Page 69 of Shadowed Agenda

Pavlo’s cell phone tumbled to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it. The red glow that spilled onto his cell phone caught his eye first. The numbers were counting down the seconds.

“It’s counting down!” Pavlo shouted.

Drake slammed on the brakes.

They flung open the doors and raced down the shoulder away from the SUV.

“Fourteen, thirteen, twelve,” Pavlo shouted out the silent countdown he’d begun when he spotted the bomb.

At three, a car turned around the corner.

At two, Pavlo and Drake waved wildly at the car to stop.

At one, the car slammed on its brakes.

At zero, they both flung themselves onto the strip of weeds along the shoulder. They covered their heads with their arms as a loud boom filled the air. Pieces of the SUV rained down on them.

“Fuck,” Drake said. A piece of the burning debris had obviously clipped him.

“You okay?” Pavlo asked as he stood up.

“I’ll live,” Drake said as he ripped off his suit jacket. There was a burn mark along one sleeve. “It wasn’t sharp. It bounced off my arm.”

He rolled up the shirt sleeve with the matching burn mark. A nasty red line ran down his arm.

“First degree,” Drake said. “I’ve had worse, but it hurts like hell.”

Any sympathy Pavlo would have given him was cut off by the sharp honk of the bright yellow car several yards down the shoulder.

It hadn’t gotten off that easily. A piece of charred metal rested on the roof. It looked like part of a door.

The car honked again.

“There was a beater parked on the gas station lot. A pickup truck. If this guy doesn’t give us a ride, we’ll borrow the truck,” Pavlo said as they jogged toward it. “I have no problem paying a few thousand for a chocolate bar.”

“Hurry,” a voice shouted at them as the driver’s door opened. Finlay stepped out. “We can catch up to them.”

“Son of a bitch,” Drake grumbled and picked up his pace. “The woman just doesn’t know when to give up.”

Pavlo laughed, and Drake glared at him. Drakedid notlike reporters. Pavlo could guess how he’d feel about owing Finlay one.

“Sure glad I decided not to catch a ride with you boys,” Finlay said as they approached the compact car and slid back into the driver’s seat.

Pavlo walked to the front passenger door. Drake threw his suit jacket over the roof to Pavlo. He wrapped it around his hand and used the improvised oven mitt to remove the mangled door from the car’s roof.

Drake caught the driver’s door with one hand as it swung shut. “I’m driving.”

“After what you did to that rental? I don’t think so,” Finlay replied.

“Honey, you either move over, or I’ll pick you up and leave you on the side of the road.”

Finlay scrambled over the compact car’s gearshift and glared at Pavlo. He opened the car door and got out. She crawled into the vacant seat. He waited until she was seated before closing the door and hopping into the back seat.

“Drive carefully. Pay attention to the road. This car better make it back in one piece.” Finlay snapped a few cell phone shots as they passed the burning vehicle. “The rental agency is still holding a river incident against me. I couldn’t afford collision.”

“I hope you have glass coverage.” Drake pointed a finger at the jagged line across the front windshield.

“My new insurance company gives me three freebies before I pay,” she said while she examined the photos she’d taken.

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