One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [153]
I turned around and felt a shock slap through my body. Jennifer was walking slowly to the back of our car, stooped over with a hand at her back, giving the impression of an injury.
Both Mason and the man to my right were focused on the activity to the rear. I didn’t have a clue what Jennifer was doing but knew instinctively it was going to be borderline insane. She has no idea what she’s up against. Before I could even come up with a half-baked plan, I heard Mason shout.
“What the fuck is that bitch doing! Jesus Christ!”
I looked back again and saw the driver doubled over holding his genitals. I watched Jennifer wind back up and kick him again, apparently attempting to drive the man’s balls up into his neck. He fell over onto the ground. Jennifer proceeded to kick him in the head with all of her might. Jesus, she’s lost her mind. His body was now on the ground and hidden from view, but Jennifer’s leg pistoning back and forth like a jackhammer was not.
Mason threw open the door, screaming, “Watch Pike!”
The man to my right was still fixated on the beating the driver was receiving. The situation clicked—one man exiting the vehicle, the other focused on the fight. Neither one paying attention to me. Big mistake.
I drew my head back and slammed it full force into the face of the guy to my right, the hard, thick portion of skull right above my eyes caving in the brittle bones of the man’s nose and eye sockets with a sickening crunch. Rotating toward Mason, I used every bit of strength I had to kick out with both feet, catching him halfway out of the door and launching him out of the car like I’d strapped his ass into an ejection seat. I ripped the Glock out of the lifeless hands of the first man and dove out the other passenger door just as Mason recovered and began firing into the back of the car, missing me but killing his unconscious partner.
I heard Jennifer scream, “Pike!,” then the sounds of gunfire. Shit. Move faster. She’s gonna get hit. Rising up on a knee, I saw Jennifer running to the back of our rental SUV with Mason standing up trying to get a clear shot.
I raised the weapon in a two-handed grip, smoothly settled the front sight post on Mason’s head, and squeezed the trigger.
“Good-bye, motherfucker.”
The force of the round threw Mason into the ditch beside the road, his head cratered open with bits of bone and brain matter oozing slowly onto the ground, his eyes looking skyward, unseeing.
Seeing no other threats, I said, “Jennifer! Come out! It’s okay.”
I ran to the passenger side of the Pajero. “Hurry up. We need to get out of here before that second car comes back, and I can’t drive with handcuffs on.”
Jennifer jumped inside and turned the key. The starter ground over but failed to catch.
“Shit! I didn’t hit you guys that hard.”
“Forget this thing, get out and go to the sedan.” I jumped out just as the other carload of men came flying back around the mountain curve at a high rate of speed.
“Too late,” I said. “Come out this side. Get behind the Pajero.”
Jennifer crawled across the seat, exiting the passenger side and ending up on the ground next to me. Before I would lose the chance, I ran in a crouch to Mason, ripping the spare magazines for the Glock 19 from his belt.
The car came to a stop, both doors flying open, the men crouching behind them preparing to fire. The air grew silent, with the occasional whisper from the men carrying across the roadway.
I peeked around the Pajero, talking over my shoulder to Jennifer. “What in the hell was that all about?”
“Beats me,” Jennifer said, breathing hard. “I was winging it, but it worked.”
I pulled back around. “Man, I’ve seen some seat-of-the-pants shit before, but this is an absolute record.”
I saw her laugh, apparently completely confident that everything would now turn out perfect. She doesn’t get it. She’s used to miracles happening. I knew the truth. I was facing three trained killers with two magazines of 9mm and shackled hands. I looked to our rear for an escape route and saw a hill rise about seventy-five feet. We go that way