Page 40 of Tough as Steele

Bullets peppered the front of the car. The truck revved and tires ground over the gravel.

She had to stop these guys before they got away. Officers were trained not to shoot out tires on a vehicle where it could crash into and injure other people, but in this case, the truck had fields surrounding it. Sure, they might hit an old appliance or clunker, but they would hurt only themselves.

She lowered her window and drew her sidearm. She climbed onto the seat and aimed out the window.

“Stay down!” Nate yelled.

“Got to stop them.” She fired at the truck tires, but the car bumped violently, and her shot went wide.

“Hold on! He’s going to ram us before I can get back to the road.” Nate reversed gears and floored the vehicle. The car veered right off the drive and through the open field.

They bumped. Thumped. Careened as Nate steered around Wigg’s junk.

She hit her head against the window.

“Down, Steele,” Nate said. “Please!”

She wanted to accommodate him, especially with his pleading tone, but she had a duty here to try to stop this truck.

The pickup roared closer. Bullets penetrated the car’s body. A front tire blew, and Nate’s vehicle veered right.

A paralyzing claw of fear clutched her heart. Her hand shook.

Too bad. She had to act. She steadied her hand. Aimed. Fired.

The car bumped over a rut, the flat tire ruining the vehicle’s suspension.

Her hand jolted. She’d missed her mark.

She aimed and fired again. Missed again.

The truck came parallel to their car, bringing the tires out of her range.

She’d failed. Big time.

“Driver is male!” Bristol called out from the back. “Passenger is also a guy and the shooter. No one else in the truck.”

The truck passed them. Londyn spun. Saw Bristol with her binoculars pointed at the truck. Nate kicked their vehicle into high speed, racing toward the house.

Bristol read off the license plate number. “Remember it.”

Londyn kept chanting it in her head but thoughts of what to do next challenged it. Their job was to protect their lives and innocent lives at all costs. Mimi was the innocent victim here, and she wasn’t in the truck. She could be in the house.

Nate lurched to a stop in the field. “We’ll put out an alert for the truck and breach the house to check on Mimi.”

“Agreed,” Londyn said.

“Yeah, but man,” Bristol said. “I want to take off after those guys.”

“We all do.” Nate gritted his teeth and grabbed the mic for his radio. At the same time, he swiveled his computer to face him.

Londyn kept her eyes open for any further danger, Bristol doing the same thing.

He reported the vehicle with armed occupants. “I need units to give chase and units to secure the scene as a hot call.”

He was asking for them to urgently respond to the scene. Dispatch would take care of forwarding the request to Multnomah County.

“Let me check the truck plate.” He started typing.

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