Chaper II

"Frozen?" I asked, stunned. I was at the First Bank of New Vice--there I stood at the teller's window, unaware of what to say or do. I was in deep in a big way and apparently, the VCPD didn't want me to go anywhere because of it, "Can't you check again?" I asked the teller, for the umpteenth time,

"Mister Rae, I've checked your account over and over again, and by federal order, your account has been frozen." said the frustrated teller. I sighed, and ran my hand through my hair. I wasn't kidding when I said that I was royally fucked. I reluctantly thanked the teller and left the bank. Since I had escaped police custody, I had become on the edge of paranoid. Looking left and right everywhere I went. I was dazed and confused at what was presented to me. I was the prime and so far, only suspect in my brother's death. Sighing, I cautiously approached my '86 Sabre Turbo which was in the parking lot of the bank and got in. Turning on the ignition, the first thing that I picked up, as the car stereo came to life was the VCNR News Report, and the top story was my brother's assassination, with my escpae on top of it. I had felt betrayed... betrayed and framed, the only problem was, I didn't have the slightest clue as to who was behind it. As I sped out of the bank's parking lot, my cell phone rang--I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the caller ID. Flashing on the LCD screen of my phone, was; "Ryan.", God, I had forgotten about her. I flipped open the phone and held it to my ear, "Hello?" I asked,

"K-Kaden." muttered a tearful voice, "Kaden, what... w-what happened?", I had no time for her crocodile tears, especially not over the phone,

"Listen to me, Ryan. You are the last person that I want a speech of regret from." I said, gruffly, "Besides, I'm innocent. So, you're wasting your time on me." I prepared to end the call, forcefully, but before I could she got one final word in.

"No. No Kaden wait." she said, "I-I believe you. I know that you're innocent--I want to know what happened, who could do this to you?" I was stunned, "Listen. Come by my place, I know that you're on the run. Please Kaden, let me help you." that was when it struck me; this seemed too easy. Either Ryan was really being stupid enough to harbour a running convict, or this is all a trap being set up for me, by the VCPD, for the feds, or whoever else is trying to find me. However, the only hole in the logic behind the latter was the fact that no one knew about me and Ryan. At least as far as I know. Then and there, I decided to accept her offer of refuge,

"Alright, Ryan. I'm coming over." I said, "But if this is a trap of some kind..."

"No." she responded, "I would never do that to you.", it still seemed to me that she was laying it on a little thick... but I was desperate. As I cruised down the streets of Ocean Drive, I noticed something out of the ordinary. Lurking behind my Sabre, driving to a near crawl was a black Landstalker. I didn't know what to make of it, but after five years in the Marine Corps, I learned to take notice of a lot of things normal people might miss. The windscreen had a dark filter on it, so, it was difficult to make out who was behind the wheel, but I could tell that there was someone in the passenger's seat with them. I began to pick up the pace in my Sabre, and it looked as if the driver of the trailing Landstalker noticed, because the next thing I knew, he was quickly swerving into the nearest left-turn. He knew that I knew that he was following me--whoever he was, he was smart. I picked up even further; I was pushing fifty, but I had to slow down at intervals considering that I was in a thirty-five zone and I wanted to avoid interaction with the las much as possible. I knew that every cop in the city had an A.P.B. on me. As for the men in the Landstalker that were trailing me, I had a sneaking suspicion that they were going to find themselves close to me, once more. I pulled up in front of a stop light, and waiting for it to turn green, I anxiously tapped at the steering wheel. Once again, something appeared off, as the stop light seemed to be taking longer than usual. As if nothing else could appear out of the ordinary, I was taken by complete surprise, as speeding out of the alley that was on my left, came the familiar, black Landstalker. It pulled up in front of me, then the passenger's side window rolled down an inch or so, and the barrel of a 9mm semi-automatic, complete with suppressor poked out of the now ajar window.

I was only able to slip out an "Oh shit." as I ducked beneath the dashboard for cover, because that moment was all I had, as no longer than a second after I ducked, a shell fired from the barrel of the handgun flew straight through my windsheld and whizzed just above my head, being stopped by my driver's-seat headrest. One more shot was fired, followed by another and another, until soon, the shooter had fired no less than eight shots. There was then a dead pause... he was waiting for me to raise my head so that he could get off a fatal shot... however, I couldn't stand in this position for ever... I knew that some attention had to be attracted and a cop would be more than likely to approach my vehicle and the second he would see me, it woulf be over. I had to think, and I had to think fast. I remember the pistol I had taken from the rookie during my escape, but I was going to blindly shoot at someone, that I didn't even know was still there or not. I had to get out of there somehow. In a fit of desperation, I grabbed onto the steering wheel from my lowered position and stepped onto the gas pedal... I was going to have to drive right through these guys. My tires screeched against the asphalt of the road and my car sped forward. The next thing I remembered was the sound of crunching metal as I thought that I had hit the Landstalker. I poked my head out, and noticed that I had indeed forced my way past the Landstalker. I soon sped off, the front bumper and grill of my Sabre barely hanging onto the front of the chassis. However, I wasn't rid of my attackers. Pulling up to my right was the Landstalker--this time, the passenger's windor was rolled down all of the way and I stared the shooter in the face, as he aimed his pistol right at me. This time, however, I could see exactly who I had to fire at, so I snatched up the rookie's pistol from the passenger's seat and took aim, before letting off some shots of my own at my attacker. Soon, he and I were trading bullets in a high-speed, side-to-side chase down Ocean Drive.

I could see the holes in the side of his vehicle, and figured that I had to be hitting soe part of his body. Then, he fired a shot that managed to clip me; the round propelled itself into my shoulder and I shouted out because of it. However, I got one up on him, as I fired one last round of my own. Even though my now unsteady arm had caused the bullet to completely bypass the shooter, it managed to somehow nail the driver right in the temple. I counted that as pure luck, but I accepted that victory, no matter how it came. With no driver to keep control of it, the Landstalker spun out of control and careened towards the direction of the beach. After ploughing through a concrete wall the seperated the beach from the road, the SUV fumbled over the sand and into the water. I sped off, feeling a slight sense of victory, but the chunk of lead lodged into my shoulder kept me from feeling anything too significant. I dropped my pistol, as I felt my arm give way. I was a fucking goner, if I didn't get help soon.

--

I knocked on the front door of Ryan's beach-side condo. I clutched my right arm in agony, sweat running down my face and neck. If I didn't get help in the next few minutes, I was going to collapse, and shortly after, die. Ryan opened the door in a panic. She screamed my name, and I waddled into her apartment, groaning.

"My God, Kaden, what happened?" she asked, while examining my shoulder-wound,

"Someone... tried... to k-kill me..." I spat out, throwing my sweaty, bloody heap onto her sofa. She commanded that I get to a supine position, which I did. In my blurry vision, I saw her run into her room, then re-emerge moments later, a kit of some kind in her hand. She set it down and opened it--it was a surgical kit, "You're a surgeon?" I asked in my groggy state.

"Yeah... you would've known that, had you actually gone out with me." she said, a smirk on her face. From her kit, she grabbed a bottle of surgical alcohol, a scalpel, a lighter and a pair of latex gloves. She slipped on the gloves, followed by her cleaning around the area of my wound with the alcohol and a cotton swab. She picked up the finely sharpened scalpel and held it to the area in which the bullet was lodged in my shoulder. The next thing I felt was what I could appropriately describe as a blade slicing at my skin, followed by a sharp yanking in my arm. I held in breath and screams of pain throughout the entire ordeal. The last thing I heard before I knew it was over was the clink of a 9mm bullet being dropped into a small, metal dish.

"Shit." I said, before blacking out for a moment.