“We got a shooter,” I snarled.
“I see him,” Massimo said.
A guy had appeared out of the sunroof on the Rolls.
In his hands was an Uzi –
Which he started firing at us.
The muzzle flashes lit up against the dark sky –
And bullets slammed into the windshield and hood of our car.
Ping ping ping ping ping!
The windshield cracked but didn’t break.
“FUCK,” Massimo swore, but he stayed the course.
I suddenly realized we were gaining on the Rolls at a faster rate.
Having the sunroof retracted must have made the car less aerodynamic and slowed it down.
“Get as close as you can,” I said. “Bumper to bumper if possible. When he reloads, I’ll open my window and try to hit him.”
“You got it,” Massimo muttered as he edged the car forward.
