Chapter 23

The two assets followed his predicted route, now entering the on-ramp of the Naberezhne Highway and heading in a northerly direction. The Jetta’s engine strained as David pushed it hard to catch up to them, using one hand to fasten his seatbelt and make it snug.

He knew which one to follow of the two, and weaving in and out of flowing traffic, he slowly gained on him. The second one, realizing that they were being chased, acted as a blocker, moving either right or left to impede David’s advance.

David outmanoeuvred the second one, pulling alongside the first one. He steered right, causing the other car to sideswipe another car and fall back.

He lowered his window, the wind buffeting his lengthened hair. He pointed his Baretta out the window and fired two quick shots. He didn’t know if he hit the car, but the second caused a spark on the pavement by the rear bumper. He crept closer, able to nudge the bumper.

His heart was pumping pure adrenaline as the speedometer passed 150 kph. Car horns blared as these two maniacs raced along the highway. There was a break in the three-lane traffic, and David pulled alongside his foe. He lowered the passenger window again, particles of dust whipped up by the swirling air peppering his face.

His enemy did the same, and David had to suddenly brake as he pointed his pistol at him. He heard the thwack of a bullet against the passenger door pillar.

David was startled by the thunk of a bullet entering the rear window and lodging in the headrest by his right ear. A second shot passed through the back of his seat, nudging his vest. The second foe had caught up to him.

The lead car cut him off, passing a slower car and forcing him onto the paved shoulder. He was mere inches from the concrete highway divider. He moved right, back onto the left lane. The driver nudged the left rear of the car in front of him, making it spin out of control to the left.

David had to steer hard left to avoid a certain collision. His saving grace was that the opposing traffic was now separated by a grassed median. He held on tight to the steering wheel as the Jetta bounced over the uneven frozen ground. The Jetta seemed like a plow, passing through recent fallen snow.

He was now in the southbound lane, driving north. Car horns blared and traffic weaved to avoid a collision with this maniac going the wrong way on the highway. David’s eyes were going from the traffic ahead to his foe on the other highway. His enemy was darting in and out of different lanes as he sped by slower cars.

David noticed the grassy divider was narrowing to be replaced by cement dividers. He steered at an angle onto the grassy median. The Jetta was briefly airborne as the right front wheel caught a hole in the ground. A shower of sparks from under the Jetta marked its return to the proper highway.

David pressed hard on the gas pedal, keeping him in sight. The front suspension or steering was damaged, crossing the median, as the steering wheel now had a noticeable vibration in it.

He was gaining on the front one when the Jetta was hit from behind. David lost control, hitting the first one as the three cars did a series of full spins. The momentum of the force caused both to lose their weapons, falling onto the passenger floor.

The rear car spun out, colliding with another car. The Jetta and the first car were only inches from each other. David was momentarily stunned by the haphazard collisions as they came to a stop. Running from his car, the second assailant fired his weapon at David, shattering the passenger’s rear window. The driver had to unlock the door for his companion, and David used the distraction to pull on his necklace, breaking the chain and tossing it into the other car.

The following traffic had come to a stop as a result of the three-car collision. Surely someone has called 112 to report all the mayhem taking place on the highway.

“It looks like the asset is now chasing Bourne,” the drone operator commented as the chase resumed.

David had done a quick U-turn and tried to put the accelerator pedal through the floor as he sped to catch the other car. He felt like a crazy driver in the Middle East, one hand on the horn as he weaved in and out of traffic.

Director Lee paced back and forth, watching the two black sedans on the series of large screens. “Stay locked on that homing device! I don’t care who kills Bourne as long as he’s dead!”

He was catching up to the car and had to be mindful that the other asset didn’t peer back and fire at him. He saw the brake lights on the car doing a hard slowdown from highway speed, exiting right, and taking the road. The Jetta braked past the anti-lock system, leaving streaks of rubber; otherwise, David would have missed the exit.

He followed the curve of the ramp at high speed, being pressed against the door. The road became a bridge over the Dnipro River. On the downhill slope, he saw the car brake and turn left. He did the same only seconds later.

The one-lane road was more of a pedestrian path, and he followed it, noticing the placard, Central Beach. The asset’s car came to a stop, mired in the soft beach sand. David unfastened his seat belt, grabbed his Beretta, and, met by a hail of bullets, went to the ground. He could hear the constant ding, whack, and thwack of bullets penetrating the passenger side.

About fifty yards further on was a helicopter with its motor running. It was the quick escape the two would-be assailants were meeting. Its landing lights cast an eerie glow over the car, with fine sand swirling from the rotor’s spin. He opened the back door, took out the Kel-Tec Sub 2000, and cocked the action. He saw the two make a run for the helicopter, and his rapid firing forced them back behind the car.

David felt beach sand pepper his leg, then the sting of a bullet grazed his left calf. He heard the helicopter’s engine rev up, and he fired a series of shots at the men for cover, then several well-aimed shots at the helicopter.