meant that you’ve got the skills of a well-practiced race car driver,” Bolan said.
“Ah, yes,” Galab said as she patted the steering wheel with both hands. “I have driven in rescue missions many times to get the children. I suppose I have picked up some skills along the way.” She paused, took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “But driving is not fighting. I do not think I could ever pull the trigger of a gun and take a human life.”
“You wouldn’t have to,” Bolan said, chuckling softly. “You could always just run them over in the street.”
The woman’s only answer was a smile. A moment later she turned into a parking lot, then settled the Maxima in an empty space. “It is better if we go from here on foot,” she said.
The soldier glanced around at the shattered windshield, shards of broken glass and bullet holes now decorating the vehicle. “Yeah,” he said. “I suppose we might draw a little unwanted attention in this thing.”
“And we should take your bags,” Galab stated. “Where we are going will be as good a place as you will find to store them until they are needed.”
Bolan nodded, got out and pulled the straps of several bags over his head to hang from his shoulders. “Aren’t I going to draw a lot of attention with all this?” he asked.
“Certainly,” the woman said. “But the path down which I will lead you will be away from interested eyes. At least for the most part.”
A second later they left the parking lot and started down a deserted alley behind the busy market.
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