Chapter 10 - The Road to the Capital
The ignition wires sparked with a shower of blue light as I stripped and twisted them together. The heavy V8 engine roared to life with a deafening, throaty growl that shattered the quiet suburban night.
“Hold on!” I shouted, slamming the gearshift into reverse and kicking the gas pedal to the floor.
The metal shed doors blew outward in a shower of splintered wood and twisted steel as the truck launched backward into the yard. From the front of the house, startled shouts rang out, followed immediately by the sharp crack of gunfire. Bullets pinged harmlessly off the tailgate, punching two clean holes through the rear window as I yanked the steering wheel hard, spinning the truck around and tearing down the dirt driveway toward the main highway.
“They’re in pursuit!” Hayes yelled from the bed of the truck, kneeling behind the cab and firing two controlled bursts from his rifle back toward the house.
In the side mirror, I saw the headlights of the two black SUVs snap on, boiling out of the driveway and accelerating hard in our dust.
“Hold on to something!” I roared, shifting into fourth gear as we hit the paved state road, the tires squealing against the wet asphalt.
My mother sat silently in the middle seat between Vance and me, her hands clutched tightly in her lap, staring straight ahead through the cracked windshield as the dark Virginia pine trees blurred into a wall of racing green.
The satellite phone on the dashboard lit up, vibrating violently against the plastic console. An incoming encrypted call from a restricted Pentagon secure line.
I hit speakerphone with one hand while keeping the truck steady at eighty miles per hour around a blind curve.
“General Mitchell,” a cold, familiar voice echoed through the cab—a voice I hadn't heard since my final briefing at the Pentagon before deployment. It was Director Sterling, the head of military intelligence oversight. “Your automated transmission has triggered an agency-wide lockdown. You need to pull over immediately and surrender the hardware.”
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I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my eyes locked on the dark highway stretching ahead toward Washington.
“Director Sterling,” I replied, my voice hard as iron. “You’re talking to the officer who just wiped out your local hit squad. If you want this drive, you’re going to have to stop me yourself.”
