Page 244 of Bratva Jewels Box Set

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I reach over and rip her evening dress.

“Oh my god, what did you do? That was couture,” she squeals.

“That means shit when you have to run.”

I watch as Elena does the same, kicking off her heels.

“You seriously think we’re going to have to run?” Grace says.

“Be prepared,” I tell her.

“Incoming!” Sergei shouts as we hear the rumble of something

behind us.

I turn and look through the back windscreen and see three G-wagons barreling toward us.

“Shit.” I aim my sniper rifle at them.

“Elena, shoot out the window for me. I need a clear shot.”

She nods and does just that.

Grace screams beside her as we’re showered with glass.

I get to my knees, resting my gun on the headrests, and take my time lining up the shot. A boom fills the night air, and one of the cars wobbles as it deals with having a front tire blown out. I watch as the windows come down, and hands go out, holding guns. I turn around and drop over the top of Grace as the bullets hit the back of the car.

Grace is screaming.

And Elena returns fire.

I sit up and steady myself as best I can, lining up the face of the driver in my scope and pulling the trigger. His head slumps to the side, his hands turning the wheel, and the car takes a sharp turn and rolls a couple of times.

“Yes!” Elena screams, giving me a high five as we congratulate each other.

“Two more coming up,” Sergei says.

I line them up again and take a shot, putting a hole in the first car’s engine, then blow another tire out. The second car speeds closer to us, but Elena returns fire and takes out a couple of guards.

“ETA to the airport is twenty minutes,” Sergei says as he weaves in and out of late-night Moscow traffic.

“Shit, shit, shit.” My eyes catch movement in the distance.

“Fuck, Max. That’s a helicopter,” Sergei says. “We’re stuck on the fucking freeway—I can’t get off. We’re sitting ducks.”

Thewhoop whoopof a military-grade helicopter gets closer as the tiny black object in the distance moves toward us.

“Max.” Grace sounds fearful.

I look over at Elena, and she’s pale.

We both turn around and buckle up.

“Sergei, you need to run this car off the bridge,” I tell my right-hand man.

“What the fuck, Max?” Grace screams at me.

The fear in her eyes breaks my heart. “Babe, I promise we’ll be safe. It’s not far, put your seatbelt on tight.” She’s shaking her head, so I do it for her. “You’d better message whoever you report to and let them know the situation has turned south. That you are starting your exit strategy,” I tell Elena.