Additional projectiles whizzed by their accelerating getaway vehicle, and as soon as they exited the Suez Shipping Company’s grounds, Rabia yanked on the steering wheel, sending the pair right — to the north. Zahra half-expected to see her compatriots further up the road, or at the very least, the remnants of their own escape. But there were no turned-over vehicles or fires. No innocent bystanders huddled for cover. The way was clear except for the humdrum local traffic — of which Rabia zigged and zagged through like a seasoned pro.

Rabia hit the steering wheel. “They didn’t come this way,” she muttered. She shook her head, glancing in her mirrors.

“How do you know?” Zahra asked, looking in the side mirror just outside her window.

“Because…” Rabia’s eyes flicked to Zahra. “There would be much more commotion than there is.”

“Where’d they go, then?”

Rabia thumbed over her shoulder. “South. Ali likes the southern route — thinks it’s quicker.” The sniper shook her head. “But he knows it’s foolish this time of day.”

“Why do you say that?” Zahra asked, grabbing at the overhead handle.

Rabia smashed her palm down on the steering wheel, blaring the white SUV’s horn. She even went as far as nudging the car in front of them with the front fender, coaxing it to move out of the way after two such love taps. With an opening directly ahead of them, Rabia applied more pressure to the gas pedal, and they sped away.

“Yes,” she replied, “there are fewer traffic signals to the south, but there’s also more congestion there too.” Rabia tapped the brakes before zooming through a red light. “I don’t plan on abiding to those signals.”

It all meant that Cork and Ali were going to, more than likely, get in a trickling logjam of afternoon drivers.

“We have company,” Rabia said, gazing into the rearview mirror.

Zahra spun in her seat and watched as a trio of black sedans came screaming up the street behind them. Besides announcing their arrival, Rabia didn’t look all that concerned about the prospects of being in a car chase. She was fixated on the immediate here and now — the road ahead and other cars.

Zahra got an awful idea.

“Wreck the other cars.” Rabia pulled her eyes away from the road and stared Zahra down. “It’ll buy us some time. Just…don’t kill anyone, if you can help it.”

Rabia rolled her eyes and sped up. She poked at the rear bumper of the pickup in front of them. It wobbled but didn’t spin out. Rabia gritted her teeth and slid left, pulling forward some. Then, she gently spun the wheel right and bumped the left rear quarter panel of the truck. The force was enough to make the driver panic and overcorrect as the vehicle’s rear wheels jerked to the side.

The sniper backed off and veered right, missing the swerving pickup by inches. It nicked a neighboring minivan, which caused every other automobile on the roadway to slam on their brakes. Three or four of them ended up being involved in a fender-bender, but the plan had worked. Zahra and Rabia’s pursuers were stuck at the back of the pack.

That was…until one of them went left and mounted the sidewalk. Zahra watched in horror as bodies were launched skyward. The car responsible just plowed straight through the pedestrians with no regard for their safety.

Bastards!

And it was Zahra’s fault.

She growled and climbed into the backseat of the SUV, dragging her AK-103 with her. Zahra planted her left knee into the seat cushion, loaded in a fresh thirty-round magazine, and took a deep breath.

She lowered the window. “Let this one get in close.”

Rabia didn’t argue. The SUV slowed, allowing the lead sedan to do as Zahra had wanted. It dismounted the concrete sidewalk and got in close.

As it did, Rabia banked right and allowed it to pull up alongside their left flank. Once its front wheels were even with their back wheels, Zahra made her move. She stabbed the barrel of her rifle out the window and took aim at the driver. He was the first to die. Between him and his two passengers, Zahra unloaded the weapon’s entire thirty-round payload. She was satisfied to watch the bullet-riddled, blood-splattered sedan list to the left, cross four lanes of traffic, and careen into a telephone pole.

Zahra took a second to catch her breath before fully re-entering the SUV. She plopped in the rear seat and let the empty, smoking rifle fall to the floorboards, settling in next to Rabia’s large-caliber variant. It took her a moment to realize that Rabia was eyeing her, using the rearview mirror to spy on her.

“What?” Zahra asked, annoyed by the attention.

“I like you.”

“Thanks…” she replied. “But — and don’t take this the wrong way — that doesn’t make me feel better.”

Rabia shrugged. “You do what has to be done, no matter the cost.”

That?” Zahra asked. “That was nothing more than petty revenge! I wanted to pay them back for what they did to those people back there.”

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