The sound of bullets tearing into the side of the speeder made both Mitchell and Jen reflexively duck their heads down as the car raced past barely a meter away from them, a man wildly firing his AK from his open window.
“Who the hell was that?” a terrified Jen yelled as Mitchell looked over her shoulder at the Hummer as it disappeared into the thick blowing snow.
“It would appear that our friends are back. They must have a really good GPS, and some top-of-the-line snow tires on their damned Hummer,” said Mitchell as he floored the speeder’s gas pedal. The engine surged as the speeder skimmed over the icy surface of the frozen lake. Mitchell knew the speeder was old and probably wouldn’t take much more punishment, but he didn’t care. At that moment, he needed all the power the aged vehicle could give him.
In the SUV, the driver, Anatoly, a blonde-haired man, cursed as he turned the wheel hard over in his calloused hands. He felt the tires of his Hummer struggling to grip the snow and ice beneath him. Letting go of the accelerator, Anatoly turned into the slide and felt his vehicle’s tires grab the ice. With a practiced move, he swiftly turned the vehicle around, floored the accelerator, and then, like a charging Siberian tiger, the Hummer sped back into the blowing whiteout and after the fleeing speeder.
“Don’t let them get away this time,” Teplov said from the passenger seat as he loaded a fresh magazine into his AK.
His blood was up. He smiled to himself; the hunt was on again.
Mitchell strained to see if the car was still after them; his frustration when he realized the storm was getting worse by the minute. All he could see now was the snow as it accumulated on the speeder’s windshield. Looking over, Mitchell saw that their side mirrors were caked in snow, rendering them useless.
“Do you think we lost them?” asked Jen, trying to see their pursuers in the whiteout.
“They won’t quit, not now. Unlike us, they don’t need to see where they’re going. All they need to know is how to read their GPS’ electronic map,” answered Mitchell.
“At least we’re both in this awful weather,” Jen said, hoping that their adversary was as blind as they were; but somehow, knowing her luck, she doubted it.
Mitchell gripped the speeder’s steering wheel hard the instant he heard the sound of their adversary’s vehicle engine rapidly approaching from somewhere behind them in the blinding snow. Turning his head just in time, Mitchell saw the Hummer emerge out of the blowing snow like a charging tiger intent on getting its meal. With a loud thump, the Hummer smashed into the driver’s side of the speeder, easily crumpling the thin aluminum box towards Mitchell’s legs.
Mitchell cursed under his breath. He was growing desperate. Taking a deep breath, he turned the speeder into the Hummer, hoping to cause their attacker some damage as well.
Instantly, both vehicles swayed from side to side like drunken prizefighters. The Hummer may have been heavier, but the speeder had the advantage of mobility and traction on the ice. With a quick flick of the wrist, Mitchell turned the speeder away from their attacker and sped off, hoping to use the cover of the blowing snow to escape.
“We can’t keep this up forever,” said Mitchell, as he reached down and picked up the AK that he had taken from the wounded thug. “Jen, I need you to take over,” he said as he edged out of his seat, making room for her.
“I was hoping you would ask,” said Jen with a smile as she jumped from his seat and quickly took over the speeder’s controls from Mitchell. “Guns are your forte, but I can drive and now that I’m scared out of my mind I’m sure I can drive like the wind.”
Mitchell patted Jen on the shoulder and then moved over to the side door of the speeder. Looking out the tiny side-door porthole, Mitchell couldn’t see more than ten meters into the blinding snow. He tensely gripped the rifle and turned his head towards Jen. “Ok. I know this going to sound crazy, but I want you to trust me on this one. Jen, I want you to slow down.”
“Are you nuts?” said Jen over her shoulder. “I thought we wanted to get away, not give in.”
“We’ll never outrun them, so let’s have them come to us,” said Mitchell, grinning.
“Ryan, I hope you know what you’re doing,” Jen said as she reluctantly took her foot off the gas pedal. Instantly, the vehicle began to slow down to a mere crawl along the ice.
Anatoly cursed the weather as he peered into the near impenetrable wall of snow. He had been in many whiteouts in Russia, but never one when he was in pursuit of someone over a frozen lake. His stomach was in knots. If he failed to find the Americans, Teplov would surely gut him and his partner without hesitation. Peering down at the GPS, he saw that they were nearing the shoreline of the lake. Suddenly, a dark shape in front of them emerged through the snow.
It could only be one thing, thought Anatoly. Speeding up, he raced to close the distance before they tried to escape once more.
Mitchell saw the Hummer coming towards them. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Instantly, a bitter cold wind whipped inside, freezing Mitchell to his core.
Suddenly, the front ski on their speeder hit the top of an ice-covered boulder sticking through the ice, sending it bouncing up into the air. Mitchell barely had time to shoot out his free hand and grabbed onto of the open door, stopping himself from being thrown out of the vehicle and onto the frozen lake.
“Sorry,” called out Jen, “I must’ve hit a rock or something. I think we’re getting close to the shoreline. I’ll try to take us back out onto the lake.”
“No! Keep going straight. If it sucks for us, it will for them too!” yelled Mitchell, as he struggled to pull himself back inside the speeder. Turning his head, Mitchell saw their opponent’s car racing towards them. Grabbing the AK, he brought it up to his shoulder and took aim.
Jen yelled something, but Mitchell never heard her; his mind was too fixed on the vehicle speeding towards them.
The Hummer was now only seconds away; it was so close that Mitchell did not even need to aim. Flipping the AK’s selector to full auto, Mitchell pulled the trigger and held it down as he emptied the entire thirty-round magazine into the vehicle. Bullets shot into the windshield of the approaching Hummer, shattering the glass and tearing into the hapless driver, his body jerking violently as the bullets struck his body.
The dead driver’s hands still clenched the steering wheel. His lifeless body slowly slumped over, turning the wheel hard left. Blinded by the blowing snow and wind whipping inside their vehicle, Teplov struggled to reach over and pull the dead driver away from the wheel. Jamming his foot down hard on the brake pedal, Teplov fought to bring the SUV to a stop before they hit something and ended up flipping over on the ice.
Slamming the speeder’s side door closed, Mitchell dropped the empty AK onto the floor, shook the snow from his body, and then made his way over to Jen. Sliding down into the passenger seat, Mitchell looked over at Jen and smiled. If she was scared by everything that was happening around her, she surely didn’t show it.
Peering out of the frosted windshield, Mitchell saw what he took to be a cottage set back from the edge of the lake. “Jen, head over to the right,” said Mitchell, pointing towards the dark shape in the distance.
Jen nodded and then turned the speeder towards land.
They were less than ten meters from the shore when disaster struck. Unseen in the blowing snow was the top of a log lodged deep in the ice. The speeder hit the log head-on. Instantly, their speeder came to a bone-jarring halt. Jen screamed as she was thrown forward by the impact, her head hitting the dash, knocking her out cold. Blood poured from a deep gash on her forehead. Mitchell raised his arms to cover his face as he flew straight through the plastic windshield, his body tumbling end over end until he came to a stop beside a small ice-fishing cabin.