Page 38 of Vows Made in Silence
Strings and Shadows
The black SUV roars to life as we cut through the dark. My knuckles grip the wheel, every part of me vibrating with vengeance. I’ve killed for less.
This time it is personal.
“We’ve got four minutes until the intercept.” Turk says over the comm.
I want them surrounded. No one escapes the retribution.
The signal jumps. I hear Turk say. “They turned off the main road.”
I grit my teeth. “They’re trying to vanish.”
Not tonight.
—
The van swerves through a construction zone—cones and fencing flying. We’re right on their tail. I slam the wheel left, metal scraping against the edge of a concrete divider as the SUV roars into the dirt.
“I can’t lose them!”
I hear Turk say. “Nick’s team is one click behind. They’ll cut them off before the drainage tunnel.”
I reach for the switch under the dash—flip it. The grill-mounted lights snap on, blinding and furious.
“Hit them now,” I growl into the comm.
I see through all the dust Turk aiming a short-range rifle at the Van. One shot explodes, taking out the van’s back tire.
The vehicle skids hard, fishtailing across the gravel.
My SUV slams into them just as they try to correct. Metal screams. We spin together in a sick collision of velocity and wrath.
The van jerks to a stop against a fence. Before I can throw open my door, it happens—someone climbs out of the passenger side, dragging Daniel.
Gun to his head.
And I see red.
Before I can move, the rumble of engines floods the air.
Reinforcements.
Nick’s SUV screeches in from the east, slamming to a halt just behind us. The doors fly open and men pour out like a wave of vengeance. Junior's there too, eyes wild with fury, twin pistols drawn as he shouts commands.
Turk gets on comms instantly. “They’ve got the boy at gunpoint. No clean shot.”
“Surround them!” Junior barks. “Don’t let them double back. Eyes on every exit!”
The van is encircled in seconds. Turk takes a position on the hood of a nearby wrecked sedan, red dot dancing on the forehead of the bastard holding my son.
Daniel’s shaking. His little eyes meet mine.
And I promise him—without speaking—I will not let him die tonight.
But it’s already too late.
A second van explodes out from behind a mound of debris—no headlights, no warning. A diversion.
