Certain Death - The Wheelman

LENNON WAS A VERY GOOD WHEELMAN. STARTING OUT, he was lucky, but then experience and real skill kicked in, and eventually, he earned a reputation.

The moment Lennon saw the woman and her baby stroller, he knew the Acura was going to hit them.

Impact was two seconds away. Lennon was faced with a choice: aim for the stroller, or aim for the woman. The woman had at least a slim chance of possessing catlike reflexes and leaping the hell out of the way. Based on an ultraquick glance, she seemed agile enough. Maybe she’d been a state champion gymnast as a teenager.

Braking and wrestling with the wheel was out of the question. The risk of fishtailing was too great, and Lennon worried that he would broadside both the lady and the stroller. Steering clear out of the way was impossible. Immediately to the right of the woman and stroller was one of those huge cement planter squares full of mulch and shrubs. The planter would total the Acura, and the team would have to escape on foot—if any of them were conscious enough to do so. And the car was pointed too far right to be suddenly wrenched to the left. No, the choice was still this: woman or stroller.

“Fuck!”

Holden. He had just returned to his originally scheduled programming.

Lennon’s hands floated to the right, and his foot tapped the brakes to ease the impact.

The Acura smacked into the woman cleanly, powerfully, directly below her left hip. The impact folded her in half, then sent her tumbling up the windshield and over the hood. Lennon looked in his side-view mirror, and saw—miraculously—the baby stroller, trembling slightly, but still upright on the sidewalk. She had let go, just in time.

Lennon blessed her, even as she skidded off the side of the roof and fell into the street. It was one less thing to explain to Katie.

Passersby screamed, but that wasn’t Lennon’s concern. Yes, he hoped the woman was still breathing. He hoped her hospital time would be minimal, and that, eventually, she’d forget all about what had happened to her. But he couldn’t get caught up in that now. He still had work to do.

The heist had been all on Bling. The getaway was all on him.