied. His scream was silenced when she smashed his face into the pavement, cracking his skull and ending his life in a bloody mess.
Both looked at the carnage for a restful moment before turning their attention back to their escape. Only three were left, but they would not hesitate to shoot once they found their friends.
“We need to move.”
Jamie smiled back at him, popping her magazine out to check the count and then exchanging it for a full one. “I thought we could to do some window shopping first.”
“Only if the window has a Jaguar in it. Now lets go.”

The car was still where they had left it, parked comfortably inside a hotel garage, taking up a space that was reserved for the long-term lessee of the penthouse suite, a person who was rich enough to have it and too busy to ever use it. Michael paid the garage attendant the final sum for his courtesy, a hefty five hundred Euros, and then led the way to the car, noting that it had been well cared for.  The tells were still in place, so nothing inside had been disturbed and a cautious check of the trunk and its arsenal confirmed that. 
Jamie tossed her bag into the back seat and climbed into the front, taking time to stash her Springfield under the seat in the holster she had put there. Michael climbed in beside her and fired up the SV8 engine, taking a few scant seconds to enjoy the sound of the supercharger as it whined in time with the engine revs.
“How long do you think it’ll take them to figure out where we’re heading?
Michael shook his head and waited for the temperature gauge for the engine to normalize. “Not sure. They’re sure as hell not going to be expecting this.”
“I don’t think anyone would expect this... Where did you get that anyway?” Jamie glanced at the crate on the back seat that Michael had transferred from the trunk.
“A friend gifted it to me.... For a special occasion.” He smiled softly, remembering the night in question.
“Tanya...Hmm, I should have figured.”
“Jealous?” He started to drive, pulling out into the street and heading towards their new destination.
“I couldn’t compete before. I still can’t.” Jamie’s hands quickly loaded her Walther magazines and tucked them into the pouches on her suit.
“You’re getting there, Jamie. It’s comforting and impressive and painful all at once. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, perhaps even her.”
“Liar.”
“I said ‘perhaps’.”
A look told her all she needed to know: Maybe he was still hurting inside, but he was healing slowly as well. Regardless of his feelings for his dead girlfriend, he was feeling something for her as well. 
The thoughts encompassed the rest of the drive and Jamie’s mind only cleared when they entered the target area, and Michael finally stopped the car beside a certain building. They camouflaged the crate with a paper wrap, making it look like a large parcel, and Jamie carried it on her shoulder as they made their way to the roof. 
The early morning sun was in their eyes as it peeked above the distant buildings of Milan but they hunched in the shadows of the roof ledge, working quickly to get set up. Michael was finally ready and trained his spotting scope on the warehouse they had nearly been killed in, noting with some amusement that numerous vehicles were still parked outside. Maybe Amherst was still there...
His phone was in his hand, thumbing through the memory and calling up Amherst’s number waiting for it to be picked up. Finally it was, the voice on the other end sounding surprised, if only by the timing.
“Yes?”
“It’s me, Ian. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m fucking you in the ass as we speak. I hope you feel it burn.”
Michael ended the call and waved a finger at Jamie, at which she stood up and leveled the AT-4 launcher at the ammunition bunker section of the warehouse. Michael had set the HEDP 502 warhead for a delayed detonation. It would make it through the walls of the storage area, of that he had no doubt.
“I’ve got a shot!”
Michael’s answer was emotionless. “Fire.”
The missile roared, pounding their ears and blasting fire behind them, and then streaked through the sky towards the target. The projectile slammed into the wall and there was silence for eternal seconds, enough time for Jamie to toss the launcher and watch with some enjoyment as the explosions finally began in earnest.
The rocket exploded among the ammunition crates, triggering off some parachute flares among them, which in turn launched randomly about, including towards the highly deadly pile of unstable explosives.
The side of the building seemed to rocket out into the rail yard, the concrete and re-bar having little effect in containing the blast. The roof fell in almost instantly, burying the secondary explosions that were still occurring among the volatile contents inside. A wave of fire and raw kinetic energy blasted through the rest of the building, annihilating the ground floor and weakening the structure sufficiently that the three stories seemed to sigh in relief, sagging in on itself as if returning from a hard day’s work. In less than a minute the building was rubble and scrap metal- a disposal contractor’s wet dream.
Jamie frowned, feeling something nagging at her conscience. “Do you think we got him?”
“No.” Michael felt it too. The lack of satisfaction that he was sure would come when Amherst was finally history. “We just tagged a few of his lackeys and cut off his cash supply. He’s still out here somewhere.” 
Michael turned and led the way back to the car but Jamie lagged behind a moment more, smiling softly as the wind brushed through her hair and the remains of the building settled in on itself. Who knew how many had been killed in that blast. She really didn’t care anymore. Her only goal was to kill Ian Amherst, and she was enjoying the hunt itself now. It still amazed her at how fast a mood could change by merely going from the hunted to the hunter.

Daylight had invaded the city once again; the mix of old and new buildings differing slightly in their colors but looking to Michael as one solid shade of beige. Perhaps it was his mindset affecting his view of things. The city didn’t matter. Nor did the people, really. Innocent casualties were preferably avoided, of course, but he now had to admit that he no longer really cared. His decision to destroy the whole building had certainly attested to that. 
Police and fire responders whizzed past the Jag on their way to the mess and the thought that someone actually cared enough for Amherst and his operation as to try to save them made Michael laugh softly to himself.
“Forgive them, O Lord, for they know not what they do.”
“What?” Jamie’s eyes locked onto him, his words having broken a ten-minute silence between them.
“Nothing.”
“Hm.” She returned to looking out the window at the world as it slipped past. Moments like this were when the guilt usually tried to come back, but neither of them felt any. They had made the situation their own, stopping just short of reveling in it. 
A stoplight separated them from the path out of town and Michael knew a little about the road he was about to travel. Isolated, twisting, and dangerous for even the most prepared- a perfect image of what their mission and lives were now. The light turned green and he floored it, blasting through the intersection and speeding out of city limits, the car coming into it’s own and hurtling them towards wherever, just as they themselves were in life.
“Michael? Slow down.”
He looked down and noted that he was doing almost two-hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, the last of the straight stretches of the road coming quickly to an end as the hills loomed above. It did not satisfy him, though. Something inside him was screaming loudly, but he could not understand the words or desires, only the lack of something.
“There’s something wrong...”
“I know.”
Her acknowledgement of it only made the uninteligible screaming in his head louder, making it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else. There was trouble coming.
“I don’t suppose you have a Stinger in the trunk right now, do you?”
“I left it at home.” 
Jamie racked the bolt on her G36 and rolled down the window. “Chopper at two-o-clock. It’s him.”
Michael looked out in that direction but could only see the sky through the trees bordering the road. “How-“
“Trust me, it’s him. I can smell the blood.”
The trees gave way to clearings and he could see it now, a Bell Jet-Ranger with a man in the door, machine gun at the ready.
“M240, I think, Michael. It’ll shred this car in no time.”
The muzzle flashed and Michael immediately swerved, feeling a few rounds pelt the rear panels after they bounced off of the pavement beside the car.
“Steady up now! Give me a shot!”
Jamie was hanging outside the window with her elbow on the roof, steadying her aim through the sight. A full-auto burst made the helo jink roughly, spoiling the aim of the machine gunner inside and making his next volley go wide.
Several more bursts kept the pilot on his toes and the gunner tried desperately to hit the Jaguar. Michael’s instincts were the only thing guiding him as he gauged the appropriate amount of time between swerves that would allow Jamie a steady shot before taking them out of the gunner’s aim. He had not studied vehicle/helicopter combat tactics, as it was something he had always figured was best not to do.
The clearings ended and the car slipped beneath a canopy of green, making the helo maneuver off out of sight, but not out of hearing. It was lurking in wait for them to show themselves. 
Jamie took the breather to reload her magazines from an ammo can. 
“Any ideas, Michael?”
“Not a one.”
“What about the Beo in the trunk?”
He frowned, thinking about it and further ahead. “We’d have to stop to get a good aim on him.”
“Yeah...” Stopping was not an option. A vehicle at a stop was dead.
He was about to mention another thought when a sight ahead made him freeze. He had only a second to react and slammed on the brakes, nearly losing Jamie out the window as the car’s anti-lock brakes chirped the tires rapidly, trying desperately to maintain grip against the weight of the car. 
They both stared out of the windshield at the three cars blocking the road, complete with men with automatic rifles. Amherst was there, his own gun leveled at Michael, a victorious look on his smug face once again.
“Tell me he’s reading my mind...”
“I’m too busy waiting for the skiers with Uzi’s to show up.”
Michael swallowed hard, wincing as the only option at hand came to mind. Escape wasn’t impossible this time, only really unlikely.
Amherst smiled again, ready to start another monologue.
“Well, Christiansen... I hope-“
Michael floored the car in reverse, choosing not to sit through another boring glimpse into a madman’s head. He spun the car around in a perfect J-turn and flipped the paddle shifter into first, flooring it again as bullets from the rifles ripped into the back-end and fractured the rear window. The car strained as Michael kept on the pedal, willing it to accelerate faster than it was capable. 
“Jamie, get ready. You’ve only got one chance at that helo.”
Jamie looked at the helicopter ahead, hovering just above the road in the clearing, the machine gun aiming straight at them, waiting for them to come into an inescapable range.
“Transmission?” Hitting that would probably force it to land.
“Take care of the gunner first. Take the pilot if you can.”
The car was speeding towards the target, wind whipping Jamie’s hair as she leaned out of the window to take aim. The red dot slipped over the door of the helo and she let loose, trusting the rounds to do their job and fly true. The machine gunner fired at the same time, bullets stitching a line on the pavement towards the Jag as the pilot added collective to get out of Jamie’s fire and the gunner over-corrected for it, going low. 
A round caught him in the chest and he pitched forward in pain, losing balance and falling from the rising helicopter, landing hard in the road in front of them. Michael swerved hard to miss the body, breaking the wheels loose and sliding. The car missed the body but a wheel caught the machine gun, catching it up into the control arm and flipping it around wildly before tossing it free. 
Michael felt the rear tire go flat, with the pull to the left and associated sponginess of the rubber flexing on the road. Letting off of the gas eased it some and helped to maintain control, but they were extremely vulnerable now. He started kicking himself mentally for skipping on the run-flat tires.
“Incoming!”
Jamie’s warning made him glance around, spotting Amherst’s SUVs coming from behind. The Jag’s reluctance to stabilize on the road made a faster speed impossible.
“Jamie! Take them out.”
“Yes sir!”
She leaned out the window again and started trading shots with the lead chaser, but the first couple of hits only served to show her that the cars were armored, with even the rifle rounds barely marking it. She immediately switched to trying to hit the shooter, but the smaller target was difficult with the erratic movement of the Jag, the tail wavering as Michael tried to keep it on the road at sixty miles per hour.
The helo roared closer and tried to knock the Jag with its skid, bumping the car twice before pulling up to avoid more trees. The resulting swerves rattled Jamie around, nearly tossing her out of the window. She glanced back in to look at Michael, his hands white on the wheel and eyes quickly shifting between the roads ahead and behind. He was trying his best to keep them alive and she had to do the same.
Jamie slapped in her last magazine for the G36 and leaned out again, flipping it to full-auto and firing, letting the car’s motion spread the bullets around. Her second burst finally found its mark and the gunner collapsed half out of the window. Jamie’s victory was short-lived, however, as the car pulled back and let another move up, its passenger leaning out with an MP5.
The third burst emptied the rifle and she had no choice but to toss it away and pull her Walther, its size looking pathetic compared to what she was facing down. She focused carefully, snapping off shots as the target slid into her sights. Her slide locked back on the empty magazine and she quickly swapped it for one on her suit. The MP5 rattled in bursts and she could feel the bullets whizzing past her head. 
Michael thought he was getting the hang of the way the car was reacting to the controls and he added a bit more speed, hoping to keep the armored vehicles at some distance. Jamie was firing away and changing magazines as fast as she could, but was quickly running low. He thought he should tell her that she only had two left, in case she had lost count in the action.
“Jamie!”
“Yeah?”
“You have two left.”
“What?”
She turned her head to look at him, not understanding what he was saying. His eyes met hers and Michael experienced a moment in time- a frozen image, like a picture- where everything seemed to stop. His mind tried to figure out what was going on- why this was happening now. 
The moment was over just as quickly when she started to look back at the pursuer, followed by the shocking image of her head snapping back as a bullet caught her in the eye, a gout of clear liquid flashing out of it.
Jamie sagged against the door and then slid into a heap between the floor and the seat, her body lifeless and rag-doll like. The sight shocked Michael, freezing him to stone as his mind tried to comprehend the image- his bold, beautiful, and invincible Jamie was dead.
He didn’t feel the next burst from the submachine gun, even as it tore through the back window and winged him on the shoulder. His shock was totally overwhelming as he felt his world start to fall to pieces around him. There was just no way it was real.
The armored SUV moved up and rammed the back of the car, releasing it from its tenuous hold on the road and slipping it sideways. Instinctually, Michael started to correct the car’s motion, a correction lacking the adjustment for the blown tire. He over-corrected and the car started to slide the other way, slipping into the gravel along the edge and dragging the car that way.
The car plunged off of an embankment at an angle, hitting nose first and cart-wheeling into the air. Michael watched in slow motion as the world outside spun, and then Jamie’s body was lifted up and out of the window, away from his out-reaching hand’s grasp just before the roof crumpled in.

Ian Amherst climbed from the SUV and stepped down the embankment, not bother to train his rifle where his men’s guns already were. The Jaguar was a mess, with its roof crushed in and the front end smashed and caked with mud, and every panel crumpled beyond repair. Half of a tree was embedded in the passenger side from the front, and the driver’s door was loosely fastened.
Despite his feeling that everything was quiet, he approached the door carefully, knowing full well that this pair was very difficult to kill. No one had given him such a hard time before. He wasn’t sure whether it was their level of force they presented or their seeming inconsistency in predictability, but he knew that they should not be taken for granted. He had done so three times so far, to his misfortune.
Christiansen was there in the driver’s seat. His arm flopped out as the door came open, as unconscious and harmless as the rest of him. The girl was missing, though, and given her own dangerous nature, Amherst glanced around rapidly to find her.
“Phil! You and Robbie fan out and find the girl.”
The two stepped away and started rooting through the brush carefully, fully aware of the threat they were facing. Amherst turned back to Michael Christiansen, hearing a moan from the man as he slowly started to come to. He was in no shape to move on his own, likely having a concussion from the roof caving in.
“Take your time waking up, Christiansen... When you do, you’re in for a world of pain.”

Michael struggled to open his eyes. His head hurt, his eyes were blurry, and none of his muscles would move as he wanted. He’d heard Amherst’s words but failed to comprehend, so his mind was chewing on those, even as he struggled to regain control of his body.
“Amherst! I found the girl!”
Michael managed to turn his head a little, watching as Amherst moved off out of sight to attend to his lackey. Some of his listening skills were coming back and he focused to understand what Amherst was saying in return.
“Is she dead?”
“Yeah. She’s got a bullet through her eye.”
“Empty the magazine into her and lets get moving.”
“But she’s dead already!”
“I said make sure!” There was a rustling of underbrush and Michael could see Ian Amherst again, smirking at him. “Phillip. Get him out of there and into the car.”
A man unfastened Michael seatbelt and pulled him free of the car, setting off a new wave of pain from his head. The last sound he heard before falling unconscious again was a ten round burst from an MP5.