AMIRA by Matthew Betley (feel good books to read .TXT) 📕

and satisfaction coursed through Amira.  The matriarch had encountered a fearsome hunter equal to herself, and she’d respected the law of the jungle.  I know what I am, and so does she. 

She rolled the neoprene mask back down over her face and turned around.  The men stared at her in awe, not as the woman and killer before her but as if she were some kind of ancient goddess in human form.

Before she could speak to break their reverie, the faint roar of an engine entered through the open door.  Out of time. 

“Listen, help will be on the way.  I’ll make sure of it.  Is there a vehicle around here?  And where are the keys?  I can’t let these bastards get away.”

The Chinese leader said, “There are keys in the command center on a rack right inside the door.  There are three jeeps on the other side of the building.  The top rows of keys are for those.  Good luck,” he said, and then added, “and thank you.  We are in your debt.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m sorry about your losses,” she said, referring to the guards murdered during the initial assault and the additional hostage who lay dead on the floor, killed by the rebel’s gunfire as the matriarch had attacked.  “It’s been interesting.  Feel free to leave out the details of my arrival, if you don’t mind.  Take the credit.  You all earned it.  Be safe.”

And just as quickly as the matriarch had fled the building, Amira sprinted to the door and exited as the stunned liberated hostages watched their rescuer pursue their remaining captors.

Chapter 14

Amira grabbed the last set of keys from the top row and dashed out of the command center,               leapt down the short set of steps, and sprinted north.  As she rounded the corner, she glanced down at the keychain and saw the Toyota symbol on the key, whose base was a remote FOB with lock and unlock symbols.  She skidded to a halt, pressed the unlock button, and a second later, a chirp and the flash of headlights drew her attention to a white Toyota Hilux 4x4 pick-up, one of the most popular off-road vehicles on the continent. We’re in business. 

She reached the truck, entered the double cab, inserted the key, and slammed the center console gearshift into drive.  She pressed the accelerator to the floor, and the vehicle lurched forward in the dirt, following the dust that still hung in the air from the fleeing rebels.  They’re less than sixty seconds ahead of you.  You can catch them. 

The network of pipes raced by on her left as she sped through the compound, the lingering dust in her headlights a suspended trail of breadcrumbs.  She reached the end of the dirt road and slammed on the brakes.  To her left was the northern perimeter of the facility – don’t forget to come back and get your backpack – and to the right was the exit and the sprawling village of Paloich.  She looked through the passenger window and was rewarded by a pair of headlight beams bouncing away into the night no more than a quarter of a mile from her location.  Gotcha. 

Amira turned off the main headlights, left the running lights on, and floored the accelerator.  The Hilux roared to life and chased after the escaping vehicle.  She hoped they wouldn’t see her until it was too late, but no matter what, only one of them would survive the night.  Her orders had been clear, and she planned to stick to them.

As the Hilux raced across the flat ground of the dirt road, she kept her eyes on the target vehicle.  It had turned north away from her.  She kept her eyes on the road and realized in the glow of the running lights that it gradually curved to the left.  She accelerated through the gradual curve and hit a straight-away just as the vehicle in front of her turned right.  It’s now on the paved part of the main road that runs through the area.  The Hilux picked up speed, and she glanced at the speedometer, which read 140 kph.  Damn metric system, she thought, recognizing she was driving 85 to 90 mph.

The pick-up reached the turn less than twenty seconds later, and Amira slowed just enough to drift through it.  The Toyota’s tires gripped the pavement, and the Hilux shot across the road on its newfound traction.

Where the hell are they going?  The main road turned left less than two miles away and ran north to the airport.  Going straight, the pavement transformed into another dirt road.  There were no other vehicles in sight, and Amira kept her eyes on the red taillights, which grew closer by the second.

The vehicle – another white Toyota Hilux, she was close enough to recognize – slowed down, its taillights blazing brightly in the morning darkness.  Amira followed suit but kept gaining ground.

The second Hilux continued to decelerate, and Amira was forced to slow even more.  She was less than thirty yards away when the Hilux ground to a complete halt, and Amira did the same.

For the briefest of moments, she wondered what their plan was, realizing an instant later their intent.  Ambush. 

Amira floored the accelerator as both the driver and passenger front doors opened, and a man appeared on each side, holding an AK-47 and turning it in her direction.  Her Hilux shot forward as automatic weapons fired once again cried into the night.

Twenty yards, she thought, crouching low behind the steering wheel as the first rounds struck the hood of the vehicle.  She pulled the steering wheel to the left at ten yards from the back of the vehicle and took aim at the driver.

Bullets ripped into the windshield, and one struck the mirror.  Glass exploded around her, but she maintained her grip on the steering