Flint’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #3)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

“What’s the matter, Detective McClane? You haven’t said a word since we left the station.”

Emery pushed down the pain and anger burning beneath her skin, glancing over at the blond asshole sitting beside her. His gun in his right hand. Not quite trained on her, but available. A deterrent, she supposed, to dissuade her from attempting some sort of coup. Which she would, pistol or not. She just needed the right circumstances.

She looked away. “You wouldn’t like anything I have to say.”

“Are we talking about Jack or your new boyfriend? Because Jack should live.” The guy shrugged. “As long as someone came along. I could have killed him. Had his head in my crosshairs. But I wanted him to live so he can spend the rest of his life knowing he failed.”

The creep leaned closer. “Your brother’s a fucking hard ass. He needed a reality check.”

She scoffed. “He’s not the only one, then.”

“Really? And why do I need a reality check?”

“Not just you. Bates, too, if either of you think you’re getting out of this alive.”

Bates glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Eyes wide. Mouth pursed. Some of the color drained from his face as he looked over at blondie.

Morgan chuckled. “I’m fairly certain I’m the one holding the gun.”

“For now.”

“You can barely sit straight and your shoulder’s bleeding, again. Maybe if you were at full strength, you’d be a threat. But like this…”

Emery waited for him to finish snickering before turning to face him. “I never said I’d be the one to take you down. I will, if given the chance. But I’m the least of your worries.” She made eye contact with Bates in the mirror. “Do you have any idea the level of enemy you’ve made?”

Bates grunted. “Morgan. What is she talking about?”

“I assume she means her new boyfriend.” The asshole inched closer. “Do you really think I’m afraid of him just because he’s some kind of grunt soldier? Please. I’ve got training, too.”

Emery smiled. “Is that what you think? That he’s regular Army?”

“Let me guess. He’s a sniper or something.”

“He’s a Navy SEAL, asshole.”

“Navy SEAL?” Bates’ voice wheezed through the vehicle, a full octave higher than before. “Aren’t those the guys who killed bin Laden?”

“Relax, Bates. She’s lying.”

“I don’t know. The way those guys moved. They weren’t ordinary military.”

“Who cares what he is. She’s just trying to rile you. Don’t make it easy for her.” He stared at Emery. “I’ll call your bluff, McClane. Because I doubt he’ll catch up.”

“That’s the point. It doesn’t matter how far you run. Where you go. He’ll come after you. Make it his sole mission to hunt you down.” She leaned closer. “You’re already dead. The bullet just hasn’t found you, yet.”

Morgan’s smile faltered.

Emery leaned against the seat. “Which is more than I can say for Bates. He still thinks he’s part of your long-term plan. He doesn’t know you’re going to kill him once we reach whatever harbor you’re heading for, does he?”

Bates coughed. “Morgan?”

Morgan huffed. “I already told you that she’s lying.”

“Am I? Then why did you have a clean-up crew at the hospital? Those were Henry Russo’s men. If you’re willing to kill them — to risk payback from one of the oldest and most powerful cartels in Florida — then why would you keep an officer around who’s no longer useful to you?” She made eye contact with Bates. “You signed your own death warrant the moment you blew your cover. And I have a feeling this boat won’t be big enough for all of us.”

Morgan chuckled. “You’re right about one thing. The boat won’t be big enough for you. You’re just our insurance policy until we get into international waters. Then…”

He leaned toward the front seat, eyeing Bates. “Which won’t happen if you keep driving like a soccer mom.”

Bates grunted. “Are you blind? The fog’s thicker than shit, and the wipers can’t keep up with all this rain.”

“I don’t want excuses. I want to get to the damn boat before anyone knows we took her.”

“Then, you drive. Because cars go off this road every year. Ask McClane. Her friends died not far from here. She’s the only one who made it out alive.”

Morgan gave her a side eye. “Right. That plate in your shoulder that miraculously saved your life. Too bad it looks like your nine lives are up.”

“Maybe.” Emery shrugged her good shoulder. “Or maybe it doesn’t matter how fast or slow you drive because they’ve got a helicopter.”

Morgan scoffed. “Even if they had access to one, no one’s flying in this shit.”

“No civilian pilot, but an ex-Coast Guard officer?” She smiled. “That’s another story, because she’ll fly in anything. Unless you really believe that low echo outside is just thunder.”

Morgan froze. Not enough Emery could make her move, yet, but close. A glimpse of hope that if she timed everything perfectly, she might get an opening.

Bates slowed, looking out the windows at the fog. “I swear I hear something.”

Morgan sneered, shifting back. “She’s lying. Keep driving. And find the damn gas pedal.”

Bates kept scanning the skies, but he sped up, the truck shimmying a bit when it hit some standing water.

Morgan eyed her, brow furrowed. His lips curved into a hint of a frown. “You can shut up, now.”

“You’re the one who told me to talk.” Emery made a point of ducking her head enough to stare out Morgan’s window. “Not that it matters. It’s all gonna be over in about five seconds, so…”

Bates snapped his head to the right, swerving the SUV onto the shoulder. The sudden shift in direction tipped Morgan off to the left, then slammed him against the rear door when Bates overcorrected — had them crossing over into the left lane.

That was all Emery needed to make a move. A click of the seatbelt and she slid over to Morgan’s side — giving him a firm elbow to the head. Smashing his face into the window. A shift and a reach, and she had both hands over his on the grip of his gun — managed to aim it toward the front.

Morgan countered, hitting her in the shoulder. Nearly blacking her out. Until she head-butted the guy. Probably split her damn forehead open, but it knocked him back. Loosened his hold on the gun.

One last body slam and she’d redirected the muzzle as she helped him pull the trigger…

The report boomed through the cab, splattering blood across the interior as Bates jerked then bobbed forward, — collapsing over the steering wheel. Lights cut through the fog in front of them, an on-coming car barely veering out of the way as the vehicle cut hard to the left, heading for the barriers.

The shift jostled them left then right, Morgan’s gun clattering to the floor when the sheer momentum tore it from their grasp. Morgan shouted as he shoved her off, scrambling for his seatbelt. Emery managed to spin — wrap her left arm around the seatbelt before giving him one final boot to the head — as the SUV crashed through the metal fence lining the road. Glass splintered through the interior, one peg shooting through the windshield and embedding in the seat between them. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, the posts grinding across the hood of the car as it careened toward the edge.

The tires must have caught on the fencing wire because the front end dug in, jackknifing the vehicle up and over — vaulting it off the edge. Emery flew up, hitting the rear window as the SUV spun, tossing everything not tied down into the air. Glass and debris flew through the interior, that metal post working loose and shooting out the rear window — nearly clipping Emery in the process. A moment of free fall — of Morgan held in place by the belt — then there were turning. Racing down toward the rocks.

Emery hit the top of Bates’ seat then bounced back just as the SUV landed on the embankment, still sliding down the rocks and dirt before grinding to a halt. Tossing everything toward the front. She hit hard, getting wedged somewhere behind the driver’s seat as the sides caved in around her. She thought Morgan was shouting her name, but it faded into the hum of the engine. What sounded like the surf crashing into the rocks below them. There was a distant thudding noise — that chopper sound she’d lied about — then nothing.