The driver leaned out—same suit, same face as the man from the service road. “Mr. Carter, the police can’t help you. You’ve transported restricted assets across state lines.”
“Assets?” Dan shouted. “You mean stolen goods!”
“Recovered goods,” the man corrected calmly. “And now, they belong to us again.”
Then came the pop of a tire blowing out—and Dan realized they’d just shot his rig’s front wheel.
