His Bugatti Chiron Super Sport tore across Fort Bennett Field, suspension humming as it devoured the uneven ground. Dust and gravel exploded behind the tires, the car’s engine screaming like a restrained beast finally unleashed. He leaned forward instinctively, eyes locked on the faint but unmistakable tire marks carving a path toward the exit ramp. Maria braced herself, one hand gripping the door, the other clutching the seatbelt across her chest. Her breathing was steady—but only because she forced it to be. “Lewis,” she said, calm but firm. “Focus. Don’t let anger drive.” “I know,” he replied without looking at her. “I’ve got this.” Behind them, the NYPD tactical van followed in tight formation. Inside, the senior officer stood braced between the seats, headset pressed to his ear. “Maintain spacing,” he ordered. “Don’t bunch up. Our objective is Samuel. Ignore everything else unless it blocks our path.” The junior officer driving nodded sharply, hands fluid