They had just passed through the entrance to Fort Monroe along the waterfront

when the car jerked, slowed, and then suddenly accelerated to nearly eighty

miles an hour. Knox was thrown back against her seat by the force. “Puller, what

the hell are you doing?” “It’s not me,” he snapped. “It’s the car.” He slammed

on the brake and then tried to shift into park. Neither maneuver worked. He dug

his foot under the accelerator pedal to try to pry it up but it wouldn’t budge.

 

The speedometer clicked to a hundred and they were still accelerating. “Omigod!”

screamed Knox as the car veered sharply to the left and cut across the oncoming

lane, very nearly flipping in the process before the rubber regained firm

traction.

 

What was about to happen would make them both wish the car had flipped.

 

The vehicle hit a bump, went airborne, cleared the low wall, sailed into open

space, and then gravity forced the nose of the car down and they slammed into

the dark waters of the channel.

 

The air bags deployed and Puller was stunned by both the impact of the water and

the gas-filled bag slamming into him. The car started to quickly sink into the

brackish water of the channel.

 

Puller shook his head clear and looked over at Knox. Her eyes were closed and

there was blood on the side of her head. Despite the front and side air bags she

must have hit something.