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- He points a handgun at me and fires. I duck as the windshield shatters with tremendous force. I’m covered in broken glass and feel the sting of what seems like a hundred needles pricking my face. My limo invariably swerves across the freeway and I barely get it under control before I crash into the rail.
- Pulling the car back into the lane, I take a moment to brush myself off. The rain batters me through the gaping hole, now making it nearly impossible to see. I reach into my backpack with one hand, grab my goggles, and slip them on. Now I could drive through a dust storm and it wouldn’t bother me. I then glance in the rearview mirror and see that my mug is lightly dotted with streaks of blood. Sons of bitches.
- - Operation Barracuda, Chapter 30
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