Chapter 108: Go Daddy Go (1/2)
The dragon cop let out a mighty roar, and the robber centurion answered with a spear to the eye.
Wyvern deflected the projectile with her scaled hand, the spear’s shaft snapping in half on impact. Determined to fight the LAW, Mars continued with his attacks, assisted by Sparrow. The Olympian and his accomplice launched javelins and lasers at the dragon above their head, while Mortimer outpaced them to chase after Ryan’s Plymouth Fury.
Wyvern, or Dragon Mom to friends, swiftly deflected the projectiles by zigzagging above buildings. Ryan watched her trying to find the right angle of attack, but she couldn’t open fire in a populated street. Unlike the Augusti, she wanted to avoid casualties.
A Private Security helicopter also joined the chase, though it was still too far away from the Plymouth for Ryan to identify the pilot. Probably nobody he knew.
“Take the wheel for a time,” Ryan said, as Mortimer gained ground on them. The hitman grabbed a shotgun from beneath his cloak, moving to the Plymouth’s right.
“You’re sure?” Felix asked, clearly uneasy at the idea. How couldn’t he be? Ryan’s car was a kingly throne on wheels, a sun that would burn the unworthy.
“I wasn’t talking to you, kitten,” the courier replied, as the car’s autopilot took over the driving wheel. Ryan moved to the backseat to get a better view, gun in hand, and aimed at his pursuer—after raising the right back window of course. “Stick to the baby seat.”
The courier froze time, and pulled the trigger. Ryan hoped that the hitman’s power wouldn’t work well in the frozen time, but to his frustration, the projectiles phased harmlessly through the criminal.
When time resumed, Mortimer closed in on the right, aimed at Felix, and pulled his shotgun’s trigger.
“Get down!” Ryan shouted, both he and his unwilling sidekick lowering their heads. The blast shattered the car’s front right window, but thankfully missed the passengers. The blowback almost tossed Mortimer off his motorcycle and forced him to pull back for a few seconds.
At this point, the Plymouth Fury left New Rome’s nightlife circuit and dashed into the Strip. Glitzy casinos and luminous establishments illuminated one side of the street like temples to consumerism, with hordes of gamblers, fixers, and players coming from all around Italy to worship them. The peaceful waters of the Mediterranean bordered artificial beaches and palm trees on the other side.
As the pursuit moved from narrow streets to a massive four-lane, Wyvern finally had the space to return fire. She unleashed a fireball at Mars and Sparrow from above, only for the former to summon a dozen medieval shields in midair. Dragon Mom’s projectile melted the steel wall, but her flames couldn’t hit the killers behind it.
Mars teleported a futuristic rocket launcher into the palm of his hand, which Ryan immediately recognized as Vulcan’s handiwork. The Olympian released a volley of fist-sized homing missiles at the dragon and forced her to blast them away in the skies.
The chase continued, the Plymouth Fury and its pursuers slaloming amidst other vehicles, moving from one lane to the other without rhyme or reason. While Wyvern and Mars fought one another, Sparrow and Mortimer focused on Ryan.
Swearing to protect his Plymouth Fury from all harm in his Perfect Run, the courier reloaded his gun, only to notice something rolling from below the backseat. A white-furred demon, smelling of antidepressants and gunpowder.
“How long have you been here?” Ryan asked, surprised.
The plushie didn’t respond, an empty revolver within reach of its paw.
“You’ve been playing Russian roulette in my car?” The time traveler glared at his wayward fiend. “The backseat is for love, not war!”
“Are you talking to a toy?” Felix asked while peeking over his broken window. He immediately lowered his head again to avoid a shotgun blast.
Ryan focused back on the car chase, and froze time again. Instead of firing at Mortimer himself though, he played dirty and targeted his vehicle’s wheels. The hitman couldn’t possibly keep his entire motorcycle intangible, or it would sink into the ground.
Ryan was right.
The bullets hit.
When time resumed, the motorcycle abruptly veered off course as its wheels deflated and threw its rider off its back. A surprised Mortimer phased through the ground as his vehicle crashed into a casino’s revolving door.
Ryan wondered if he would respawn like racing games contestants, but poor ol’ Mortimer didn’t come again.
Sparrow picked up the pace though. While Mars teleported Vulcan-made rounded bombs between himself and Wyvern to keep her at bay, Sparrow raised a hand in the Plymouth Fury’s direction. Thankfully, she looked far less experienced with a motorcycle than a Mercedes and had trouble aiming.
Ryan tried to shoot her, only to realize that his gun’s barrel was empty. He almost reloaded before a better idea crossed his mind.
“I always wanted to check something,” the time-traveler mumbled to himself, as he tossed his gun away.
His kitten at the front panicked. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Upgrading my arsenal.” Ryan grabbed the Plushie with both hands, and to his relief, the depressed abomination didn’t cut them off on the spot. The Plushie didn’t say a word as the courier raised it Simba-style in Sparrow’s direction.
Ryan moved his thumbs behind the rabbit’s ears, and pushed.
The Plushie’s eyes unleashed a bright beam of light as its ears lowered, while Sparrow returned fire.
Two streams of energy collided amidst the four-lane. Now, having watched countless movies, Ryan expected a massive explosion, or for both beams to cancel each other out. Instead, they slightly undulated but still crossed through one another.
Unfortunately for Ryan, Sparrow’s laser hit his car’s roof and vaporized it, turning his Plymouth Fury into a convertible. The plushie’s gaze melted the concrete road and blew dust all over the four-lane, but the hitwoman managed to veer out of its path. A civilian’s Ferrari car drove off the road in an attempt to avoid the devastation, hitting a palm tree on a nearby beach.
“Dammit, not even a bright flash!” Ryan complained as he raised his thumbs, briefly stopping his assault.
At this point, the Private Security helicopter had caught up to the racers, its side gate opening to reveal a passenger. A beautiful Japanese woman in a tight, blue costume with a badge and a hat.
Wardrobe, in a fabulous traffic cop uniform. The Law had never looked so good.
Ryan watched on with fascination as she brought a whistle to her lips and used it. Almost all vehicles in the vicinity shone with a golden glow, as Wardrobe asserted her authority. Sparrow’s motorcycle, Mars’ own bike, civilians’ cars, and even bicycles, all abruptly stopped in the middle of the road.
The Plymouth Fury’s autopilot still worked though, callously violating traffic laws. Soon, it left its pursuers behind in the dust.
“She can search me anytime,” Ryan said as he looked at Wardrobe with longing. He immediately beat himself over it. Must… stay… faithful… to my First Lady! He imagined Livia in a cop costume slamming him against his car’s hood, and it solved the issue.
Wyvern immediately fell down on the Augusti like a falcon on doves, barring their way. Sparrow took a tail swipe to chest and ended the race face-first on the ground.
Mars, meanwhile, leaped from his vehicle and switched his rocket launcher with a thermal lance. As he jumped within ten meters of Wyvern, he immediately summoned bombs inside the dragon’s throat, her neck expanding like a toad’s.
It didn’t kill her. It didn’t even behead her, as her throat contained the blast. If anything, Wyvern looked more pissed than hurt as flames came out of her maw and nostrils.
Her enormous hand reached for Mars, the thermal lance snapping as it impacted her thick scales. Her claws almost closed on the Olympian, but a shockwave propelled him upward above the road and let him slip through his foe’s grasp.
Ryan watched on with confusion as the flying Mars materialized a shield while in midair beneath his feet. A new shockwave erupted around his boots, pushing both the Genome and his shield into different directions. Wyvern attempted to catch the escaping Caporegime with her fangs, but he quickly summoned swords inside her eyes in response. Dragon Mom let out a roar of pain as a fountain of blood flowed down on her face. Mars used repeated shockwaves to leave his foe in his dust and pursue the Plymouth Fury.
The courier quickly realized what was happening. Mars was teleporting pressurized air beneath his iron boots, and the blowback propelled him forward.
Wardrobe’s helicopter flew down to intercept the centurion wannabe, while Wyvern’s eyes seemed to partly regenerate from the damage. Unfortunately, Mars reacted faster than the heroes. He summoned bombs close to the Private Security helicopter, destroying two of the blades and cracking the windshield.
Wardrobe almost fell off her vehicle as it spiraled towards the ground. Wyvern immediately moved to catch it with two hands, while holding Sparrow prisoner by squeezing the hitwoman with her tail. Wardrobe managed to hang on to Ryan’s relief.
However, the Dynamis reinforcements remained behind, leaving Mars to pursue the Plymouth Fury unmolested. The Olympian used repeated shockwaves to ‘jump’ in the air, summoning shields to orient himself.
“Kitten, we aren’t shaking off your daddy issues just yet,” he warned his sidekick, before pushing the Plushie’s ears. The rabbit unleashed a beam of energy at Mars, but the Olympian zigzagged between the waterfront and the casino to dodge.
Unfortunately, the centurion seemed to have run out of conventional weapons to launch, and he moved on to bigger stuff. He dropped a Renault Espace French car on the four-lane, and though the damaged Plymouth Fury avoided a collision, the impact blasted part of the walkway to pieces.