You approach the idicated turn, saying nothing. You've still got your seatbelt on, restricting your movement enough that you couldn't get the gun if you wanted to, but Tommy doesn't. You're not about to let him kill you, even if you did screw up and whack his woman. You veer a little to the side while Tommy keeps his eyes on you. You don't blink. You don't flex. You let the crash surprise him, and it definitely does. Your car crumples against a light post, bending it but not knocking it down, and Tommy flies through the windshield. He's going straight at first, but hits the post and gains a spin, leaving red circles on the ground from his face as he skids to a stop.
You take off your seatbelt and step out. That should take care of him, but you don't take chances in this line of work, especially with two other bodies less than a mile away. You push him over with a toe and look at his face. You relax a little when you see the pulp it has become, knowing nobody could survive that, and so your guard is down when he lifts the gun he somehow managed to keep ahold of and unloads the whole clip at your chest.
Tommy Twelve Toes is blind now, of course, so most of the shots go wide. At least two (it's hard to be certain from the searing explosions of pain that rack your body) plant themselves in your body. It suddenly becomes hard to breathe and the world gets darker as your eyes dialate. On the bright side, he's out of ammo and probably doesn't have to strength to do anything else.