Ellie heard the sound of an engine behind them. Milton reached out and put his arm across her chest just before the Chevrolet was struck from behind by the Toyota, bulldozing the vehicle down the road. They were jerked forward again, the belt cutting into Ellie’s shoulder, Rhames bouncing into the back of her chair. She heard the jangle of shattering glass and metal as the car was twisted and crumpled and bent.

The Chevy came to a stop.

“You okay?” Milton asked her.

“I think so.”

He looked around her and out of the window. “They’re going to hit us now,” he said calmly. “Do what they say. Do exactly what they say.”

88

Björn yanked his balaclava down, pulled his pistol, opened the door and stepped outside. Ten and Eleven took their shotguns and did the same. The Chevrolet had been shoved forward and to the side by the impact from Six’s Toyota. A horn—either the Chevrolet’s or the Toyota’s, it was hard to say—droned out.

The driver of the Chevrolet was stunned. Ten levelled her shotgun at the windshield, covering him.

Eleven went left.

Björn went right.

Six approached from the rear.

The Duster was two hundred yards behind them, boxed behind the minivan. Björn could see Two and Eight on either side of that vehicle, their weapons trained on the occupants, keeping them inside.

Björn reached the passenger-side door and looked inside. The driver had shaken off his grogginess and had seen Ten’s shotgun. He had his hands up. Björn moved down the SUV and opened the rear door at the same time as Eleven opened its opposite. They both aimed their weapons inside. Björn scanned the interior quickly: the woman Weaver had identified as a possible federal agent was in the middle row, closest to Eleven; John Smith was beside her, closest to Björn; a man who looked like a soldier and an unconscious La Bruja were in the rearmost row.

“You,” Björn said to Smith. “Out.”

Eleven was busy on the other side. He pointed to the soldier. “Bring the woman out.”

“No,” the soldier said. “I’m not doing that.”

They had expected resistance and had discussed how to get around it. Eleven reached into the cabin, grabbed the federal agent by the lapels and hauled her out of her seat. He dumped her onto the asphalt, took a step back and aimed the shotgun down.

“Bring her out now or I’ll shoot her. And then I’ll shoot you.”

* * *