She kept at it, straining until her neck muscles were on the verge of giving out and the skin felt like it was being torn from her cheeks. Then just let her body go slack. There was no way out. She’d killed them.

Randi didn’t know how long she drifted like that, thinking about Jon and Klein. About her dead husband and Ueno. The traffic didn’t get any better and the gentle rocking kept pulling her further into oblivion.

The car stopped again, but this time there was a deafening crash and she was thrown violently to the side. The trunk lid bent outward enough to let in a little light and she rammed her knees into it, trying to get it to open the rest of the way. The latch held, but flexed enough to give her hope.

Randi had pulled back for another try when the gunfire started—controlled bursts from three, maybe four separate automatic weapons. She tensed, but none of the rounds sounded like they were hitting metal. Just glass and flesh.

After only a few seconds the guns went silent and all she could hear was the revving of motors and the crumpling of bodywork as people tried to escape on the packed road.

A steel bar slid into the gap in the trunk near her feet and another appeared above her head. A moment later the lid had been pried open and she was squinting at a Japanese man with a straight razor in his hand.

She tried unsuccessfully to dodge when he swung it at her, but instead of going for her throat, he cut her loose from Jon. After a few more deft waves of his blade, she was free enough to pull herself out of the trunk under her own power. He pointed to an SUV stopped near the overturned delivery truck that was backing up traffic, but she refused to move until he’d pulled Jon from the trunk and was carrying him toward the waiting vehicle.

Through the windshields of the cars blocked in around them, she could see that most people were just staring at her in horror. A few others were shaking their phones in frustration as they tried to film the scene. She counted three men still standing, all sweeping MP5s smoothly back and forth, searching for targets. The four men who were in the car she’d been trapped in were all dead. None had even managed to get his door open before taking multiple shots to the head.