Ethan repeated his command, his voice cold and flat: "Let's get out."
Jason threw the door open with controlled force and stepped out, moving immediately into a defensive posture that placed his broad frame slightly between Ethan and the nearest approaching guards. Ethan followed, exiting the vehicle and standing straight, projecting an air of aristocratic annoyance.
The three charging security contractors were massive, dressed identically in tactical black suits, and bristling with high-end gear. They stopped a few feet away, their assault rifles held loosely but ready.
"Who the hell do you think you are, old man?! You just cut off a Congressional motorcade! Move your damn car, now, before we drag you out!" the Guard Leader shouted aggressively.
