The directions from the helicopter had done the trick; we were within sight of the Rolls Royce.
Not that it did us any good, other than to follow them wherever they were headed.
The Rolls was probably bulletproofed, just like our Mercedes –
But even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk taking a shot that might hit Bianca.
And I couldn’t try to shoot out a tire. At the speed we were going, the car might flip.
Massimo knew it, too, which is why he didn’t badger me about shooting them.
Instead he asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Get closer,” I growled.
Just let her be okay, God – please – just let her be okay –
