Another hit rocked the limousine from behind.
Mia screamed, a high-pitched sound that grated on Camille's nerves. Victoria was clawing at the leather armrest, her face a mask of absolute terror.
"Call the police!" Victoria shrieked. "Do something!"
The limousine swerved violently. The driver was losing control. Camille could feel the heavy chassis swaying, the center of gravity tipping dangerously.
Camille looked at the rearview mirror. She saw the black grille of a modified SUV filling the view.
They weren't trying to run them off the road. They were boxing them in. This was a kidnapping extraction.
"Move," Camille said.
She didn't wait for a response. She unbuckled her seatbelt. The car lurched again, but Camille moved with the balance of a cat. She vaulted over the partition separating the passenger cabin from the driver.
The driver was hyperventilating, his knuckles white on the wheel.
Camille grabbed his collar and yanked. "Passenger seat. Now."
The ferocity in her voice broke his paralysis. He scrambled over the console, falling into the passenger seat.
Camille slid behind the wheel.
It felt different than the simulators she had built in the prison workshop, but the physics were the same. Mass, velocity, friction.
"You're crazy!" Victoria screamed from the back. "You're going to kill us!"
Camille ignored her. She gripped the wheel. Her eyes scanned the mirrors. One car on the left flank, one behind. The third was coming up fast on the right.
She slammed the accelerator to the floor.
The heavy engine roared. The limousine surged forward.
"Hang on," Camille muttered.
She saw the exit ramp approaching. It was a sharp right. Too sharp for a vehicle this long at this speed. But the SUV on her right was timing its approach perfectly, intending to pin her against the guardrail.
She didn't brake.
Instead, she waited until the SUV was almost perfectly aligned with her rear wheels. Then she jerked the wheel hard to the right, directly into the attacker's path, while simultaneously slamming on the brakes.
The tires screamed. The massive weight of the limousine acted like a steel wall. It wasn't a drift; it was a bludgeoning. The SUV on her right wasn't expecting a defensive move to become a brutal offensive one. There was a sickening crunch of metal as the limousine's reinforced rear corner smashed into the SUV's front fender.
The SUV spun out, its driver losing all control. It crashed through the guardrail and tumbled down the embankment.
In the distance, a silver Rolls Royce Phantom was cruising in the slow lane. Inside, Horatio Melton watched the black limousine execute a brutally effective PIT maneuver with impossible precision.
"Blake," Horatio said, his voice low.
"Sir?" his assistant replied from the front seat.
"That limousine. The driver just used a three-ton vehicle like a battering ram."
"Impressive, sir."
"Find out who is in that car."
Camille straightened the wheel. The limo leveled out, shooting forward. Two SUVs were still in pursuit.
Ahead, a logging truck was chugging up the incline.
Camille calculated the gap. It was tight.
She eased off the gas.
"What are you doing?" the driver beside her yelled. "They're catching up!"
"Shut up," Camille said.
She waited. The SUV behind them accelerated, thinking she was losing power. It came up fast, preparing to ram.
At the last second, Camille jerked the wheel. The limo swerved into the right lane, cutting directly in front of the logging truck's blind spot.
The SUV driver didn't have the reflexes. He slammed straight into the back of the logging truck.
Metal crunched. Logs spilled. The road behind them became a chaos of debris, blocking the third pursuer.
Camille exhaled. She slowed the car down and pulled onto the shoulder a mile down the road.
Her pulse was steady at seventy beats per minute.
She put the car in park and turned to look at the back.
Victoria and Mia were huddled together, covered in champagne and glass. They looked at Camille with wide, shocked eyes.
Then the shock turned to rage.
Victoria threw open the door and stumbled out onto the grass. She marched up to the driver's window.
"You lunatic!" she screamed, reaching in to slap Camille. "You almost killed us!"
Camille caught her mother's wrist. Her grip was iron.
"I just saved your lives," Camille said. Her voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "Next time, I might let them take you."
She shoved Victoria's hand away.
The silver Rolls Royce drove past them slowly. Through the tinted glass, Horatio Melton saw the woman in the driver's seat. Her hair was messy, her coat was old, but her eyes were burning.
He memorized her face.
"That's Camille Haynes," Blake said, looking at his tablet. "Just released from federal prison today."
Horatio watched her in the side mirror until she disappeared.
"Interesting," he said.
