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Chapter 24

Targets in the Crosshairs

2040 – Undisclosed location

Elvis heard voices but had to strain to hear what the targets were saying. From his distance the details were muffled. The one with feet on the ground began to move, leaving the cabin door open. Elvis dropped onto his front and slithered under the rig. Marty grumbled to himself.

"Sick of her bullshit…."

Elvis tracked each foot step, keen to strike. Marty moved cautiously along the side of the rig before swinging himself around to the rear, arms extended, pistol in hand to challenge a would-be attacker. He was stunned however, and even more so relieved, that no one was there. His eyes were wide, rolling in every direction, chest heaving. He could hear nothing over the humming of the idling engine, coughing away the stench from the exhaust fumes. He pivoted to the other side and could see Avery in the side mirror, her gaze riveted on his reflection. The dim console lights cast an eerie outline of her pinched expression. He so wanted to squeeze the trigger in her direction. She lowered the window and shouted, "Are we done playing now?"

"Shut the fuck up! There was something out here!"

"Good on you to find it then. We have work to do!"

Marty dragged a shirt sleeve across his forehead, feeling drenched in his own nervous sweat. Crossing back across the rear of the rig he skidded to a stop, ears, and eyes almost frozen as he tried to pinpoint what he thought he heard. Was the tail pipe whistling?" He looked around, he was surrounded by brick walls. There it is again! He rubbed an itch away from his cheek with the pistol barrel and slowly crouched down, one hand leaning on the bumper. A blistering recoil from Elvis' heavily booted feet sent him reeling backwards in a heap. The Special Forces captain swiftly emerged to pounce, not giving this target a chance to recover. Elvis brushed the dropped pistol away as he straddled Marty, punching him completely unconscious.

Avery's patience wore thin. She tried to look in the mirrors to locate her accomplice's where abouts. She saw nothing. "What are you doing? Get your arse back in here!" she shouted.

"Wha's yer hurry?"

The voice was deep, cold, but his warm breath against her ear lit up her spine. When she tried to turn her head, she felt the gun metal against her temple.

"Do not move."

The sound of that voice flashed in her memory.

"You." She said.

Elvis smirked. "Put yer hands on yer head."

He saw a pistol sat near the radio controls. She hesitated, and he pressed the barrel into her flesh.

"Now."

The calm tension in his voice forced her decision to comply. Obviously, Marty had been subdued or perhaps even dead.

"Who are you?" she said slowly lifting her hands up to the top of her head.

"You don't wanna know."

She swallowed hard. Her heart pounded with each thought of how much she hated this man. Keeping the pistol leveled on her Elvis reached into a back pocket and pulled out a pair of zip ties.

"Lean forward," he said, tucking the Glock between his waistband. He grabbed hold of her wrists and hurried her actions along by pushing her front against the dashboard

"You're hurting me!"

Elvis gave her a look and pulled the ties snug. "Tell 'at to the medic ya gave a shit about."

Once she was subdued, he lifted her pistol from the radio console and tossed it out the driver's open door. Avery huffed and writhed against the ties.

"You think a lot about yourself, don't you?" she sneered.

"Constantly."

Her phone lit up with the text message: Five minutes out. They both noticed.

"Ha! You're a dead man!" she said.

Elvis grinned, "Who? Me or the caller?"

Avery closed her mouth. He hopped down from the running board and slammed the door shut. Avery struggled and lit into Elvis with a string of expletives. He yanked the rear door open and saw the medic lying there bound and unconscious. He had no time to determine otherwise. He hefted and hoisted Marty, plopping him inside as well. Avery knew something was going on in the rear compartment but she could not twist herself around to look through the treatment window. She struggled further to free herself, stomping her feet in frustration. She heard Elvis talking to someone, then he appeared at the driver's door. He hopped in, leaned out to pull the door closed and took a quick glance at Avery.

"Wha's our time?"

"What?!" she said, disgusted and not really wanting to talk to him.

"Time. How we doin?"

She sneered, "You'll never make it."

He flashed a toothy grin as he buckled himself in. "Watch me."

Without warning he put the rig in reverse and stomped on the gas pedal forcing Avery back hard against the seat. She saw the brick wall in front of them become smaller and smaller and braced herself for certain impact. Her mobile lit up again, forcing her heart into her throat. Elvis saw the headlights turning the corner towards them, but he was relentless, crashing the ambulance into the oncoming sedan, forcing the smaller vehicle sideways and back. Grotesque sounds of crunching metal were replaced by squealing rubber as he spun the steering wheel this way and that, expertly maneuvering away. Avery wiggled in her seat trying to regain composure and view the aftermath in the side mirror.

"They won't stop," she said.

"Oh yeah? That one ain't goin anywhere," Elvis said taking a gander himself.

She laughed, "You have no idea who you are dealing with."

Elvis turned his head to look at her. His expression made her blink and rethink her bravado.

"Neither do they," he said.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth and a volley of bullets pot marked the rear doors of the ambulance rig.

"I told you!" Avery said.

He laughed. "Game on!"

She curled her upper lip at him but beads of sweat were dampening her hair. "Did you kill Marty?" she said.

Elvis maneuvered to cut off an attacker from coming up along side his door and received a spray of bullets in return. He turned the steering wheel hard to ram this sedan, crashing in a front fender and tire, causing the driver to skid up onto a side walk. Elvis took advantage and fired several shots into the boot and shattering the rear window. He sped away picking up the radio hand set.

"Echo one to command. Read me, over?"

Avery's eyes almost popped onto her lap.

"Command reads you echo one. Over."

"Listen in. Oscar mike. Heavy contact. Two tango vehicles down. I 'ave a wally trussed on board in addition to his not so pleasant accomplice. Need medic support ASAP. Do you 'ave eyes on? Over."

"Copy echo one. Affirmative."

That was all Elvis needed to know. He relayed that he is on the move and engaged in combat. One casualty. Now he knows he has back up.

"You'll pay for this, I fucking swear!" Avery said reminding Elvis of a child's tantrum.

"I don't reckon I will. You, on the other hand, will be spending loads of time behind bars."

They could see flashing red and blue lights in the distance. Metro was shutting down the options. Side streets were intentionally blocked with heavy duty lorries. They were heading for a dead-end road block. Machine gun fire riddled the rear bumper of the rig as the targets attempted to take out the tires.

Elvis grinned, "Is 'at all ya got?"

His flack jacket would provide some coverage but not nearly enough for what he had in mind.

"Sit back sweetheart," he said and spun the steering wheel hard, almost standing on the brake pedal to stop cold. Avery rocked in her seat like a rag doll as Elvis maneuvered to position the rig horizontal to the now approaching SUVs. He grabbed the Glock from his waist and shot out both target's windshields, one driver was fatally hit, sending that vehicle crashing up over a curb into a solid metal pole. The other driver was wounded but kept the SUV coming. Armed passengers hung out of the windows, increasing their fire power.

The Special Forces captain returned fire, emptying a magazine, dropping the clip at the same time he grabbed another from his belt. The rig shook with such violent force when the SUV rammed them that for s split second Elvis thought it would topple over. He quickly undid his and Avery's seat belts and leaned over her to release the door handle.

"Move!" he ordered, pushing her out.

She fell onto the pavement with a thud, followed by Elvis leaping down next to her. Bullets peppered the interior of the cabin bursting every piece of glass into projectiles.

"Dead man," Avery sneered.

Elvis ignored her. He was focused on the ground beneath the rig. He could see two sets of feet approaching. Without hesitation he shot both men down to the ground. Before either could retaliate, he fired again. This time the confrontation ended. Avery renewed her struggle to escape, realizing her chances of rescue were fading. This man had absolutely no fear. He knew exactly what he was doing, as if he had done this countless times. Metro sirens squealed, the din becoming louder and louder. She could see them approaching. It was a tsunami of law enforcement.

"Time to face the music," Elvis said grabbing her upper arm and pulling her to her feet. She tried to pull away but he held her fast until three Metro officers came near.

"Avery Bowers?" one officer said.

Elvis pushed her towards him. She remained silent.

"You are under arrest…"

Elvis stepped back, engaged his coms and said, "Echo one to command. Over."

"Command copies. Go ahead echo one. Over."

"Mission accomplished."