"Of course they are chasing us. If someone stole ten million from me, I'd chase the bastard, too," Tristan muttered under his breath.
Next moment, everybody in the truck was thrown to the wall when the driver pressed on the gas pedal.
Louder, Tristan shouted, "Tomas, help me return the fire!"
Out of all his team, Tomas had the steadiest aim, Tristan had noticed. Now the scarred man nodded and together they opened the back door of the truck enough to shoot.
There was no point in more people trying to shoot back. The truck was wide enough that they could've fit, but only two men at the edges had something to hold on to.
The truck's driver was trying to get away from the chase. The road was empty enough that he could speed to the limit of the car's ability—but he still had to veer away from obstacles every other second. And when the truck drove straight ahead, it would always hit a pothole.
