Chapter 2 - Ambush on Interstate 93
“Hold on,” Raphael commanded, his voice dropping an octave as he slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
The Mercedes surged forward, throwing Josephine back against her seat with a sharp gasp. The trailing vehicle didn't just follow; it hunted. It cut across the empty middle lane, its engine roaring like a caged beast as it pulled parallel to them in the dark.
“Mr. Orsini, what is that?” Josephine cried out, gripping the door handle.
“Vance’s clean-up crew,” Raphael muttered coldly, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
Last week, Raphael had shipped encrypted financial evidence implicating the upper echelons of the North Eastern syndicate to a federal contact. The men who profited from that blood money knew Raphael rarely left his fortress unguarded. Tonight, he had driven right out into the open with a terrified maid and zero tactical backup.
A blinding flash erupted from the passenger window of the trailing sedan.
Bang! Bang!
Bullets chewed through the rear quarter-panel of the Mercedes, shattering the back glass into a cascade of sparkling diamond fragments across the cabin. Josephine screamed, instinctively throwing her hands over her head and curling into a tight ball beneath the glove compartment.
Raphael didn't flinch. Years of surviving turf wars had turned his reflexes into pure steel. With one hand expertly maintaining control of the speeding car, his other hand pulled a sleek, suppressed Sig Sauer from his jacket holster. Rolling down his driver-side window just enough, he fired three calculated shots back through the rushing wind.
A sharp screech of burning rubber and tortured metal echoed behind them as the pursuing car veered wildly across the lanes, spinning out of control before slamming violently head-on into a concrete highway barrier.
Raphael eased his foot off the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror as the smoking wreck shrank into the distance. He looked down at the floorboard.
“Are you hit?” he asked, his voice tight.
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Slowly, Josephine uncurled herself, shaking glass out of her dark hair. Her eyes were wide with sheer terror, but as she looked up at him, the fear was eclipsed by a sudden, jarring realization.
“They weren't trying to carjack us,” she whispered, her voice trembling violently. “They were trying to stop me.”
