You have made a mistake. The A14 is crowded enough to completely halt your progress, but vehicles move to the side when they hear the siren. Still, you press on through the gaps your pursuers open in front of you.
The turn is one you do not anticipate; plowing at seventy miles per hour on a crowded street has turned out to be a second mistake. You hurl into a car, the very force of the impact slamming your head on the steering wheel, leaving an imprint on your forehead.
The damage doesn't stop there. The old man's car almost completely flips onto its back; still held in place by the seat belt, you feel it tighten around your throat. You claw at it, try to rip it off, scream hoarse screams that only shorten your breath. In the end, oblivion comes as a mercy.