Chapter 6 - Fire on the Desert Highway
The heavy engine of the Ford Raptor roared as Valeria pushed the truck past 110 miles per hour, but the three pursuing armored vehicles were high-performance pursuit trucks equipped with military-grade superchargers.
"Victor! Take the rear window port!" Valeria commanded, hitting a control on the overhead panel. The reinforced rear glass window slid down four inches, exposing a narrow firing slot.
Victor scrambled into the back seat beside Mariana and Sophie, shoving a high-powered rifle barrel through the slot.
"Mariana, keep her down on the floorboards!" Victor ordered, racking the bolt. "Don't let her look up!"
Mariana pushed Sophie down into the footwell under the front passenger seat, covering the little girl’s body with her own. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, holding her stuffed rabbit, her hands locked onto Mariana’s boots.
Even with her hearing aid, the terrifying roar of the wind and the high-speed vibrations of the chassis were overwhelming. But Sophie didn't cry. She focused all her sensory energy into feeling the movement of the vehicle—the tilt of the frame, the sudden shifts in weight.
THUD!
The lead pursuit truck rammed into the rear bumper of the Raptor, sending a bone-jarring shockwave through the vehicle. Mariana screamed as the Raptor fishtailed dangerously across the empty two-lane desert highway.
"Valeria! Hold it straight!" Victor yelled, opening fire through the rear slot.
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
The heavy armor-piercing rounds struck the windshield of the lead pursuit truck, but the glass was reinforced bulletproof polycarbonate. Sparks flew, spider-webbing the glass, but the truck didn't slow down.
"They've got heavy armor!" Victor barked. "Standard rounds aren't penetrating!"
"Use the road!" Valeria shouted back, swerving the Raptor into the oncoming lane as a spray of automatic fire from the second pursuit vehicle chewed through their side mirrors. "We're five miles from the Rio Grande bridge check-point! If we make it to the border wall, Mateo’s perimeter patrols will see the fight!"
From the footwell, Sophie suddenly reached up and grabbed Mariana’s pant leg. She yanked it hard, pulling Mariana down closer.
Sophie pointed furiously at the right side of the truck's floorboard.
She tapped three times, then made a sweeping motion with her arm, pointing toward the front right wheel.
Right side... heavy weight shifting... trap!
"Mariana! What is she saying?!" Valeria yelled over the roar of gunfire.
"She says the right side! Something heavy is coming from the right!" Mariana screamed back.
Valeria didn't hesitate. She trusted the child’s incredible sensory perception implicitly now. Instead of turning right to hit the highway off-ramp as she had planned, Valeria slammed her foot on the brakes and hard-cranked the steering wheel to the left.
A split second later, a third pursuit truck—which had been running dark through the off-road desert brush alongside them—leaped over the roadside ditch, sweeping through the exact spot the Raptor would have been if Valeria hadn't swerved.
"HOLY SHIT!" Victor roared as the enemy truck overshot them, flipped violently twice across the asphalt, and exploded into a massive fireball that lit up the Texas night sky.
"Good call, kiddo!" Valeria laughed grimly, stomping back down on the accelerator.
The remaining two pursuit trucks pushed through the flaming debris of their ally's crash, continuing the relentless chase. The lead truck pulled alongside the Raptor’s driver side, a gunman leaning out of the passenger window with a heavy shotgun aimed directly at Valeria’s head.
"VALERIA! DOWN!" Victor screamed.
Before Victor could aim, a blinding spotlight flooded the highway from the sky above.
WOOSH-WOOSH-WOOSH-WOOSH!
The thumping roar of heavy helicopter rotors rattled the air. A massive military-grade Blackhawk helicopter descended out of the dark clouds, hovering thirty feet above the highway, its searchlight locking onto the two remaining mercenary vehicles.
Over a loudspeaker, a harsh, gravelly voice echoed across the desert with terrifying authority:
"THIS IS MATEO MONTENEGRO. YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON MY BORDER. DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR BE PULVERIZED."
The mercenaries in the pursuit truck panicked, slamming on their brakes and attempting a desperate U-turn on the narrow highway.
It was too late.
A side-mounted heavy machine gun on the Blackhawk roared to life. A stream of tracer rounds tore into the asphalt, shredding the two mercenary trucks into twisted, burning heaps of metal in less than five seconds.
The Blackhawk hovered low, its landing gear almost touching the highway asphalt, kicking up a massive storm of dust and tumbleweeds.
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The side door of the helicopter slid open. A towering man stepped out, wearing a tactical leather jacket, tailored trousers, and dark combat boots. His face was cold, sharp, and possessed the exact same piercing dark eyes as the late Leon Montenegro.
Mateo Montenegro had arrived.
