Special Agent. Valerie Hansen

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       FIVE

      Max jumped back, gun in both hands, feet apart in a shooter’s stance. “Stop!”

      The dump truck kept inching along.

      He raced to Katerina before the other vehicle could complete the last of its tight maneuvers, shoved her aside, slid behind the wheel and tromped on the gas. He was just in time.

      With the SUV slewing backward he whipped the wheel hard then slammed on the brakes. They skidded in a circle that left blackened swirls of rubber on the road.

      Katerina screamed.

      Max straightened their trajectory and sped downhill. Ascending traffic was already backed up for quite a distance. All he could hope for at present was that the thugs in the disguised truck would continue to pursue him and ignore innocent civilians.

      “Call this in,” he ordered Katerina. “Tell them what’s happened and give the dispatcher our updated position.”

      Although her hand was shaking as she reached for the radio, he could tell she had control of herself. Except for that one piercing scream she was actually responding to the crisis so well he couldn't help but be impressed.

      “Can’t you go faster?” Katerina asked as soon as she’d finished using the radio.

      “Yes, but I don’t want to lose him.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because it doesn’t matter who is doing the chasing. We still need to know where these guys are and being ahead of them is almost as good as following.”

      “Says who?” She strained to see past Opal to check their outside mirrors.

      “Opal. Backseat. Go. Down,” Max ordered. The K-9 obeyed instantly.

      Katerina took advantage of the space. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if she’d let me move over.”

      “You shouldn’t have opened her kennel.”

      “Sorry. I was afraid for Opal. If we’d been pushed off the road she might have been trapped inside the car. I wanted her to have the best chance of survival.”

      He had to give credit where it was due. “That was quick thinking when you backed up. Otherwise I might have had to shoot the truck driver.”

      “Would you have?”

      “Not if there was any other option,” Max said solemnly. “I don't suppose you'd like to tell me who you think is in the truck.”

      “How should I know?”

      “Just asking.” He continued to monitor the behemoth behind them and was satisfied it was still on their trail.

      Ahead, as the road straightened and the countryside opened into valleys and pasture, cars were lined up behind a farmer’s tractor and hay bailer in their lane. Max was not pleased. “Uh-oh.” He flipped on his red lights and hit the siren, hoping to clear the way. Most of the passenger cars pulled over but the farmer seemed oblivious.

      Max saw Katerina’s feet brace against the floorboard. Her hands pushed forward to the edge of the dash. “Look out!”

      He did the only thing he could since there was no room to pass; he slowed to a crawl. And braced to be hit from behind. “Hang on.”

      * * *

      As far as Katerina was concerned, he couldn’t have convinced her to let go if he’d tried. Every muscle in her body was taut, every nerve firing. This was scarier than her toughest dressage competition. At least when she was in the show ring she was in charge. Putting her life in this agent’s hands was proving to be a poor decision despite his valiant efforts to protect her. Assuming they lived through the next few minutes she intended to thank him, despite the fact he kept giving the impression he thought this predicament was all her fault.