CHAPTER TWELVE
“g*n at two o’clock!” Stuart shouted.
Alexa ducked, instinctively knowing that Stuart’s warning would be followed by a bullet.
It was.
There was a loud bang on the right side of the four-by-four. The vehicle swerved to the right. Roy Whitehat cursed and struggled with the steering wheel as they ripped through a bush, bucked over a large rock, and finally ground to a stop in a shallow gully.
“Got a tire!” Whitehat shouted. “Everyone OK?”
“Yeah,” Alexa and Stuart said, both of them hunched over to make as small of targets as possible.
A second shot spiderwebbed Stuart’s window, but the bulletproof glass held.
“Let’s get him,” Whitehat said.
They all got out on the driver’s side, keeping the heavy police vehicle between them and the shooter.
A third shot came, whizzin
