“Right now?” Restin fumbled with his concealed holster.
“Get down-!” Joe wrenched the younger man lower. He elbowed the back of the driver’s seat twice. “That overpass up ahead, Ferise. Block the lane.” The top of her head gave a sharp nod in the rearview.
Restin was cursing. His Walther P99 finally came free. Joe watched him. The kid’s breathing was fast, but under control.
The engine growled and Joe felt the frame vibrate as Ferise downshifted. He locked his vz. 61’s wire folding stock into place.
“Stop under the span! If they have drones I want them in suspense.”