“Three…two…one…”
Deep breath.
“Go.”
The snowmobile fired, roaring to life in a cloud of oily smoke and Carmen launched, barely clearing the door crawling its way upward.
The chill seared her skin and made her eyes tear up, but she’d seen the break in the trees and kept the nose pointed in that direction.
She heard the gunfire—Gallagher’s shots louder in her earpiece—heard some thwaps against the machine. Doing damn near a hundred already, she didn’t dare to flinch.
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