Chapter Twelve
Marina reached for her Balerinka.
It was gone.
Under her seat.
Gunfire tore through the vehicle.
She dived into the back. The window beside her shattered, rounds peppering the driver’s seat. Nothing here was bullet-resistant, except her own armor.
Footsteps.
The shooter was coming from the driver’s side.
Marina crouched in the back, knees pressing on broken glass. Behind her and downhill, Sophia’s 4x4 was swarming with a similarly armed gang, only in greater numbers.
They’d driven right into an ambush.
She reached under her seat, touched the Balerinka’s stock.
The shooter fired again, this time from close range. Rounds punched through the front seats.
Marina opened her door, shoving it hard into the man’s back. He bounced off the car and stumbled. She reached und
