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  Marc started laughing. “Yeah, and you believed that shit! This is why you’re fun to play with, Nia. Because you’re gullible as shit! Why do you think I told you to make sure he brought Romedrux along? This shit ain’t got nothing to do with Hudson! It never did! She’s the one we’re after!”

  “Huh?!” Chelsea gasped. “What do you want with me? I’m…I’m like, nobody! I’m just a scientist!”

  “Wrong, baby,” Marc retorted. “You’re the brains of Corp Hudson. Not only that, you’re talented. Your family has a long history of developing weapons and making advancements in the realm of human performance enhancement. You’ve always been something of a prodigy. Graduated from college at the age of sixteen, moved into research in your twenties, and now you’re researching for the biggest, most powerful defense contractor in the world, and you’re not even thirty yet. You’re as special as it gets. And as of right now, you’ll be working for me.”

  Chelsea shuddered. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Marc rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you again. Get in the fucking car. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “Or what? You’ll s-shoot me?” her voice started to crack. “Yeah right. You obviously want me alive or you…you’d have totally killed me already.”

  Marc raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Chelsea felt a vibration through her head as the gunshot’s boom echoed.

  The frames of her glasses snapped apart from the side and fell to the ground at her feet in pieces.

  A tear began to leak from her trembling green eyes.

  “Bitch, I can put a bullet anywhere I want to,” Marc growled. “Trust me, there are plenty of ways I can shoot you without killing you, but I guarantee it’ll hurt like a motherfucker. Don’t even try to play tough. The only thing you got going on is that big brain of yours. Soft little thing like you trying to act hard. You believe this shit, J?”

  Chelsea felt a nudge at her feet, and she glanced back at Billy Casey, who was still lying on the ground near her. His boot was tapping at her ankle.

  Marc approached. “Let’s go, doc. Time to move on. You and me got a lot to discuss.”

  Chelsea grimaced, then opened her hand holding the attaché case. It fell to the ground and popped open like a book. At the same instant, Billy shoved himself from the ground and grabbed the contents of the case—an oblong rifle with a curved shape and a prism inside its barrel.

  He pressed the button on the grip and a white cylindrical beam throttled from the weapon, smashing into Marc’s chest!

  Marc flew backward from the force and crashed into the ground. Jesús immediately turned in his direction.

  “Sir!”

  “Stop them!” Marc roared.

  But before Jesús could react, he was hit by a similar blast, struck in the back and sent flipping to the ground, his rifle swirling away.

  Nia looked at Billy as he aimed the weapon at her.

  That weapon…it’s just like the thing I stole from that laboratory last week. In fact, that’s the same gun!

  “Kevlar,” Billy grinned. “Unlike some people, I came prepared for a situation like this. Now you’re on the ground, and I’m on top, again, all thanks to the Romedrux Crasher particle beam rifle. A little contingency Chelsea brought along just in case. It’s a good thing Vincent managed to get the prototype back from you before you could hawk it, huh? How do you like the finished model?”

  Nia sat still, waiting for him to make his move. That’s right, Billy. Do your thing. Keep talking.

  “It’s been fun, Nia…” he said as he raised the rifle, lining up the barrel with Nia’s head. The weapon began to make an unsettling hum as light started glowing from inside it.

  Shit. Too soon…

  “Billy!” Chelsea screamed. “We gotta get out of here!”

  “Not until we finish them off!”

  “No! The Crasher’s only set to incapacitate! I didn’t have time to reconfigure it! They’re going to get back up! We’re outnumbered! We gotta call Mr. H and get some help!”

  “Fuck that! She’s dying today, and I’m gonna do it! I don’t need any of them damn drones to help me!” Billy growled.

  But Chelsea grabbed Billy by the arm.

  “Dude! Get me out of here now! Didn’t you hear what that big guy said? They’re after me! Do you know what Mr. Hudson will do to you if you let anything happen to me?!”

  Billy grunted, then sighed.

  Marc pulled himself up and snatched his dropped pistol from the ground. “Fuck! That shit hurt! Yo, J! Get your ass up! They’re getting away!”

  Jesús Alvarez obeyed, climbing to his feet, collecting his rifle. Marc opened fire toward Billy and Chelsea, but they already made their way behind the construction site and Marc’s shots only struck metal beams.

  “Jesús!” Nia hollered, still grounded and clutching the wound in her belly.

  Marc turned in Nia’s direction, shaking his head.

  “J…kill her. I got no more use for her.”

  “But sir! She’s…how can you do that to your—”

  Then they all heard Chelsea’s car, a pitch black Porsche, peel out. Marc and the others watched as it zoomed away from the construction site.

  “Fuck!” Marc griped. “Come on!”

  Jesús Alvarez gave Nia one last lingering look, then rushed to the driver’s side of their Viper. Marc climbed into the passenger side, checking his pistol as he did, and the two drove off after Chelsea and Billy.

  Nia lay on the ground, wincing in pain, alone in the dust and gravel.

  What the fuck just happened…? Nia thought. Marc was after Chelsea the whole time. Chelsea! But why? What’s he want with her…and how did he shoot like that? He popped Billy in the chest before he could even move; I couldn’t even see Billy when he was running around! And he broke Chelsea’s glasses with a bullet, without even nicking her face! Whatever Jesús is on, he must be on it too…no, there’s something else. Marc made me look like a fucking amateur. What was Jesús trying to say…?

  Nia finally climbed to her feet. The pain was starting to go away. She lifted away the makeshift bandage she’d made out of her blouse. Her wound was smaller than it was before. Strength returned to her body.

  She looked ahead and saw the black and silver motorcycle Marc loaned her. It sat untouched, shining in the morning sun…

  Beckoning her.

  I need me some answers. They ain’t just gonna leave me in the dirt.

  Nia tied the tattered shirt around her abdomen, dislodged her Baby Eagles from the pile of gravel and ran toward the sport bike.

  Thirty-Three

  Jesús Alvarez steered the Viper with precision, its powerful engine growling like a beast as he swerved around traffic and struggled to catch up with Billy and Chelsea’s Porsche. The Viper was the faster vehicle, but the narrow streets and multitude of intersections, as well as Chelsea’s lead, enabled them to keep ahead of Marc and Jesús by constantly turning.

  “Don’t you ever fucking question me again, Jesús!” Marc roared. “We don’t need Nia getting in our way anymore. She got Chelsea Romedrux out in the open. That was the plan. That was all we needed her for!”

  “Then why did we hesitate?” Jesús retorted. “I could have taken Casey out from a distance had you asked me to. But you would not let me. I thought that’s why we brought the rifle.”

  “You still questioning me?” Marc growled. “The rifle was a contingency. I wanted to give Nia one more chance…see if she had what it took to be a part of this. She up in there getting her shit punched in by a normal guy with a little medicine pumped into him…ain’t no way she’d stand a chance against the kinds of targets I’m gonna be going after once we’re up and running.”

  “And Casey? Why did you choose to spare him? Either of us could have shot him in the head.”

  “Hell, he beat Nia. I was thinking about asking him to sign up with me,” Marc sighed. “Lord knows Corp Hudson ain’t gonna be employing him for much lon
ger, from what you tell me about him. But he’s too pussy-whipped. Fuck him. Just get us close enough and I’ll get the boy out of the way.”

  “There was no reason to do that to Nia,” Jesús said. “She is a good person. She did not deserve this.”

  “‘A good person’?” Marc laughed. “The girl is barely in her twenties and she done already killed more people than most soldiers, robbed more companies than any burglar and probably been fucked by more dudes than the most turned-out prostitute. She ain’t worth a damn thing.”

  “You don’t know anything about her. She did what she had to so she could survive, without the guidance she needed.”

  Marc grimaced. “You got one more time to talk out of line. Watch the fucking road and shut the fuck up.”

  Jesús Alvarez flashed teeth, then turned the wheel. The car changed direction and pulled away from the chase.

  Marc grew furious. “Are you fucking crazy? Do you know what I can do to you?”

  “Yes sir. You can take away everything you’ve given to me. I know that you are the only reason I am strong. But she has become the only reason I care about my life, and I can’t sit by and watch you continue to treat her like she’s just some object. I would rather betray you for her sake than cross her for yours another second.”

  “I cannot believe this shit! The stuff I got pumping through your veins is supposed to help you repress that weak emotional shit…but Nia still managed to get you pussy-whipped after one damn lay.”

  “She is special, sir. You should know that. I would do anything for her. She’s worth it.”

  The Viper rounded a corner and sped forward. The two looked up the street. They saw Chelsea’s Porsche sitting idle.

  Chelsea was in the driver’s seat, looking straight ahead.

  Billy was standing in the passenger seat, sticking out of the car’s sunroof, holding the Crasher rifle. He had them dead to rights.

  Both Marc and Jesús stared in horror as Billy pressed the fire button.

  The beam of light throttled forth and struck the head of Jesús Alvarez…cutting through the windshield and searing right through his skull.

  As Jesús Alvarez’s eyes rolled back, the Viper skidded out of control, flipped sideways and smashed upside down into the front entrance of a grocery store.

  Billy nodded and sat back down in the seat. Chelsea leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips, shifted the car into reverse and drove away.

  Seconds later, the windshield of the mangled Viper flew away from the wreckage, forced off by an outstretched foot.

  Marc Benson tore himself free of the wreck and stood up. He swept himself off. His skin was singed from fire and smoke, but he had no marks or wounds.

  He glanced at the wreckage and looked at the blood pouring from the broken body twisted and mangled in the driver’s seat.

  Jesús Alvarez was dead.

  Marc glared down the street and looked at the slowly-disappearing plume of smoke, rising from where the Porsche once sat.

  He took a breath and started running forward. With each step, his muscles began to expand. Soon he was running so hard and so fast he was outpacing other vehicles, cracking the asphalt underneath his feet.

  Billy Casey laughed.

  “You mean to tell me that’s all we had to do? Put in a little code in this keypad and it turns the gun into a lethal weapon? Why didn’t you do that in the first place?”

  “Because,” Chelsea whined, “The whole idea was to bring in Nia Black alive, wasn’t it? The Crasher was meant to incapacitate them, but it can go lethal as a last resort. Those freaks…they dodge bullets. But they can’t dodge a sophisticated laser targeting system. I just wasn’t expecting him to show up. Alvarez, yeah, but…not him.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We got rid of the peanut gallery. Frankly I’m shocked he went down so easily. Now let’s swing back and get Nia before it’s too late.”

  “Billy, we already screwed up! There’s no way she’s still there! She’s totally on her way to Puerto Rico or something by now. We’re done!”

  Billy grimaced and looked out the window. Watching the surroundings speed by, he looked skyward and stared at the Hudson Tower soaring above the skyline, looming above everything.

  Billy took a deep breath.

  “Then let’s keep driving. Don’t go back, Chelsea. Let’s just run. I’ve got some cash tucked away and I’ve got a safehouse. Between your brains and my skills, we can start something new.”

  “You just don’t fucking get it, do you Billy? The minute you were assigned to executive security, you became Corp Hudson’s property. We know too much. We can’t run. We just need to go face the music. Either way—”

  “What’s that?” Billy gasped, looking through the rear view mirror.

  The two stared into the reflection with bulging eyes, looking at what appeared to be a large black man running down the road, jumping between, over and around cars…

  Gaining on them.

  “Fuck!” Billy growled. “Floor it, Chelsea! Floor it!”

  “Fine…” Chelsea griped. “But you know where I’m going.”

  “Whatever. Just go!”

  Marc’s heart rate was immeasurable. His eyes were glazed over, blank. His muscles expanded.

  He raced through traffic, running past cars and trucks and buses. He darted across the asphalt on foot, closing in on the Porsche.

  He slammed his feet into the ground, leaving cracks in the street, and lunged into the air. He outstretched a hand…

  And grabbed the roof!

  He curled his fingers around the border of the sunroof, clawing the roof with enough pressure to bend the chassis.

  Chelsea swerved the Porsche back and forth, speeding past red lights, frightening crossing pedestrians into staying on the sidewalk.

  Onlookers glared in shock at the sight of a muscular man wearing a vest and fatigues dangling from the roof by one hand, his legs flailing, pulled in the wake of the zooming vehicle.

  Almost as frightening and twice as loud was the motorcycle that zoomed right behind them at ridiculous speed.

  “Will you give it up?!” Casey shouted. “Can’t you see it’s not worth it by now?”

  But Marc wasn’t listening. All he knew was that Billy Casey just killed his longtime partner, associate…brother-in-arms. And he would make Casey pay.

  However, Marc lost his gun in the crash. He only had his bare hands. He just wanted to get them around Billy Casey’s neck.

  Logic no longer figured into his objective; only blind fury. And in his rage, he neglected the Crasher.

  Billy Casey did not.

  He lifted the rifle, watching as the desperate-looking Marc Benson did everything in his power to keep his grip. He brought his other arm about and managed to take hold of the car with both hands. Slowly, Marc began pulling himself up.

  “Shoot him, Billy!” Chelsea screamed.

  “Well isn’t this a sight…?” he muttered mockingly as the hum of the Crasher grew louder.

  “Billy! Just shoot him!” Chelsea bellowed again.

  “Here I am, face-to-face with the so-called ‘world’s greatest physical specimen’ …the ‘most dangerous man alive’… and he’s completely helpless. I do believe I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Casey pressed the button—

  Just as a bullet tore through the window in the back of the Porsche and struck the Crasher.

  The futuristic weapon jerked skyward on impact, the beam missing Alexander Black’s head by an inch. Sparks crackled everywhere as Billy frantically tossed the broken weapon aside.

  “What the…?”

  Two more shots sped through the glass-less rear opening, pounded into Billy’s Kevlar-covered chest and forced him back into the passenger seat. Billy clutched his torso, flashing teeth as he glared at the road behind them.

  He saw a motorcycle speeding toward them, a small woman at the handles with a Baby Eagle in her left hand, aimed directly at him.

  Nia Black.

>   The Porsche swung around a corner and sped through the uptown district like a missile. Nia kept chase, finally realizing what was going on.

  She’d thought Chelsea was merely whipping the car around the city, trying to shake Marc from the roof. But when she saw a massive, soaring building looming ahead, she realized they weren’t driving randomly at all.

  The chase was speeding directly toward the Hudson Tower.

  Marc Benson stood up on the roof of the Porsche. He held his balance amazingly well, considering how fast the car was moving. He glared down at Billy Casey and Chelsea Romedrux, and got ready to force his way inside the car through the sunroof.

  But Billy and Chelsea didn’t look worried. Marc wondered why they were so confident.

  Then he looked ahead, and saw a large metal beam careening toward him—an overpass that stood over the driveway leading inside the Hudson Tower’s front lot.

  Marc dodged out of the way in an instant, but when he did, his center of gravity shifted and he finally fell from the car roof, flung by the sheer force of the swift-moving vehicle. He tumbled and rolled on the ground, and by the time he caught himself and bounced back to his feet, Billy and Chelsea had already leaped out of the car and rushed toward the soaring skyscraper’s executive entrance.

  Marc fished in his pocket, but found his gun was gone. He realized he must have lost it when his Viper crashed or while he was running. He was empty-handed.

  Marc sighed and started walking toward the Hudson Tower. He stopped in his tracks though, when a black sport bike growled into the lot and skidded to a stop right in front of him.

  “Where you going?” the young, beautiful and battle-scarred female rider grunted at him.

  Thirty-Four

  “I got a better question, Nia,” Marc shot back. “What the hell are you even doing here? Ain’t you had enough yet? I mean, fuck…you weren’t strong enough to get your revenge for Kim. Jesús is dead so ain’t no point holding out for him to come back to you either. They ain’t after you anymore. So why don’t you do what you said you was gonna do and just run your ass away?”