Free Behind the Badge by J.D. Cunegan

sight gave Jill the advantage of spotting the van from such a long distance. She had expected the van to keep on North, going westbound, but a sharp left took the vehicle onto Mt. Royal, and it was coming right toward her. Jill couldn't believe how fortuitous that was, considering there was no way she could've made it from the University of Baltimore to North Avenue on foot and been able to keep up with the van. Then again, Jill wondered if maybe this was too easy.
    But like Ramon once told her... gift horse, mouth.
     
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    When Jill saw the van pull out from behind a black Cadillac, swerving into the right lane, she dropped into a crouch. She had to time this perfectly; otherwise, she would either bounce off the vehicle's hood and wind up being run over by traffic behind, or she would miss the mark completely and possibly land in the middle of an intersection. Frankly, she didn't want another trip to the hospital… especially considering what happened the last time. Not only did her secret get out to more people than she wanted, but Jill also had someone attack her in her own hospital bed.
    Honestly, who tries to kill someone in a hospital?
    Mentally counting down from three, Jill leapt into the air at one . She landed on the roof of the speeding van with a dull thud , trying to maintain her balance when the vehicle swerved in response. As expected, her stunt got the driver's attention. Dropping to a knee, having an easier time balancing herself now that she had lowered her center of gravity, Jill pulled the katana from its sheath and pierced the sheet metal. She sliced through as best she could before using her free hand to pull the roof back like it was a sardine can.
    She found Colonel Downs on his back, his face bloodied. He was still alive, writhing in pain. Jill was just about to drop down into the back of the van when gunfire erupted from the front of the vehicle, tearing through the partition. Jill dropped herself until her chest was flat against the roof, her free hand latching onto the peeled-back sheet metal. None of the bullets hit Downs, and none of them came up her way. Instead, the rear double doors had been hit, now resembling swiss cheese.
    Once gunfire had been replaced with the click of an empty chamber, Jill hopped into the back of the van, crouching beside the colonel and checking his pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He groaned in response to the leather-clad fingers pressed into the side of his neck, his eyes little more than open slits as he lifted a hand to point toward what was left of the partition.
    Before Jill could turn around, one more gunshot burst through the partition. She ducked and covered Downs' body with her own, squeezing her eyes shut before realizing neither one of them had been hit. Even with that knowledge, Jill needed a few seconds to gather her bearings -- the sound of gunfire in such close proximity sending her back to a few months prior, when she had been chasing down a murder suspect downtown and wound up with a bullet in her gut. A bead of sweat rolled down Jill's temple, her dark hair splayed out over her face. Her heartbeat thundered away in her ears, and Jill gulped in a deep breath to calm herself. But another gunshot rang out, this one clearly a shotgun blast. The concussive force dislodged her sword from the roof, and it fell to the floor with a clang .
    Grabbing the weapon, and operating on pure adrenaline, Jill lunged toward the partition. She then reached through the hole the shotgun had torn through the metal, grabbing one of the masked figures by the neck and yanking them into the back of the van. She slammed the short man onto his back and pointed the tip of her blade at his throat.
    “Keep driving!” a female voice ordered, changing the clip on her pistol.
    “I'd re-think that,” Jill warned. “Unless you wanna hear this guy gag on his own blood.”
    “You wouldn't,” the driver said, never once tearing his gaze from the windshield. Though