[Jake's POV]
The FDR Drive erupted into a chaotic, high-speed war zone.
Bullets hammered against the ballistic windshield of the Durango, leaving deep, spiderweb fractures in the reinforced glass. The deafening roar of automatic gunfire echoed off the concrete barriers, mixing with the terrified screams of civilian drivers slamming on their brakes and swerving to avoid the crossfire.
"Keep us steady!" I yelled over the noise, leaning out the passenger window.
The freezing wind tore at my face, stinging my eyes. My side was screaming in agony, the heavy combat corset digging brutally into my stitched wound with every swerve of the SUV. I ignored the pain, locking my arms against the doorframe to stabilize my aim.
The lead utility van was thirty yards ahead, pacing the federal convoy. The two remaining Blackwood mercenaries in the back of the van were laying down a relentless barrage of suppressing fire, chewing through the rear armor of the federal SUVs.
