Free Day of Reckoning by Stephen England

car, but if they were going to fire blindly, he reasoned, they would have already started.
    At times you could even use people’s very professionalism against them.
    “They’re going to come up on your side,” he declared, speaking slowly, calmly. Nothing was so serious that it couldn’t be made worse by miscommunication. “And they’re going to come up shooting.”
    From her position on the floorboards, Carol nodded, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. “At my signal, I need you to push your door open, as hard and fast as you can. Can you do it?”
    Another nod. To her credit, she didn’t ask for an explanation. They were running out of time…
     
    A curse exploded from Pavel’s lips as the car slid back tight to the median, forcing him to throttle back or risk a collision. He didn’t dare lose time taking the Suzuki onto the turf.
    There was only one option left to them. Go up the passenger side. He tapped Grigori’s knee twice. Going in .
    He couldn’t hear the Glock slide out of the saddlebags behind him, but he knew it was there, in his partner’s hand.
    There: the man they had been sent to kill was behind the wheel, still relatively upright in his seat. The girl was nowhere to be seen, but undoubtedly she had taken cover. No matter.
    Pavel gunned the cycle, coming directly alongside the Impala. Time to end this.
     
    The roar of the Glock struck Harry’s ears almost simultaneously with the sound of shattering glass. He heard the bullet whine past his ear, exiting through the driver’s side window by his head.
    Time itself seemed to slow down as he glanced right, assuring himself one more time. All he saw was the cold black muzzle of the Glock staring back at him.
    “ Now! ”
     
    Pavel was steadying the bike, moving in closer so that his partner could get a better shot, when suddenly the door of the sedan flew outward, slamming against his left knee.
    The handlebars of the cycle twisted in his grip as the bike flew off course and off balance. Nearly blinded by pain, the ex- Spetsnaz paramilitary fought to regain control of the bike as it slid across two lanes of traffic. He saw the SUV in just enough time to scream…
     
    “You all right?” Harry asked, looking down to where Carol sat on the floorboards, the doorhandle still in her hand. He’d brought the Impala to a stop, pulled off to the side of the median.
    She nodded, seeming dazed by what had just occurred. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached out a hand. “Come on, come on. We have to go.”
    The Chevy Tahoe that had struck the assassins’ motorcycle had stopped by the side of the road. Traffic was starting to back up. With a backward glance to make sure Carol was following, Harry strode purposefully across the highway, alert for further danger. The Colt was in his right hand, ready for use.
    The driver of the Tahoe, a heavy-set, middle-aged woman, was already out of the vehicle, sobbing hysterically into her cellphone.
    “…they just came out of nowhere. I didn’t have time to—dear God, they may be dead.”
    “Ma’am,” Harry began, coming ‘round the front of the Tahoe, “I need you to shut off the phone.”
    Her eyes widened at the sight of the pistol gripped firmly in his hand and she started to speak to the 911 dispatcher on the other end of the line. With one smooth motion, Harry snatched the phone from her and flung it across the road.
    “What are you doing?” he heard Carol ask, but he ignored her, focusing in on the terrified woman before him. She was alone, he realized, scanning the seats of the SUV.
    “Ma’am, I’m a federal officer,” Harry continued, flipping open his wallet. The CIA identification card wasn’t as flashy as an FBI badge, but most people never noticed. “I need your vehicle.”
    “What’s going on?” she asked, her hand over her mouth. She kept backing away from him, fear clearly written in her eyes. “Who were those people?”
    “Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.