Lazar's Intrigue (The Jack Lazar Series) (17 page)

SEVENTEEN

Jack
and Sarina arrived at Miami International Airport around four o’clock and
boarded the MIA Mover train to the car rental center. Another Cadillac CTS,
solid white this time, was waiting for them under the Hertz Gold canopy, the
engine running, the trunk open, and the air conditioner set on full blast.

Jack
looked toward Sarina as they tossed their luggage into the trunk. “Helluva
change in temperature, wouldn’t you say, Mrs. Lazar?”

“Hmm?”
she replied, apparently forgetting her new cover. “Oh yes,
honey
. And
the humidity makes it just terrible.” She giggled.

The
attendant looked at them awkwardly. “You two newlyweds?”

Jack
smiled. “Oh no. But people tell us we act that way all the time.”

“Well,
it’s always nice to see people like that,” he answered. “You folks need
directions?”

“We
know where we’re going, right, darling?” Sarina nodded her head, obviously
seeking Jack’s agreement with her eyes.

“Right.”

“Well,
okay,” the attendant answered. “There’s a map in the car just in case. You be
careful out there.”

“Will
do,” Jack replied.

Sarina
waited for the young man to turn his attention toward the next customer before
reaching back into the trunk and unzipping her suitcase. She extracted the
lockbox with her Colt .45 automatic, a handful of empty clips and a box of
Remington hollow point rounds.

“Are
we getting ready to knock off a liquor store or something?” Jack asked.

Sarina
laughed. “This is just a precaution, silly boy. I don’t think anyone knows
we’re here, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Besides, I’d like to get these
clips reloaded sooner rather than later.”

“Understood.”

“You
should get out your Beretta, too, and I’ll load it up while you drive.”

“I’m
curious,” Jack said as he started unzipping his bag. “Why do the airlines care
about loaded clips if the gun itself is unloaded and everything’s tucked away
in your checked luggage?”

“They
just don’t want people to have quick access to a loaded firearm, even outside
security. Just think about it. You can pop a loaded magazine into a handgun and
start shooting before anyone knows what’s going on. But if you’re sitting there
loading bullets into the magazine first, I think someone’s going to notice.”

“Makes
sense.”

“Okay,
let’s get all of this in the car and hit the road.”

Sarina
directed Jack to head north on Le Jeune Road toward Opa-Locka Airport, and they
drove for a few minutes in silence until Sarina looked up from her
weapons-loading task and noticed Jack constantly checking the rearview mirror.

“Okay,
what’s going on?” she asked, noticeably amused. “You don’t think someone’s
following us, do you?”

“Go
ahead and laugh, but there’s a red Impala back there about a hundred feet, and
he’s been doing pretty much everything we have.”

“Move
into the right lane and slow down.”

“Okay.”

He
did exactly that, and the Impala took no time to pass them by.

“See?”
She patted his leg.

Jack
smirked. “Sorry.”

They
both laughed this time, but were instantly silenced by a huge jolt followed by
the crashing of metal and glass behind them. Jack whipped his head around to
discover the Cadillac’s shattered rear window and glass strewn all over the backseat.

A
white Ford Crown Victoria barreled up behind them and once again smashed into
the Cadillac’s bumper, sending the rear end of the car to the right as Jack struggled
to keep it under control. Somehow he managed to get it back on track.

“Go
right!” Sarina yelled.

Jack
flung the steering wheel to the right at the next intersection, causing the
Cadillac to leap over the curb at the corner, but he quickly centered the car
and sped forward.

The
Crown Victoria attempted to follow, but it struck another car in the process
and plowed it into a UPS van parked on the side of the road. Jack could see in
his rearview mirror that the Crown Victoria had been delayed, but not for long
as it regained its pursuit and turned down the road behind them, its howling
engine at full bore.

The
stoplight turned red at the next cross street, but Jack floored the accelerator
as he found a break in traffic and pushed forward, the only hindrance being an
objecting horn or two.

But
the assailants followed with equal ease, and the pop of distant gunfire began as
the margin between the two cars decreased, the Cadillac’s entry level stock
engine offering no match for the assassins’ police-type cruiser.

Sarina
dropped the nine-millimeter clip she was loading for Jack and picked up her .45
from the floorboard. She fired through the missing rear window as the Crown
Victoria leapt left and right, making the target more difficult to lock in. She
unloaded a full clip without making any impact at all.

Jack
swerved left in front of an enormous gasoline truck as they turned down a
narrow street with rows of industrial buildings on either side, the Crown
Victoria falling momentarily behind as it painstakingly maneuvered around the
panic-stopped eighteen-wheeler.

“What
are you doing?” Sarina shouted as she slipped a second clip into the butt of
the gun and cocked it into place. “We can’t maneuver in here!”

“Neither
can they. So maybe you can hit something this time.” Jack didn’t mean to sound
sarcastic, but he did.

“Oh
yeah? You want to give it a try?”

“Just
shoot the motherfuckers. Please!”

The
assailants had rounded the corner and were gaining on them again as Sarina
aimed carefully toward the front of the Crown Victoria’s engine compartment. She
waited patiently for the vehicle to move into the perfect position and fired a
single shot.

It
was a clear hit, and huge billows of steam shot from the front of the car, its
radiator clearly pierced by the powerful bullet. But the glimpse of victory was
just momentary as the men maintained their relentless pursuit despite the
damage, and they continued to gain ground.

“Oh
for chrissake! A helicopter!” Sarina screamed, pointing up toward the high
artillery bird hovering above them. “What the fuck is going on here?”

The
sounds of whirring bullets and shredding metal filled the air as automatic
weapon fire was added from above, and the formerly pristine Cadillac was being
torn to pieces. The mirrors and windows shattered instantly, and the skin of
the car was rendered almost beyond recognition. The noise was loud and terrible
and overwhelming, and Jack felt certain they would be dead any second.

Jack
recoiled in his seat as a bullet grazed his arm and tore at his shirt, his
flesh stinging as the blood oozed out. He looked to Sarina and noticed that she
had been hit squarely in the upper leg, his injury now seeming trivial by
comparison. But she failed to even flinch and concentrated instead on
discharging every round in her possession at the adversaries in both
directions, refusing to submit to the despicable odds.

The
hood of the Crown Victoria suddenly launched into the air with sparks trailing
underneath as the engine blew a piston through its upper end. The car spun out
of control until it slammed into a rusty trash Dumpster, stranding the two land-bound
assailants behind in a cloud of smoke.

But
the helicopter was still in play, and its side-mounted guns continued to fire. The
noise from the spattering of bullets was terrifying, but at least the buildings
on either side of the narrow roadway prevented the flying beast from acquiring
a solid trajectory.

Jack
and Sarina approached a dead end as the chopper abandoned its flank approach
and began circling to the rear for a final kill, no doubt anticipating the
Cadillac’s impending entrapment. Jack stood on the brakes, screeching the car
to a halt and turning it sideways at the wall. A locked iron gate stood in
front of them, and it appeared to be the only escape route.

“I
told you this was a bad idea!” Sarina exclaimed.

“Just
shut up and hold on!”

The
bullets butchered the ground only a few feet away as Jack floored the Cadillac
and smashed it into the gate, casting it to the side as the car forced its way
through, a cascade of bullets mangling the trunk and tearing through the left
rear tire.

“Shit!”
Jack shouted as the car now lumbered forward, its injured wheel flopping
uselessly along the pavement. “Now we’re totally screwed!”

“Pull
in there!” Sarina yelled as she pointed to an open service stall at the gas
station in front of them.

Jack
steered the Cadillac toward the empty bay as people in and around the station scattered
like roaches revealed by a kitchen light. He proceeded forward until smacking
the inside wall on the opposite end, and the car came to a sudden halt.

Sarina
scooped the used clips from the floorboard into her purse before she leapt from
the car and moved to the far corner of the garage.

Jack
grabbed the Beretta from the passenger floorboard and his briefcase from the
back seat before following her.

Sarina
looked at him as if he was crazy. “Your briefcase? Really?”

“There’s
over ten thousand dollars in here, and we’re going to need it since my credit
cards are apparently useless now.”

She
tilted her head in respect. “Okay.”

They
remained in the corner of the garage, protected for the moment by concrete block
walls as the deep rumble of the helicopter’s blades returned, and the pilot
began firing again. The sound was deafening as the bullets shattered the
windows and tore at the metal parts of the building.

Jack
glanced downward and noticed the blood flowing down Sarina’s leg. She didn’t
seem concerned about it, but he knew she was losing too much blood to keep
going. Adrenaline was probably the only thing fueling her now. He saw a bag of
shop towels on the tool bench next to him and grabbed a couple, quickly
twisting them into a long rope of cloth.

“We
can’t stay here,” Sarina announced. “As soon as we hear him fly to the other
side of the building, we need to make a break for it.”

“Not
until we stop the bleeding from your leg.” Jack knelt beside her and began
tying the shop towels above the wound. “God, this looks bad.”

Sarina
looked down at him as he tended to her, and she smiled. “I’ve got to stop
hanging around with you. Seems like you always get me shot.”

Jack
stood up. “Bullshit. If you remember correctly, I’m the one who keeps saving
your ass when you get shot. Besides, I have a feeling people would be shooting
at you no matter what. You seem pretty good at scurrying up all sorts of chaos.”

“Thanks,”
she answered sarcastically. “What about your shoulder? Looks pretty bad.”

“The
bullet just grazed me, so I’ll be fine. Let’s just concentrate on getting out
of here.”

“Good.”
She turned her head to listen for the helicopter’s position. “If we could just
create some sort of distraction.”

“I
have an idea.” Jack moved to the driver’s side of the car parked in the service
bay next to them and opened the door. He climbed inside and started the engine
before climbing back out and closing the door behind him.

“Okay,”
he said, planning out loud. “I’m going to put this thing in reverse and let it
roll out of the garage. He’ll probably start shooting at it right away,
thinking we’re trying to use the car to escape. That should put him into a good
trajectory for you to take him out. I hope. Just step through the side door
over there when he moves into position.”

Sarina
smiled at him, nodding. “I like it.” She limped to the opposite end of the
garage and took her position. “Any time you’re ready, baby.”

Smirking
in appreciation of her attitude, he reached through the window and shifted the
transmission into reverse. The car lurched backward so quickly that Jack was
barely able to pull out his arm before being dragged outside.

As
he predicted, the chopper swooped into position and hovered just a few feet
above the ground as it began to fire, the craft’s open side doors oriented
perfectly toward Sarina’s location, providing her with a clear shot to the
pilot.

She
stepped into the open and took her stance as if firing her gun on the shooting
range, her feet lined up perfectly underneath her shoulders, the gun properly
cradled in her hands, her right arm almost fully extended.

An
instant before she could fire the first shot, Jack saw the pilot’s face turn
toward her, and it was clear he recognized the trap he had fallen into. His
eyes widened with fear, but Sarina didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, and she
expelled one round after another until the clip was emptied, the chamber
smoking, the empty shells scattered on the ground beneath her. She left nothing
to chance, and there was no doubt she had hit her mark as the pilot’s lifeless
body draped over the console and the entire craft began to spin out of control.
Its tail struck tree tops and phone lines at the edge of the property like an
airborne beast having a violent seizure, and sparks flew everywhere.