Chapter 5 - AMBUSH AT KILOMETER 34The fog rolling off the Pacific clung to the mountain pass like wet wool, reducing visibility to less than ten yards.
Teresa killed the Ford’s headlights, driving entirely by night-vision goggles she had salvaged from her old unit’s surplus locker. The truck crept down the winding descent toward Ameca without a single flicker of light, its tires hissing against the rain-slicked asphalt.
"Look out!" Valeria screamed, grabbing the dashboard.
Out of the milky fog, a massive gray semi-trailer truck loomed dead across both lanes, completely blocking the pass. Its hazard lights were flashing lazily, casting an eerie orange glow against the towering pine trees.
Teresa slammed on the brakes, throwing the Ford into a violent sideways skid that showered gravel across the cliffside drop.
"It's a roadblock," Teresa cursed, yanking the steering wheel hard to the left to squeeze past the semi’s front bumper on the narrow shoulder.
Too late.
From the mist behind the semi, two black SUVs roared into view, their high beams blindingly bright as they pinned the Ford against the rock wall. Four armed men in heavy tactical gear spilled out, their assault rifles raised, shouting in crisp, military-style Spanish.
"Out of the vehicle! Hands on your head! Do it now!"
"Mom, what do we do?" Valeria’s voice cracked with raw panic.
Teresa didn't answer. She reached down, slipped the safety off her service pistol, and smiled a cold, dangerous smile.
"We do what we always do when men with too much money think they own the road."
Teresa slammed the Ford into reverse, roaring backward at forty miles an hour right into the front grille of the nearest SUV with a sickening crunch of metal and shattering glass.
The impact threw the tactical operatives off balance. Before they could recover, Teresa threw the truck into drive, gunned the engine, and launched the Ford off the narrow shoulder, plunging down a steep, wooded embankment through the brush and sliding wildly toward the lower valley road.
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Bullets chewed through the truck’s rear window, showering them with safety glass, but the heavy pine thicket swallowed their descent.
They had broken through the first trap—but their vehicle was smoking, and the road to Ameca was now a war zone.
