BRRAKK!
The impact sent the luxury sedan flying sideways into the roadside barrier with a bone-rattling jolt. Shards of glass scattered across the back seat, glittering like snow beneath the flickering streetlights.
Time seemed to slow. Satrio instinctively pulled Vina against his chest, using his own body as a shield. Only then did he realize that the violent impact hadn't been an ordinary accident.
"Keep your head down, ma'am!" Satrio ordered, his voice booming through the deafening silence after the crash. He felt Vina gripping his injured arm, but despite being in shock, Vina immediately followed his command.
The driver, a veteran who stayed calm under pressure, quickly regained control of the steering wheel after it had gone wild. He hit the gas, cranked the wheel sharply, and the car surged forward again, pulling away from the crash site.
"Satrio, report this situation to Julian immediately. Exact coordinates," Vina hissed. Her voice trembled slightly, but her commanding tone remained firm. She didn't waste time panicking. Satrio's warning had just been proven right. They hadn't sent idiots this time; they'd sent wreckers.
Satrio asked the driver, "What happened? What kind of vehicle was that?"
"A black pickup truck with no plates, sir. They deliberately rammed us. It wasn't an accident. They're chasing us," the driver replied, his voice tense but focused. The car's speed increased. "I'm heading for the expressway. We can go faster there."
Satrio looked behind them. Amid the glitter of the nighttime lights, he saw a large black shadow moving quickly and aggressively. The truck was closing in again.
"They're coming back. Get ready," Satrio muttered, positioning himself to completely shield Vina. He hadn't brought a firearm; he'd have to rely on instinct and strength.
As soon as their car entered the deserted expressway, the black truck shot forward like a predator. It overtook them, then swerved sharply, trying to force Vina's car into the barrier again.
"Sir, don't let them cut us off!" Satrio shouted.
The driver shouted back, slightly frustrated, "They're driving like maniacs! I can't turn as fast as they can!"
The truck was now running alongside them on the left. In an instant, its passenger window rolled down. Satrio saw only a flash of metal before he shouted,
"Get down!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The loud, dry crack of gunfire shattered the nighttime silence on the expressway. The remaining glass on the left side of the car exploded. A bullet tore through the door, leaving behind a small, smoking hole. The sharp smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Vina gasped, pressed against the floor of the car. The fear she'd managed to bury for so long came crawling back, but she fought it down. She was the target.
Satrio held his breath. He glanced at the bandage on his arm. Julian had to know everything. This was no longer about intimidation; this was an attempted public assassination.
"Mr. Julian! They're shooting at us!" Satrio shouted when his call connected. "Black pickup truck with no plates, currently on the northbound expressway, kilometer 15! They're armed! Contact the police immediately and tell them there's an exchange of gunfire involving an attempted assassination of a commissioner!"
The truck fell back slightly, preparing for its next attack.
"Ma'am, hold on tight!" Satrio ordered without ending the call. He turned to the driver. "Sir, perform a PIT maneuver now! Hit the back of it when they overtake us!"
The driver was startled. "Sir, that's extremely risky!"
"We don't have a choice! Do it!"
Vina's car accelerated, then suddenly slowed. The black truck fell into the trap, assuming Vina's car had lost control, and surged ahead to cut them off.
When the truck reached the right position, Satrio shouted, "Now!"
With precise driving skill, the driver cranked the wheel hard and clipped the truck's rear with the front of their car. A fast, forceful PIT maneuver.
CRASH!
The black truck lost its balance. Its rear tires squealed, and then it began spinning wildly across the expressway, smoke billowing from beneath its wheels. The truck slammed into the concrete barrier and came to a stop with one final, ear-splitting impact.
Vina's car sped away, leaving smoke, dust, and silence behind them.
Vina raised her head. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but her eyes were shining. She looked at Satrio, breathing hard.
"They won't stop," Vina hissed. It wasn't a question but a statement.
"No, ma'am," Satrio replied, steadying his breathing. "But now they know you won't die in silence. You'll fight back."
He felt blood dripping down his arm. His gunshot wound had reopened from the impact and strain.
"We're going back to the office. I want you to meet Julian and the police," Vina said, her voice now calm, cold as ice, and more determined than ever. "This isn't a business game anymore. This is a declaration of war."
Satrio nodded. He knew the real battle hadn't even begun.
"Understood, ma'am. But allow me to ask one thing: I need more people I can trust. Immediately."
"I'll contact Mr. Roni," Vina said. "Can your friends from that training center be trusted?"
"I'll ask for a few people I already know. They're trustworthy," Satrio said, his eyes cold.
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the cold look in Satrio's eyes. 'Miss Vina is lucky to have a bodyguard like Mr. Satrio. I feel relieved knowing her safety is guaranteed,' he thought.
He kept driving ahead, taking them back to the office, toward the heart of the storm they'd just created. The night grew deeper, and the capital felt like one vast battlefield.
Just after their car passed the kilometer 20 marker, leaving smoke and debris behind, Satrio tried desperately to contact Julian again. This time, the call went through.
"Julian! Can you hear me? Call the police now! The black truck—"
Julian's voice came through, but it wasn't shocked or panicked. It sounded strange, heavy, and far too calm.
"Satrio," Julian breathed. His voice sounded distant, as though he were speaking from the bottom of a well. "It's too late."
"Too late for what? The police are on their way, Julian! We—"
"Not that, you idiot!" Julian snapped, his voice suddenly rising into a shriek filled with unmistakable despair. "Listen carefully, Satrio. I know who's driving it. The truck..."
Satrio felt his heart drop. He looked behind them, but the expressway behind them was empty, dark, and silent.
"What do you mean, Julian? Who's driving it? Why do you sound like you're... saying goodbye?"
"He... he's the one after Vina. He's the one who planned all of this. And he gave me a choice," Julian said, panting. "He said I had to choose: protect Vina, or protect myself and my family."
"Julian, there is no choice like that! We'll protect you too! Tell me now."
A loud noise came from the other end of the line, like a door being slammed, followed by Julian's brief, desperate scream.
Then a new voice came through. It was deep, cold, and carried a rigid military accent.
"The choice has already been made, Satrio," the voice hissed. "And I don't like waiting."
Satrio froze. That wasn't Julian's voice. "Who is this?"
The unfamiliar voice gave a low laugh. "Consider me your welcome gift. I'm the man who's going to make you understand how small you are and how wrong your calculations were. I have only one question for you, Satrio. And you have only five seconds to answer it."