"Hold your breath, Leo!" Ray shouted.
The Dodge Charger roared, as if its V8 engine were venting the same fury as its owner. Ray leaned his body, guiding the car’s nose beneath the tail of the passing shipping container. A deafening sound of grinding metal filled the cabin as the car's roof nearly kissed the steel of the container. Scarcely inches from death, the Charger slid smoothly to the other side of the intersection, severing the sniper’s line of sight.
However, the relief lasted only two seconds.
"Dammit," Ray hissed.
Ahead of them, two black SUVs without license plates suddenly emerged from the darkness of an alley, immediately taking a broad position in the middle of the road. They blocked the exit completely. High-beam lights from both SUVs ignited simultaneously, blinding Ray’s vision.
"They were already waiting for us here," Leo’s voice sounded flat, though his breathing was slightly faster than before. "They are using a route prediction algorithm. They knew you would take this path."
"Algorithms don't account for human madness, kid," Ray shot back sharply.
Ray saw the doors of the SUVs swing open. Four men in tactical vests carrying short-barreled assault rifles climbed out, taking cover behind their doors. Their muzzles were trained directly on the Charger’s windshield.
"How many bullets can this glass take, Mr. Ray?" Leo asked, his fingers never stopping their dance across the tablet.
"Not enough to keep us alive if we just sit here. Hang on!"
Ray slammed the transmission into reverse with a movement so violent the metal groaned. He floored the accelerator. The car surged backward at high speed.
"What are you doing? There are pursuers behind us!" Leo yelled.
"I know!"
Ray watched the mirrors. The first pursuing SUV had already emerged from behind the container truck, speeding toward them. Ray was now caught in a pincer. A blockade ahead, and a pursuer with a sniper behind.
In a matter of seconds, when the distance to the rear pursuer closed to thirty meters, Ray executed a "J-Turn." He whipped the steering wheel with a powerful jerk to the left while tapping the brakes to shift the car's center of gravity, then released them and slammed the transmission back into drive.
The car spun 180 degrees on the wet asphalt with terrifying precision. Tire smoke billowed, mingling with the rainy mist. In an instant, Ray was facing the original pursuing SUV head-on.
RATATATATAT!
Bullets from the ambush squad ahead began to rain down on the rear of Ray’s car as it spun. The side windows shattered, but Ray was already racing back toward the initial pursuer.
"Are you going to ram them?" Leo asked, his eyes widening as the SUV in front of them loomed closer.
"No. I’m going to confuse them."
Ray drew his Glock, leaned his arm out the window, and fired three quick shots at the pursuing SUV’s headlights. Not to kill, but to force the driver into an evasive maneuver.
As predicted, the driver of the pursuing SUV flinched and jerked the wheel to the right. Ray seized the narrow gap that opened on the left. The Charger scraped against the body of the rival SUV, a horrific sound of tearing metal, but they managed to break through the initial encirclement.
"One problem down, ten more to go," Ray muttered, checking the mirrors. The two SUVs that had blocked the road were already turning around to join the chase. Now, there were three predators behind them.
"Mr. Ray, that blockade back there. They weren't police," Leo said. He held up his tablet, showing a feed from the Charger’s rear camera that he had successfully hacked. "Look at their movements."
Ray stole a glance. "I know. Diamond formation, layered cover, and the way they hold their weapons. That’s high-level military tactics."
"Are they Blackwater or something like that?"
"Worse," Ray replied in a dark tone. "They are the people who don't exist in official records. Black units."
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed from the rear. One of the SUVs attempted a PIT maneuver, clipping the rear corner of Ray’s car to send it into a spin.
Ray gripped the wheel with both hands, the muscles in his arms tensing until his veins bulged. He fought the momentum with full force.
"Leo, you said you can hack? Can you kill the streetlights ahead?"
Leo paused for a moment, his fingers flying over the screen. "The streetlight network in this district uses an ancient encryption protocol. Give me ten seconds."
"I’m giving you five, or we’re going to be roadkill!"
Ray saw the spotlights from the SUVs behind growing more blinding. A shooter in the passenger seat of a rival vehicle began to lean out, preparing to fire at Ray’s tires.
"Five. Four." Ray counted down.
"Almost. Just a little more." Leo murmured.
"Three. Two."
"I’m in!" Leo cried.
Instantly, every streetlight within a two-block radius went pitch black. Total darkness swallowed the street.
Ray, who had anticipated this, immediately cut his own headlights. Relying on the faint moonlight and his instincts as a former field agent, he wrenched the wheel into a small side street between old warehouses.
Behind them, the sound of a heavy crash and a long screech of tires echoed. Without streetlights and traveling at high speed, one of the rival SUVs lost control and slammed into a concrete utility pole.
"One down," Ray said without expression. "But the others are still there."
"You are truly insane," Leo said. There was a note of genuine acknowledgment in his flat voice.
"That’s the best compliment I’ve heard all week, kid," Ray replied. He pushed the car through narrow alleys, attempting to lose his tail. However, he knew this was only the beginning. Those hunters wouldn't stop just because of a little darkness.
Ray glanced at Leo. The boy was focused on his tablet again, the blue light on his face making him look like a ghost in the dark cabin.
"We need to talk about who exactly is hunting you, Leo. Before this whole city turns into a war zone."
Leo didn't answer. He just kept typing, while the red dots on his tablet screen showed that the enemy was still closing in.
Latest Chapter
Ch 27. The Concrete Labyrinth
Night in Chinatown was never truly silent. Under Level 4 lockdown, however, the remaining noise had thinned to the static hum of city loudspeakers and the distant thrum of helicopters circling overhead.Ray switched off the main headlight of his trail bike. He relied on the faint glow of red lanterns swaying in the night wind and the neon haze from restaurant signs that still flickered weakly, displaying Mandarin characters that looked like secret code in the darkness.Chinatown was a maze of concrete and red brick. Its alleys were narrow and twisting, often ending in dead walls or rusted emergency staircases. For police or mercenaries driving large vehicles, this place was a logistical nightmare.For Ray, it was protection.“Leo, check the sector ahead. Any heat signatures?” Ray asked. His voice was nearly drowned by the low rumble of the engine he kept idling quietly.Leo clutched his tablet tightly. Blue light from the screen reflected in his glasses and across his tense face.“Two
Ch 26. The Locked City
The concrete channel of the Los Angeles River stretched like an open wound through the anatomy of a dying city. Its slanted walls, layered with graffiti, reflected the roar of Ray’s dirt bike, creating echoes that seemed to chase them from every direction. Above them, the sky over Los Angeles was no longer black. It burned a murky orange, a blend of light pollution, smoke from downtown fires, and the sweeping beams of helicopters scouring the canal like the wrathful eyes of a god.Ray pushed the bike hard along the dry riverbed, swerving around stagnant pools of wastewater and piles of discarded tires. The wound in his arm burned now, each pulse of pain beating in rhythm with the engine’s revs. He felt Leo clinging tightly to his waist, the boy’s small fingers digging into his leather jacket until his knuckles turned white.“Mr. Ray! Up ahead!” Leo shouted, his voice nearly swallowed by the wind.Ray saw it. On the overpass spanning the canal, tactical units were fast-roping down, des
Ch 25. The New Rate
The sky along the eastern horizon of Los Angeles began to fade into a bruised gray-purple, a painful transition signaling that their night was nearly over. Ray brought the dirt bike to a stop beneath the shadow of an abandoned overpass on the edge of the warehouse district. The hiss of the overheated engine became the only sound in that isolated stretch of concrete.Ray dismounted stiffly. Blood had seeped through the bandage on his left arm, spreading into a dark red pattern across his leather jacket. Dizziness pressed against his skull, the cost of blood loss and fading adrenaline. He leaned against one of the bridge’s concrete pillars, trying to steady his shallow breathing.Leo climbed off behind him, his face looking ten years older than it should have. He glanced at Ray, then at Ray’s phone mounted on the handlebars. The Car Gow app was still active, displaying the coordinates in the middle of the Mojave Desert, now eighty
Ch 24. A Brief Interrogation
Dawn crept over the outskirts of Los Angeles, the air growing colder and sharper by the minute. Ray brought the stolen dirt bike to a stop in the shadow of a scrap container in an industrial waste yard. His breathing was heavy, each inhale slicing through his chest like a blade. The metallic scent of dried blood on his face and shirt mingled with the gasoline fumes rising from the still-hot engine.“Get off, Leo,” Ray ordered. His voice was hoarse, nearly a death whisper.Leo dismounted awkwardly, his legs trembling slightly as they touched the ground. He clutched his tablet as if it were his own heart. He watched Ray stagger toward one of the mercenaries Ray had dragged and tied behind the bike, a reckless move he had made while fleeing the warehouse to secure answers.The man in tactical gear lay facedown on a pile of discarded tires. He was still breathing, though shallowly, each breath punctuated by a gro
Ch 23. Dead-End Alley
The old warehouse felt like a vast concrete coffin. The scent of dust that had settled for decades was disturbed by the lingering heat from the tow truck’s diesel engine, which had sputtered earlier. Ray stood in the shadow of a rusted shipping container, regulating his breathing until it was nearly inaudible. His left arm, wrapped in bandages, was beginning to stiffen, but his fingers still gripped the handle of his Glock 17 tightly. “Leo, stay where you are,” Ray whispered into the small radio linked to Leo’s tablet. “They’re above you, Mr. Ray,” Leo’s voice trembled in Ray’s ear. “Their heat sensors are sweeping from the roof. They’re moving toward the vents.” Ray looked
Ch 22. Damage
The silence that settled after the SUV’s engine died felt more painful than the gunfire had. Beneath the massive span of the Sixth Street Bridge, heat shimmered from the warped hood, carrying the scent of scorched metal and the sickly sweetness of radiator fluid. Ray slumped against the torn driver’s seat and let his head hang for a moment. The adrenaline that had been hammering through his veins ebbed away, leaving behind crushing exhaustion and a throbbing burn in his left arm. He looked down at it. His leather jacket was shredded, exposing a deep gash from a .50 caliber fragment. Thick red blood seeped through, soaking into his shirt. “Damn it,” Ray rasped, his voice rough as sandpaper dragged across wood. He turned to
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