Читать книгу Choke Point - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

James tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Um, Rafe?”

Encizo turned and saw the armed men through the front window of the car. “Uh-oh.”

Mazouzi was too busy yelling at his informant to realize they were in trouble. The keys were in the ignition so Encizo put the clutch to the floor, started the engine and got them in Reverse. He let out the clutch and took off with a squeal of tires, causing Mazouzi to curse.

“We have company,” James snapped as he pulled out his Beretta.

The armed men, four in all, fired semiautomatic handguns, but Encizo had put enough distance between the Peugeot and them. One shot hit the corner of the windshield, though, and spider-webbed across the passenger side, blocking James’ view.

As the Peugeot gained speed, James leaned out the window, leveling the pistol in his right hand on the nearest man, and squeezed off a double-tap, taking the intended target in the chest. But the jerky movement of the Peugeot pulled him back inside.

Encizo’s face was screwed up in concentration as he maneuvered along the narrow street. At one point, he sideswiped a parked vehicle, leaving behind a large gouge with the echo of scraping fiberglass and metal.

“What are you doing?” Mazouzi demanded.

“Saving your ass,” James replied. “I think.”