Chapter 6 - Shadows Behind the Tint
Nathan turned the key.
The seven-liter V8 engine roared to life with a ferocious, window-rattling snarl that drowned out the estate sirens. Nathan dropped the transmission into reverse, stomped on the throttle, and let the clutch fly.
The heavy steel garage doors blew outward in a shower of splintered wood and twisted aluminum tracks as the Shelby rocketed into the back turnaround.
Shouts erupted across the grounds. Two armed men near the swimming pool raised automatic carbines, their muzzle flashes illuminating the morning mist. Bullets struck the Shelby’s trunk lid and shattered the rear windshield, raining tempered glass across the back seats.
Nathan ducked low, shifted hard into first gear, and ripped the wheel toward the perimeter service path. The rear tires smoked, biting into the dirt track, and catapulted the muscle car forward.
Ahead lay the estate’s secondary perimeter gate—a decorative wrought-iron barrier installed forty years ago. Nathan didn't brake. He accelerated through second gear, hitting forty-five miles per hour as the front bumper slammed into the center latch.
The iron gate snapped with an ear-splitting shriek of sheared metal, folding like foil under the Shelby’s reinforced front bumper. Nathan fishtailed onto Mountain Drive, counter-steered with calm precision, and hammered the gas toward the coastal highway.
In his rearview mirror, the black SUV leaped through the wreckage of the gate, its headlights flashing with ferocious intent.
Nathan grabbed his cell phone, hitting Frank Keller’s direct line via the speakerphone rattling on the passenger seat.
"Whitaker!" Frank answered immediately. "I have Elena and the boy. They're secured in my transport. Where are you?"
"I have a tail," Nathan roared over the thunder of the unmuffled exhaust. "Black Chevy Suburban, heavily armored, at least three shooters. They're pushing me north along the ridge."
"That road leads directly to the Bradbury Reservoir," Frank yelled over the receiver. "Whitaker, that's where they want you! That's the kill zone!"
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"I know," Nathan said, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel as the vintage sports car tore through the hairpin mountain turns. "They prepared the stage for my death. It’s time to show them what happens when the corpse fights back."
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