The rider came down straight through a nearby car’s windshield, causing the vehicle to swerve and stop side on to the traffic behind him. There was another screech of breaks as another biker crashed straight into the front panel of the car, sending him volleying over the car and skidding onto the road.
Samara took the turn at the roundabout, and then another left. Now they were on the Vjal L-Istadium Nazzjonali road.
She smiled – they were getting away.
They were on the main road to the embassy – by her estimation, another fifteen minutes. Samara did not notice as her gaze was more on the two men on motorbikes cutting through the parking lot and heading for the junction.
Samara knew they were trying to force her down one of the side roads where there would be a roadblock – a kill zone.
