“Lean on me.” She put the bike in gear, then took off down the road and away from the Rover. Mitch’s stomach and chest pressed against her back.
Doors slammed and tyres spun on gravel.
“They’re chasing us,” Mitch said with urgency.
Great. Her heart dropped to her stomach to do a floor routine. Sophia reviewed her options. With his hands bound, she couldn’t ride off-road with him. The Rover’s headlights behind her caused sections of the road to disappear from her sight, making it difficult to navigate. She could bend the light around the bike, but if the headlights aimed directly at them, they would be suddenly visible.
She manoeuvred around a turn. Mitch leaned with her. He’s been on a bike before. Perhaps she could cut through the mountains and lose the Rover. She searched for an appropriate path.
When she spotted a tight trail, she turned so Mitch could hear her. “I’m going off-road. Match my movements.”
“Jesus, lady, you don’t even have a headlight.”
“Would you rather stay?”
“No.”
Slowing to half-speed because of her passenger, she struggled to find a path that wouldn’t unseat him. Curses, yells and a few more gunshots sounded. She concentrated on riding, pouring every ounce of energy into it.
“We lost them,” Mitch said.
With her arms shaking from fatigue, she stopped. Mitch dismounted and dropped to the ground.
“That was close,” he said. “You saved my life. Where the hell did you come from?”
She removed her helmet. Her long ponytail snagged in the strap. Sweat stung her eyes and soaked her shirt under the chest protector. “I was riding and saw you needed help.”
“In the middle of the night without a headlight?” His tone implied disbelief. “It’s pitch-black out here.”
“I told you I have good night vision. Besides, I grew up around here. I know these hills like a bat knows its cave.”
“What’s your name - Bat Woman?”
“No. Wonder Woman. My invisible plane is in for repairs so I had to use my super bike.”
His shoulders sagged. “Sorry. It’s been a hell of a day. I’m Mitch Wolfe - a federal agent, and I’m going to need more of your help.”
“Sophia Daniels. I’ll do what I can.”
“First, I need to get these cuffs off.”
“My tool kit—”
“I have a key in the—” he cringed “—waistband of my underwear.”
She couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Are they special spy underwear?”
“Yep. They’re bulletproof, too. A man can’t be too cautious when it comes to personal safety.” He laughed with a deep, rich rumble that rolled right through her. “It’s a master handcuff key. It’s along my left side.” He regained his feet.
His grey T-shirt was ripped and stained with blood. Too much blood. She gasped. “You’ve been shot.”
“I felt a nick.”
She pulled his shirt up. A deep gash oozed near his ribs on the left, cutting across the ripple of muscles along his abdomen. “It’s more of a slice. You’re going to need sutures.”
“Sutures? Don’t tell me my nocturnal rescuer is also a doctor because that would be another hell of a coincidence.”
“My father was a paramedic. I have supplies—”