Chapter 7 - The Mountain Pass
The pursuit moved into the dense pine corridors of the Cascade foothills. The sun, once bright and clear, became obscured by a canopy of ancient evergreens, plunging the winding two-lane highway into deep, cold shadows. The asphalt was damp from early morning mist, slick and treacherous under heavy acceleration.
Jax rode with clinical aggression. He leaned low into the turns, his floorboards scraping sparks against the road surface. Clara held him tighter, her muscles aching from the strain of keeping herself and Leo balanced against the violent centrifugal forces. Beneath the thick flannel wrap, Leo pressed his face into her chest, never crying, his small hand curled tightly around a silver chain resting beneath Clara's shirt.
In the rearview mirror, the black SUV lunged forward, closing the gap to fifty yards. The driver was skilled, taking the curves wide to maintain momentum.
""Hold on!"" Jax shouted.
A sharp crack echoed through the canyon—a gunshot. A round struck the rock face to their right, sending a shower of limestone dust over their helmets.
""They're shooting!"" Clara screamed into Jax’s back.
""They won't aim center mass!"" Jax yelled back, shifting gears. ""They need the boy alive to claim the trust assets! They're trying to clip my tires!""
Up ahead, the highway narrowed across an old wooden trestle bridge spanning a deep, rocky ravine. At the far end of the bridge, a second black vehicle was parked sideways, completely barricading the exit lane. Two armed men stood behind open doors, rifles raised, waiting to funnel them into an inescapable crossfire.
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They were boxed in. Behind them, two tons of steel barreling at eighty miles an hour; ahead, an iron barricade guarded by automatic weapons.
Jax looked down at the gorge below, then at the narrow pedestrian walkway running along the outer rim of the bridge.
