“On it, boss,” his voice crackled back.

A volley of gunfire chipped at the reinforced glass of my windshield, spiderwebbing the outer layer but failing to penetrate.

I pushed the accelerator down.

The heavy bumper of my SUV slammed into the front fender of the armored truck with a deafening crunch of steel.

The impact jarred my teeth, but the armored truck shifted just enough.

I squeezed through the gap, the side panels of my vehicle scraping against the metal with a shower of sparks.

Behind us, Marco’s vehicle fired a flashbang grenade, blinding the shooters in the fog.

I did not look back.

I pressed hard on the gas, heading straight toward the secondary coordinates I had memorized.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, looking at the mirror.

Lily shook her head, her eyes wide but dry.

Owen kept his face buried in the worn fabric of his bear.

“Good,” I said. “We are almost there.”

Ten minutes later, the lights of a secure federal facility appeared through the mist.

It was a drab, concrete building surrounded by high chain-link fences topped with razor wire.