“How fast you think we’re going,” I said to Hawk.

“Hard to tell, nothing to compare it to.”

“Probably fifty-five,” I said. “No reason to go faster. No one’s chasing them. No point getting nabbed for speeding and all the aggravation that might ensue.”

“Ensue,” Hawk said. “We riding on top of a fucking speeding truck with six armed guys in it in the fucking dark and you talking about ensue.”

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