CHAPTER 2: The Quick and the Dead
“Still breathing?” Trove remarked to Smythe sarcastically, with a huge smile.
“Not quite,” Smythe replied, still catching his breath. Inexperienced as she was, she damn well seemed to enjoy the thrill of the chase. Something about her enlightened Smythe, and made him feel young again. “Any second now,” Smythe whispered, rolling down his window and readying his gun. Trove continued to stare into her rear-view mirror, awaiting the convoy of black vans.
“Here they come!” she shouted, shifting gears and accelerating as fast as possible. The first black van sped by them, followed by the luxury car and the other two vans.
“Quick, pull in behind the last van!” Smythe yelled at Trove as she struggled to keep pace with them. The concrete cliff-side which they had flown off of seconds ago now towered over them on their right, trapping them between itself and the waterway on their left. The last of the black vans swerved in front of them, blocking them from making any kind of pass.
“Stay on its right,” Smythe shouted as he leaned out the window, aiming his weapon at the speeding van in front of them. Smythe’s hair blew in the wind as they sped down the street after the convoy at an incredible speed. “Keep her straight,” Smythe yelled once more, waiting for a clear shot at the van. Trove cringed as the first two shots rang off the bumper of the van. The third hit the van’s back left tire dead on, blowing it off completely. “Now pull up beside them!” Smythe shouted as the van began swerving uncontrollably from left to right. Trove accelerated as they matched the van’s speed, driving parallel to its right.
The driver of the van peered at Smythe as they drove up beside him, rolling down his window and pointing a gun at them with his right hand. Trove glanced over at him long enough to catch his sadistic smile.
“Shit!” she screamed, immediately slowing down as the driver’s shot rang off the front of the car, nearly missing the veteran agent beside her.
“Quickly now, speed up!” Smythe yelled. Trove once again pulled in beside the van, which suddenly began to swerve away from them and towards the waterway.
“Now!” Trove shouted, as Smythe trained his sight directly on the driver and shot a bullet into his chest. The driver screamed in pain, grabbing his chest and struggling to maintain any sort of control over the van. At that moment, Trove steered the car towards the van, cutting him off and forcing him through the aluminum railing. Smythe looked back only to see the van plummet off the road and into the water.
“He was dying for a swim,” Smythe remarked slyly.
“One down…” Trover uttered under her breath, trailing off as they sped up behind the second van. The street continued straight ahead, running parallel with the waterway.
Suddenly the back doors of the second van flew open, revealing two henchmen and a machine gun turret. One of them manned the turret while the other loaded his shotgun, both intending to blow their car into pieces. Smythe flinched as the man at the turret opened fire on their windshield, but the all of the bullets ricocheted off of the windshield without leaving a scratch.
“Bullet-proof glass?” Smythe cracked a smile.
“It comes standard,” Trove laughed, keeping pace with the van.
“Stay behind them, I’ve got an idea,” Smythe said, opening his door completely, creating a bullet-proof shield. He leaned over and out of the car, holding onto the handle of the open door and using it as a shield from the onslaught of ammunition that peppered the door. He waiting what seemed like forever for the turret’s magazine to run out of ammo, until he heard the familiar ‘clicking’ sound from the turret. Suddenly, like lightning, he aimed up through his open window and shot the henchmen at the turret twice, killing him. Smythe ducked back behind the open door once more, waiting a few seconds until he heard the blast from the second man’s shotgun ring off the door. Then he aimed again through the window again, taking down the second henchmen almost as fast as he’d taken out the first.
“Now drive up beside him!” Smythe shouted as he pulled himself back into his seat, sweat dripping down his face. Trove slowly accelerated, maneuvering the car up to the driver side of the van, matching its speed. The driver reacted quickly, opening his door and drawing his gun. “It was a pleasure working with you,” Smythe yelled to the rookie agent beside him as he slowly leaned out of the car, “but I work better alone. Au revoir!”
Before the driver could react Smythe leaped from the car to the van, barely grabbing a hold of the van’s open door. There he hung for a moment, struggling to gain any sort of balance and fighting off the driver of the van at the same time.
“Imbicile!” the driver yelled as he continued to steer as well as fight Smythe off.
“Getting off here are you?” Smythe yelled, barely clinging to the van. With a swift kick to the head the driver was out, and the van suddenly began to swing left towards the waterway. Smythe struggled to hang onto the open door, then pulled the unconscious driver out of his seat and onto the road below. Before the van could swerve off the road and into the watery depths Smythe swung into the driver’s seat and turned sharply to the right, almost cutting Agent Trove completely off.
Smythe, now in control of the van, motioned Agent Trove to follow behind him as he picked up speed, gaining on the black luxury car up ahead, which was still following the last of the black vans. No doubt Petrov’s murderer was in that car, and there was no way either agent was going to let him escape. Smythe glared at a two-lane tunnel up ahead, split down the middle by intermitted pillars. Suddenly, the black van ahead slowed down and dropped back behind the luxury car, a predictable move, in Smythe’s point of view. ‘The chase continues…’
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