49 The Flames of War

"I have a company in the UA, a massive one. I like what you do. If you want, you can come drive for me. Don’t worry about the green card either; the Senate is really close to me." Robert was passionately bullsh*ting in the passenger seat, happily chatting with the driver who was wearing a red headscarf and holding a cigarette in his mouth.

Bang!

Spider web cracks had swept across the window pane before it shattered, scattering in like snowflakes.

"Sh*t!"

Robert quickly rolled underneath the seat and grabbed the steering wheel, resisting the pain from the cuts on his head as he pulled the truck to a stop.

The driver who previously had a bright smile on his face now had a gaping, bloody hole in his head.

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