Aegis Incursion Read Free

the second man.
    “Yes, I was. I’m sorry. It was an emergency. Look, I’m leaving. I’m gone.” He started to push his way past the pair but was held back.
    “He’s heard too much,” the one in the suit muttered. “Call security.”
    “Whoa, whoa, relax,” the driver said. “There’s no need for that. I’m just a delivery guy. I’m on my way out now.”
    The men said nothing as the one in the lab coat moved to block the bathroom door and spoke quickly into a small radio. The driver sighed inwardly. He didn’t like where this was going.
    The guards arrived within a minute. When they entered, the driver assessed them. Both were wearing black coveralls with handguns at their hips. Mean-looking batons were in their hands, and the guards didn’t appear to be the types who’d shy away from using them.
    The driver quickly decided that the guards were not there to merely apprehend him. In a motion honed by years of practice, he grabbed the man in the suit and flicked out his box-cutter knife from its belt sheath. He held the blade to his captive’s throat. “Now,” he said quietly, “I’m going to leave. You try anything and he’ll be a bleeding mess on the floor.”
    The guards hesitated. The fact that they did meant that the driver was using someone of importance as a shield—and that was the only advantage he had.
    “Move away from the door.” When the guards glared at him, he snarled and pressed the blade harder against his captive’s neck. “I said, move away from the door!”
    Seeing that the driver meant business, the guards and the man in the lab coat reluctantly stepped away toward the sinks. The driver’s eyes followed their every move. When he was satisfied with their distance from the exit, he walked backward toward the door, dragging the suited man with him. He kicked back and the door flung open. In a blink of an eye, he sheathed the knife and pushed the man toward the guards before turning and barreling out of the restroom.
    He sprinted down the corridor in the direction he’d come from and threw himself at the door, pushing it open, and ran to his van.
    As he jumped into the vehicle and started the engine, he caught sight of the guards racing toward him in the side mirror. Without another thought, he stomped on the gas and sped headlong for the guard post. He smashed through the boom gate, ignoring the shouts from the guards inside. As he swerved onto the road, he heard the report of gunfire. Thankfully, the rear of the van took the bullets and he fishtailed away from the site.
    He turned northbound onto Interstate 5, pushing the bulky vehicle up to its limit. When he glanced at his side mirror again, he saw two pairs of near-blinding headlights following close behind. As they accelerated toward him, the driver recognized the vehicles as Dodge Chargers usually used as police interceptors.
    The odds were not in his favor, not when all he had was a box van that could barely reach eighty miles per hour. He wasn’t going to lose his pursuers with speed. An idea formed in his mind but before he could act, shots rang out and he heard the back of his van take more bullets before one zinged past his window and shattered the left side mirror. Not easily fazed, he continued pushing the van as the leading Charger hastened to catch up.
    He counted silently to three then slammed on the brakes. The van skidded to a stop but the guard behind the wheel of the leading Charger didn’t react quickly enough. The Charger slammed into the rear of the truck and the car’s momentum forced it up on its front wheels. The driver of the van quickly switched pedals and floored it. As the truck resumed speeding north, the Charger, in its precarious balancing act, flipped over.
    The van mounted the crest of a hill bound by steep drops on either side and passed a sign that read ‘Lake Shasta’. Ahead, the driver saw the long bridge that spanned the lake. He took a quick look at his right side mirror. If he’d