Page 12 of Covert Vengeance

Amber swerved as he fired, already whipping out her pistol to return fire. She hit him in the neck and he dropped.

People cried out and started running, adding to the confusion. She hit the throttle, the bike’s back tire squealing against the pavement as she zipped in between rows of traffic for cover, counting on the shooter not firing through a crowd. Amber didn’t look back for him, her attention on finding a path out.

“Get down, get down!” someone was yelling.

People jumped and scattered out of the way like a flock of startled birds as she raced past vehicles and pedestrians alike. Horns blared, angry and frightened voices rising around her.

Blood pulsed in her ears as she sped down the street. A block up she glanced behind her, cursed when she saw the man in the leather jacket racing after her on another bike.

What the hell? Whowasthat guy? Twice now he’d found her. Last night he’d helped her and let her go. Today he was hunting her.

Thank God she wasn’t on foot or in a car. The bike allowed her to zip in and out of the slower moving traffic at will. But there was congestion up ahead. She muttered a curse and shot through a crowded intersection, dodged a group of people that earned her shouts and rude gestures.

Come on, come on, she mentally chanted, searching for a clear path that would allow her to put some distance between her and the man coming after her.

She raced through a red light, the squeal of tires and crunching of metal behind her hopefully providing her with enough of a roadblock to lose her determined pursuer. But when she snuck a glance over her shoulder to check, her heart seized when she saw the guy on the bike was still coming, bent low over the handlebars and catching up fast.

Fuck this shit.

Amber leaned her weight forward and gunned it, driving as fast as she dared toward the edge of the city. There were only a handful of roads out of the city that didn’t have security checkpoints, all of them too small for cars or trucks to pass through. But bikes were another matter.

She raced for the closest one, checking behind her every few seconds. He was still there, gaining on her ever so slightly on his bike.

God, if she couldn’t shake him on the side streets, then she needed some open road to lose this asshole.

It felt like forever before she got some. As soon as she cleared the final hurdle and reached a two-lane highway, she punched it.

The bike responded with a powerful roar and ate up the asphalt beneath her. She wove her way in and out of the light traffic, heading for the hills outside the city. Her tail was still behind her. The traffic grew sparser the farther they got out of the city and the road began to grow curvy.

She dodged slower moving trucks, hugging the center lane divider. Horns blasted as she shot between a large delivery truck and an oncoming car, the force of the wind they created punching against her body.

Zipping in front of the truck as they curved sharply left, she leaned all the way over to maintain her speed, her left knee almost brushing the ground.

As soon as she cleared the turn she righted herself and stole a glance over her shoulder. Shit, he was still back there, not as close now but he definitely wasn’t giving up.

She faced forward again. Ahead, the road coiled back and forth in an endless ribbon, winding its way up the hill like a huge asphalt snake as it climbed.

Dammit, she couldn’t shake him here. And her fuel gauge was nearing the point of no return. She needed to conserve enough to return to the city and follow the convoy to the target building, because Hannah was out of time.

The guy hadn’t shot at her. Not last night, and not today, and he could have. But he was chasing her like his life depended on catching her.

There were only two logical explanations. He’d either been sent to help her—by who, she didn’t know—or capture her alive and take her to whoever had hired him. Maybe even Fayez Rahman.

Not happening.

An idea formed in the back of her brain.

It was risky. Maybe even crazy. But it was the only way to find out how much of a threat this guy was.

Her right hand twitched on the handlebar, ready to dive for her pistol. But not yet.

If she was right about this, she’d live to fight another day. If she was wrong…

This lonely mountain road would be the last thing she ever saw.

****

Damn, the woman could ride.

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