The van hadn't cleared the mouth of Marlark Street before five gunmen came pouring out of the bar's front entrance behind them.
The burst of automatic fire hit the bodywork in a scattered line, rounds punching through the rear panels and sparking off the frame. Everyone in the cabin dropped as low as the seats allowed. Howard kept his foot down and his eyes forward.
Soren didn't stay down.
He came up halfway, braced his elbow against the seat back, and fired through the rear window before the gunmen had finished their first burst. Seven rounds in just over two seconds — controlled, sequential, each one placed with the kind of precision that had nothing to do with luck. Two headshots dropped the lead pair instantly. The remaining three took rounds to the chest and abdomen and went down i
