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The traffic’s terrible going towards the Thorntree, but we’re going the other way and our side of the road’s all clear and open. A few people make illegal U-turns and force Deke to swing the Audi convertible into the other lane, but I suspect most of them see us screaming towards them like we have a Falcon Heavy booster in the trunk and delay their own lawbreaking in our favor.
Leave crime to the professionals.
Sitting in a car wearing a loaded utility belt is hideously uncomfortable, especially with the way my unsilenced .38 digs at my bruised side. The Audi’s passenger seat is clearly designed for people smaller than me. I brace my hands on the dash, more to keep myself from sliding around than from any actual fear. The wind takes some of the dampness from my skin but leaves me chi
