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Vi twisted in the seat and looked at all their equipment stacked in the back. “Did they throw in the thermal imaging camera?”

“I think so.”

Vi unlatched her seat belt and climbed partially between the seats. Once she found the camera, she sank back into the driver’s seat and put it to her eye. “I only see just the one.” She shoved it at her sister. “Hold onto that.”

“He’s looking in our direction,” Indie warned. “We’ve been spotted.”

“Well, yeah. There probably isn’t a bunch of traffic in this area normally. And even if there was, this vehicle doesn’t blend in.”

“No shit. But, look, he’s headed our way.”

Vi watched the man closely. No thermal imaging was needed to see him striding through the dark. She locked the doors, making it an impenetrable fortress, and quickly put the Terradyne into gear.

She pulled in a long breath, tightened her fingers around the steering wheel, and mumbled, “There’s a reason why you cost a fuckton. Let’s show them why.” As soon as a gun appeared in the man’s hand, he lifted his arm, pointing it straight at them. “Hold on!”

She smashed her foot against the accelerator, jumped the curb, and aimed the mini-tank toward the guard. “Fuck this place and fuck him.”

Loud pings could be heard as the bullets struck but didn’t penetrate the exterior.

“Gun it!” Indie shouted, hanging on tightly as Vi did so.

She pointed the front of the vehicle directly at the gunman and, even in the dead of night, could see the whites of the man’s eyes as soon as he realized: one, his bullets weren’t doing shit, and two, he was about to be splattered like roadkill.

Before he could dive out of the way, Vi slammed into him at full speed, launching the man over the hood with his limbs extended like a damn starfish. He hit the windshield hard and when she slammed on the brakes, he flew forward, hitting the ground even harder.

That had to hurt.

Oh well.

“Holy shit,” Indie breathed. “Good thing the windshield is bulletproof. Otherwise, he’d be riding shotgun.”

Good thing. Otherwise, they’d both be dead. “Or on your lap.”

“Think he’s dead?” Indie asked when the man didn’t move.

He could be playing possum.

“If he’s not, he will be. He wanted to kill us, so fuck him, fuck the Chens, and fuck this whole place.” Vi stomped on the pedal again. Of course between the weight and size of the vehicle, it wasn’t very responsive. Unlike when she hit the gas on her father’s classic GTO.

That V-8 muscle car was also a beast, but in a completely different way.

She aimed the front tire and both she and Indie bounced like fuck as she ran over the human speed bump.

“Damn, sis, you just smashed his head like a watermelon,” she said in awe, glancing in the side mirror.

“I didn’t want him to suffer.”

A laugh-snort burst from her sister. “Now what?”

“Where inside the building is he?”

“As long as this is accurate, the tracker is giving off a signal in the back east corner.”

Vi’s only response was a nod. Whatever she did next, she needed to make sure it didn’t hurt Reaper. Because what she was about to do next would hurt someone.

Hopefully a few someones.

Without moving her eyes from the building so she could keep an eye out for any additional guards, she asked, “Did they pack the Desert Eagle?”