The black Audis slam into reverse, trying to run over Andrew as he stands in place, pointing the gun in his hand at the back of the Audi closest to him. Diving out of the way of the car, he’s as helpless as I am.
None of us can take a shot without risking hitting Meghan or the police opening up fire on us.
“God-fucking-dammit. For fucking shit’s sake, get this shit straightened,” I shout into my comms mic.
“I’m working on it right now. Do as they say for now,” Simon hisses.
“Chief’s dead, confirming it now. Same with Brady. Both have fatal shots to the head,” Andrew says over the comms.
I can see him from my view, but not what’s on the ground as the Audis tear away from us. Both heading away at a breakneck speed. One of the patrol officers starts shouting into the mic, but neither of them try to take off after the fleeing pricks.
Fucking hell, this is just getting worse.
I can’t hear what one of the officers is shouting into his radio, but I do understand what the other one is saying when he tells me to kneel down on the asphalt.
My back may be to him, but he knows better than to have me turn around on them. I’m a big guy, there’s no way of knowing if I’ve got a gun in my waistband up front or if I’d smash their fucking heads in.
“Get the fuck down on the ground,” the pig yells at me.
Shouting over my shoulder at him, I say, “The fuck I will, asshole. Go after the guys who started shooting people!”
That quiver in the officer’s voice is gone now that he saw me drop the rifle.
“Kneel on the fucking ground and put your hands behind your head, asshole! I’m going to fucking taze you if you don’t do it now.”
Turning my head to the side so I can get a good look at him, I say loud enough for him to hear, “You taze me, boy, and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”
“Kneel down and take the cuffs, Gabriel,” Lucifer says into the comms.
“Fuck you,” I growl back at him.
“Take the fucking cuffs now! They’ll be told to release you soon,” Lucifer orders.
“I told you I’m not going back to a cell, Matthew,” I say quietly.
For the first time in my life, Lucifer sounds worried. “I’ve already promised you won’t.”
Simon breaks through before I have a chance to respond. “The Highway Patrol have a car close to the Audis, for now they are in pursuit. But it’s only one car at the moment.”
“Good,” Lucifer says through our earbuds.
The officer not giving me orders is taking a wide berth as he draws his gun, aiming at both Johnathan and Andrew. Both men are already lowering their pistols to the ground as the original officer from Garden City starts yelling at them to kneel down on the ground.
“They got us, boss. We could shoot our way out, but I’m not sure if we’d could get away without taking a loss,” Andrew spits into the mic of our comms.
Fuck.
Slowly dropping to my knees, I say over the comms, “Do what they say. We’ll go after the Russians as soon as Simon can get us out of this.”
“I’m putting a call into the Governor’s office right now. Give me a few minutes. They’ll have to have extra cars and men there before they can haul you away. We’ll have enough time to get you free,” Simon says.
“I’m about a minute away from the scene. There isn’t a lot of traffic right now, but you guys will be causing a backup soon enough,” James says over the comms.
“Do not stop. We need to get someone after the Russians,” Lucifer says.
“What about the Chief? Who the fuck killed him?” James asks, and I can hear a hint of something but I don’t know what in his voice.
“Not our immediate concern. All we know is that it was one of the Russians,” Simon says.
The officer who’s been shouting at me the whole fucking time strides up behind me. I can feel the barrel of his gun not quite touching the back of my head. It’s got my hackles raising pretty damn fast. He’s damn lucky I don’t turn around and snatch that gun from his hands and beat him with it.
“Lace your fingers behind your head, dickhead,” the officer spits out at me.
I slowly raise my hands behind my head as I look over my shoulder and say, “I bet you you’ll be taking this cuffs off me within the next five minutes.”
He grabs my right arm and slaps a cuff as tight as he can around my thick wrist.
Pulling my left wrist down, he says, “Shut the fuck up before I shove my gun down your throat.”