Arc V: Party Crashing

Part 7: Party's Over

Chapter 24

"This is incredibly sketchy," Scarlet muttered aloud as she maneuvered the massive cargo truck back onto the large industrial avenue that led towards the city's undersea tunnel. "What kind of idiot abandons a truck like this with the keys in the ignition?"

"That bear didn't abandon it because he's an idiot—he did it because he was setting a trap for us," Rena replied. "We need to get rid of that tracker."

"You don't say," Scarlet huffed, her already stressed attitude marred by her previous inability to clothe herself and change her fur color back to red. "I've been in this area before. There are a few places by the bay where we could park the truck and look for the tracker."

Rena shook her head. "Nope. If you really knew this area, you'd know this part of the city is the stomping grounds for the Kitanai Saga-shi¹ Warrior Clan. You don't want to stop for anything around here—trust me."

Scarlet glared at Rena with a raised eyebrow. "Kitanai what?"

"Eladard's most feared street gang," Rena explained. "Brutal, merciless, opportunistic—just like me. They're easy to spot. Part of their pact is that they dye their fur yellow."

"Are you telling me…?"

"Yeah, I used to run with them," Rena admitted. "I hated them, but given the choice of living with my dickhead dad, being underage and homeless, or being part of a gang, I chose the Kitanai Saga-shi."

"Well," Scarlet suggested, her voice reflecting a growing optimism, "If we run into them, maybe you can talk them out of bothering us."

Rena snickered. "Pfft. It's cute that you think that's going to work. Leaving the gang is a death wish, and they liked me just about as much as I liked them. If we run into them, there's only one thing that's going to happen: there will be bloodshed.²"

Scarlet nodded uneasily and refocused her eyes on the road ahead. "She knows what she's talking about. But what I am supposed to do? Rafa's henchmen are following our every movement, and we'll never be able to get the cargo to a safe spot unless the tracker is gone. If only we had…"

She halted her train of thought and glanced at Rena. "Do you have any weapons?"

"Of course," said the yellow vixen, "I have my pizza cutter."

A mixture of horror, disbelief, and barely suppressed laughter appeared on Scarlet's face at the same time. The resulting expression could have gone viral had a camera been nearby. "You're kidding me."

"Do not question the FARC. It's more deadly than it looks."

Scarlet strangled the steering wheel in an attempt to dispel her growing anger. "You know, in the real world where I live, when you need to kill something, you pick something that can actually do some damage. What are you going to do with that thing? Give someone a paper cut? Those things can't even do their one job correctly!"

Rena was unfazed, although her expression soured. "The FARC is not a normal pizza cutter. If you try to cut pizza with it, it'll slice through the cutting board underneath it, and then it'll slice through the counter underneath that too. Since you doubt the validity of my superb tool of death and destruction, I'll explain how it works, even though your fragile mind probably won't be able to handle it."

Scarlet's hackles rose. "You know what? I don't care, and I will never accept your stupid kitchen utensil as a weapon, but go ahead. Knock yourself out."

"Okay," said Rena. "The FARC³ is a spinning stainless steel disk with a polished edge and small channels etched into the side of the blade. That's so the blood and guts of my enemies don't get stuck on the cutting edge. The carbon fiber frame the wheel mounts to is fitted with a small oscillator that vibrates the blade as it spins. This makes it able to slice through almost anything, especially people. The actual spinning of the blade is operated by a dentist drill motor that's rev-limited so it doesn't cause the blade to shatter, and both the motor and the oscillator are powered by a compact 20v lithium-ion battery that slides into the grip."

Scarlet's mental lightbulb exploded. She stared at the road ahead, dumbfounded.

"See, I told you your fragile mind couldn't take it."

Ears flat against her head, Scarlet barked, "Why would you put so much effort into such a stupid idea? Instead of wasting all that time literally trying to reinvent the wheel, you could just buy a gun, shoot it at your enemy, and bang, they're dead!"

Rena chose not to respond. Instead, she stroked the frame of her pizza cutter and gently spoke, "Don't listen to her, my precious little implement of doom. You'll show her, won't you? Yeah, that's right."

"She's literally talking to kitchenware," thought Scarlet, "This woman is even more insane than I thought."

Choosing not to argue about the merits of a weaponized pizza cutter, she turned left at the next intersection which led towards one of the Eladard Bay's largest shipping areas. This included Felix's cargo processing area. Traffic was light on the avenue, which sloped downwards. She spotted the bay's waters in the distance, roughly a mile down the road. The traffic lights along the road remained green in the absence of any significant traffic, allowing her to reach the end of the street, which coincided with a narrower road that split off at a ninety-degree angle to the right.

Directly ahead was an unoccupied construction zone, complete with giant concrete pipes, cement bags, a boom lift, and a massive green dumpster. Rena paid little attention to any of this until Scarlet pulled straight into the construction area and stopped the truck.

The yellow vixen's back fur stood on end. "What the fark are you doing?"

Scarlet glared at her, a deathly serious look on her face. "Getting rid of that tracker. We don't have another choice."

Rena growled and clenched her fists, but offered no other resistance. She knew just as well as Scarlet that there would be no safe place to hunt for the tracker. So, while Scarlet killed the engine and jumped out of the truck, Rena matched her and sprinted around the back of the vehicle. She produced her pizza cutter and eyed the secured lock on the truck's roll-up back door. Pressing a button on her pizza cutter's handle, she waited as the blade spun up. After five seconds, the utensil reached top speed, creating a haunting whining sound accompanied by an ominous subtle roar.

While Scarlet looked on, Rena cautiously brought her blade to the reinforced lock. Scarlet expected the cutter to bounce off and possibly harm Rena, but to her shock, the spinning wheel sliced into the hard metal as easily as a katana through a chunk of fetid cottage cheese. Weird analogy, huh? Well, "like a hot knife through butter" is laughably overused, so deal with it.

The lock sheared in half. Wasting no time, Scarlet pushed up on the bottom of the roll-up door, being mindful not to touch the sliced metal latch due to the intense heat it held from the friction of the pizza cutter slicing it in half. The door rocketed upwards, revealing the back of a gray camouflage main battle tank with two sharp fin-like protrusions facing towards her. For a moment, she wondered how the barrel of the tank could possibly rotate due to the design, but after a closer look, she realized that the fins were attached to the part of the vehicle that spun.

"That doesn't offer a single advantage, but I'll be damned if it doesn't look cool. It'll probably scare people when it rolls into battle, at least."

Rena's voice redirected her focus back to where it belonged. "What are you doing? Come on!"

Scarlet clambered up the back of the truck's frame and jumped into the cargo space after Rena, who started scouring the hold for any signs of a tracker. Under any normal circumstance, such as device would have been a tiny, difficult to spot beige polygon tucked away in a corner of the cargo hold, but in this unconventional scenario, Rena quickly spotted the aforementioned beige rectangle in the front right corner of the hold thanks to a tiny black wire that ran from it and extended into a slightly larger but still tiny hole in the front of the cargo box.

Rena walked up to the tracker and glared at it suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" Scarlet demanded. "Smash it already!"

Rena held up a finger—her index finger, not the middle one. She wasn't that angry. "Something's fishy here. This wire—there's absolutely no reason for it to be here. These trackers are wireless and battery powered. This wire is leading to something else."

Scarlet looked over her shoulder, suddenly feeling unsafe. "What do you think it's leading to?"

"So, hear me out," Rena replied. "If the blue edgelord is right, the guy driving this truck was a smart dude. Not as smart as me, of course, but still pretty smart."

Scarlet rolled her eyes.

Rena continued, "I'll bet you anything he's got this truck rigged to blow if we cut the connection to that tracker."

"Can you disable the explosives, then?" Scarlet asked.

"Fark, you really are stupid!" Rena snapped. "I'm a computer science major, not a bomb disposal tech! What is this, a low budget TV show?"

"Close enough," Scarlet grumbled. "So, there's no way to disable the alleged explosives, and even if we could, we don't have the time to do it."

Rena nodded and frowned. "Great observation, Captain Obvious."

"Okay, then—we'll do this," said Scarlet. Before Rena could respond, she climbed up the side of the tank and jumped on top of the vehicle. She pulled open the top hatch and slid her feet into the tank.

"What are you doing?!" Rena shouted.

"Driving this thing out of here. Find the ramp controls for the back."

"You can't be serious!" thought Rena. Nonetheless, she obeyed Scarlet and looked around the cargo area for some kind of hydraulic lever. Nothing of the sort caught her eye, so she sprinted towards the back of the cargo box and jumped to the ground outside. She took a quick look around to ascertain that none of her former gang members had taken the opportunity to approach the truck, and to her relief, she saw no one within line of sight.

She made her way to the right side of the truck, where she spotted a series of four levers. A grim realization struck her.

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

Ignoring her lack of understanding, she fumbled with the levers until one of them began extending a thick, heavy loading ramp from the back of the truck. As it extended, she experimented with the knobs around it until one of them rotated the back of the ramp towards the ground. She gritted her teeth as she worked the controls, fearing that at any moment, disaster would strike out of nowhere.

After a single minute that felt like five, she maxed out the range of the ramp and stepped back from the controls. Seconds later, she heard the sound of the tank's diesel engine starting. Scarlet began reversing down the ramp as soon as the engine settled into a steady idle.

As the tank exited the truck, an idea struck Rena. A wicked smirk crossed her lips. She reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out a black permanent marker, then climbed into the back of the truck. While Scarlet cleared the loading ramp, Rena sprinted to the front of the cargo box and scribbled something below the tracker in the front right corner. She grinned even more than before, then jumped out of the truck and climbed onto the Landmaster. As soon as she positioned herself on the back of the tank, Scarlet rotated it and merged onto the road adjacent to the construction site. The vehicle picked up speed rapidly, reaching the 35-mile per hour speed limit with ease; although to be fair, no law existed that would have allowed a main battle tank to drive on a public road in the first place.

Holding onto a raised metal bump close to the tank's hatch, she looked over her shoulder in time to see a trio of yellow-furred bandits creep out of the shadows and approach the abandoned cargo truck.

Inside the tank, Scarlet gripped the drive controls while wedging her phone between her shoulder and her head. A series of dial tones reported from the phone's speaker, but no one answered.

"Come on, Felix. Pick up!"

Just before the call could go to voicemail, Scarlet's contact answered. "Hello?"

"Felix! Hey, there's no time to explain, but I need a big favor from you."

A faint groan came from Felix's end of the line. "What is it this time?"

"I need you to call the night guard at your shipping yard and tell them to be expecting a gray tank to roll up to the front gate at any minute."

"Wait wait wait—I didn't know your plan was to steal an actual tank! This could get me in a lot of trouble!"

Gripping the tank's controls more tightly, the blue-painted vixen pleaded, "Please, help me out here. The plan changed, and I'm coming up on your shipping yard. If I can't get in, bad things will happen. You hear me?"

"Hey, hey—you don't get to boss me around," the vulpine replied, anger tingeing his voice, "Fine—I'll get in touch with the guard staff. But I'm telling you, if this comes back to bite me, I'm going to make you pay. You got that?"

A tremor of fear shot down Scarlet's spine. For as long as she had known Felix, she had never witnessed him making such a direct threat.

"Sure thing, Felix." she acquiesced, her voice uncertain and shaky. "H…Hey, do you think you could maybe help me out with something else?"

"Oh, for crying out loud."

"No no no! It's not a big deal, I promise! Please, just do me a favor and call in a supply drop to the shipping yard. Send me my 'tactical' loadout. I'll be in your debt forever if you do it."

"In my debt forever, huh? Hmm, I kinda like the sound of that…"

"It's a figure of speech, Felix!"

"Fine, Scarlet. I'll get you that supply drop. But I'm telling you, you'd better not make me regret this."

Scarlet gritted her teeth. "I'll try. I'll be at the shipping yard in a few minutes."

- § -

Gunfire reported from behind the Vulcain as Pond maneuvered through the increasingly tight streets in the Eladard warehouse district. The increase in traffic and the number of traffic lights hinted at the chase nearing the undersea canal leading to the city center. Both Pond and Fox suspected that if they could reach that part of the city, giving their aggressor the slip would be easier, especially since they would be unlikely to fire their car's hood-mounted machinegun in a tightly packed urban area.

Then again, the undisclosed assailant's driving habits made that hypothesis uncertain. More gunfire came from behind Fox and Pond. Several rounds plinked off the side of the car.

The narrow road ahead indicated a shift away from warehouses and towards a large plot of antiquated apartment buildings, constructed by the first foreign residents of Eladard over a hundred years prior to the present date. Multiple side street openings jutted out from between the tightly packed apartments, with numerous cars occupying the street parking spaces lining the sidewalks.

Fox pointed towards the first side street to the right, only to realize that Pond had the exact same idea. The dapper amphibian glanced in his side mirror, then cut in front of a stopped car at the red light ahead. He dove into the side street at the last possible second, forcing the pursuing driver to slam on his brakes and come to a full stop in the middle of the intersection. The green car began reversing, but this allowed Pond to open up a sizeable gap between the two cars.

The side street eschewed the traditional road model in favor of winding cobblestone. Fox's teeth rattled as Pond rumbled over the rough road, narrowly dodging parked cars on the sides of the street. The ancient street offered only enough room for a single car to pass through it, and Fox feared the possibility of another car coming at them head on and forcing them to stop—or worse, for it to crash into them and allow the green menace to finish them off.

Another side street appeared to the left. At the same time, the light from a pair of headlights ricocheted off the side of a brick apartment from around the corner dead ahead. Pond stabbed the brakes and turned into the adjacent avenue—only to see a pickup truck puttering towards them from the end of the new road. Fox spotted another side street to the left which would allow them to avoid stopping for the approaching truck, but he realized that this road would lead back to the main avenue. Had the green menace followed them into the narrow, twisting cobblestone alleys? Nothing he could ascertain led him to believe that was the case. This meant one thing, and it filled him with dread.

"He's probably just waiting for us to come out of here."

The thought of telling Pond to stop the car and park it on the edge of the pathway crossed his mind, but he realized that doing this would do nothing to prevent his assailant from eventually finding him. If the Vulcain never emerged from the cobblestone labyrinth, the driver of the green car would doubtlessly move in to comb the area.

So, Fox said nothing. Pond turned left, in front of the truck. The pathway he turned onto was even narrower than the others before it and barely allowed the car to fit between the brick and mortar multiplexes lining the street. It sloped downhill, and at the end, Pond and Fox spotted the main avenue. However, they both took note of another side street directly across from their current one. It appeared to curve upwards and to the right. No other side streets stood out nearby.

At the end of the tight alleyway, Pond mashed the accelerator and sped onto the main avenue, ignoring the cross traffic that had every right of way. While Pond checked his visuals to avoid crashing into passing vehicles, Fox looked in his mirror in time to see the pursuing green car pull out from a street parking space with the sight of tire smoke and the ear-piercing sound of burning rubber.

Fox's heart rate spiked as Pond crossed through the intersection and entered the side street, slightly wider and more accommodating than the ones across the street from it. Unlike those, this stretch of road sported asphalt pavement. As Pond pulled into a sharp right turn and headed uphill, Fox noticed a yellow warning sign mounted on the side of one of the massive brick apartments that flanked the street.

"DEAD END."

He frantically looked over his shoulder, just in time to see two headlight beams bounce off the side of the building around the corner behind them. He turned to his driver, fear lacing his voice. "Slippy! The road ends!"

"Tell me shomething I don't know," the amphibian grumbled, his eyes not wavering from the road.

Refocusing his eyes to the view ahead, Fox jumped in his seat. As the sign suggested, the road came to an end with a small parking lot which concluded in a wrought iron civilian fence overlooking a wide canal. The vague outline of a statue representing a fennec fox jutted out from the other side of the water. Four vehicles sat in the parking lot: two subcompact hatchbacks, a beat-up commercial van, and an 18-wheel truck with a 3-level car trailer attached to it. Several vehicles rested on the bottom and middle sections, but not on the slanted, lowered top level.

Fox panicked. "Oh no. I know exactly where this is going."

Not letting up on the accelerator at all, Pond steered towards the lowered ramp of the car carrier and barreled up the metal surface. The sharp impact from the suspension shoved Fox forward in his seat. His seatbelt dug into his chest to the point of pain, but he had all of two seconds to think about it before Pond launched off the top of the car carrier and went airborne.

Fox stared out the windshield in horror. The water in the canal lapped below him and Pond, inviting them to an inevitable demise. For a brief moment, Fox wondered if crashing in the canal would somehow give him a better chance of escaping; but that thought evaporated as quickly as it came. The Vulcain cleared the water, but the angle of Pond's jump put it on course for the brass fennec statue in the courtyard on the other side of the canal. Fox gritted his teeth and gripped the right side door trim and the center console with such force that his claws dug into the leather.

"Slippy! Nooooooo!"

The car skirted the right edge of the statue, the left mirror coming within inches of the sculpture's right arm. But in two seconds, the Vulcain plummeted towards the stone pavers below. Eyes wide and fur on end, Fox held on for dear life. The car slammed to the ground, the suspension bottoming out immediately and causing sparks to fly out from the undercarriage. Pond stabbed the brakes and rolled the car to a stop in the center of the courtyard, then looked in his mirror. The pursuing car made no attempt at completing the car carrier jump. With the enemy no longer hot on their trail, both he and Fox rotated their heads and stared at each other in abject disbelief. Pond took a deep breath and exhaled it. When he finally spoke, his exaggerated accent disappeared, replaced by Slippy's standard high-pitched croak. "That was something, wasn't it?"

"You're telling me," Fox all but wheezed. "We've still got to keep moving. He's going to double back and try to make his way back here. Does the car still run?"

Slippy glanced at the instrument cluster. To his surprise, no warning lights presented themselves. The engine in front of the cabin purred quietly, its subtle rumble vibrating the chassis ever so slightly. "Looks good to me."

A giant breath escaped Fox's lips. "For once, something goes right. Let's roll."

Slippy nodded and let his foot off the brake. He eased the car forward until he reached a long, concrete ramp ending in a narrow asphalt street which led back to the main avenue. After descending the ramp, he accelerated and powered through the side street until he reached the avenue. Bringing the car to a halt at the stop sign, he looked both ways and saw nothing other than normal light traffic, with the pursuing green car nowhere in sight.

Not wanting to give the green menace another chance to pick up the chase, Slippy turned left onto the avenue and continued towards the nearby Eladard Bay tunnel. As the car reached the speed limit, Fox dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The instant he powered up the screen, his eyes were greeted by three "missed call" notifications—one from Krystal and two from Scarlet. Not having the slightest idea what either of them had been doing for the past twenty minutes, he debated which to respond to first. After a moment of consideration, he chose Krystal. Pressing the call button, he lifted the phone to his ear.

The blue vixen answered after a single ring. "Fox! Thank the heavens! I need your help."

"What's wrong? Is everyone okay?"

"I don't know," Krystal replied. "Rena and Scarlet took the truck carrying the Landmaster. I don't know what happened to them, but I'm stuck in a back alley somewhere with the van, and I don't have the keys. The black jackal had them, and…I think he's dead."

"Lucas? What happened to him?"

"We forced Desmond to pull over, and we chased him into a factory. Lucas tried to choke him out, but he had a jetpack and took off with Lucas still holding onto him. I haven't seen him since."

A look of confusion descended upon Fox. "Desmond? Who?"

"Oh, that's right—I'll need to fill you in on him, but not right now. Right now, I need you to get over here. I don't feel safe—I have a gun, but I feel like a squad of Rafa's goons is going to show up at any moment and shoot me."

"Try to stay calm. I'll head your way now. Do you know where you are?"

"No idea. A long, dark side street somewhere in an industrial district," Krystal replied.

Fox cringed, realizing that heading in Krystal's direction would require Slippy to turn around and head back up the avenue—which of course meant that running into the armed green car once again would resurface as a possibility. Pausing for thought, he explained to Krystal, "I'll be there as soon as possible—we're going to have to take an alternate route to get to you, though. We had a run-in with Wolf and his goons. One of them is still nearby. Don't worry about us finding you, though. Slippy equipped the van with a GPS tracker. Just stay where you are and lay low if you think it's not safe."

"Okay, Fox. Please try to hurry."

"I'm doing everything I can," Fox replied. "I'll see you soon."

As he closed the call, Slippy turned right at the next light, intending to take another right and head back towards the industrial area via a different avenue. Fox looked around, halfway expecting the green menace to make another appearance. When nothing happened, he scrolled through his phone contacts again until he found Scarlet. He took a quick breath and steeled himself for whatever was to come next. Then, he pressed the call button.

Several seconds passed before Scarlet's tired voice reached his ears. "This had better be good."

The way her voice presented itself to Fox implied someone who was absolutely done with the night and unwilling to deal with any more drama. Fox sympathized, although he suspected—correctly—that his evening had involved more danger than hers had.

He answered Scarlet. "I'm just calling to check in on you. Everything all right?"

Scarlet breathed out a heavy sigh. "Right here, right now? Yes, finally. I tried calling you twice, but you didn't answer."

Fox replied with a trace of bitter sarcasm in his voice. "Sorry about that—almost having my ears blown out from shooting a rifle inside a moving car makes it hard to hear things."

"Well, that's not my problem," said Scarlet. "What are you doing now?"

"Going back to the industrial area to pick up Krystal and the van. Why did you leave her there by herself, anyway?"

"Hey—don't start accusing me of stuff I didn't do," Scarlet snapped. "We caught up to the truck carrying the Landmaster and cornered it in a back alley. The driver jumped out, and Krystal decided to go after him instead of taking the truck. Rena and I got in the truck, while Hartmann's creepy jackal friend and Krystal went into an abandoned factory after the driver. I'm completely in the dark when it comes to anything that happened to them after I got in the truck and started driving."

"Where are you, then?" asked Fox.

"Sitting on top of the Landmaster in Felix's shipping yard."

"Wait, what?"

"The truck was being tracked," Scarlet explained, "The fastest way to deal with it was to back the tank out of the truck and drive it to the storage yard. It scared a few people on the road, but it worked out. I'm just glad this is over with."

"Don't let your guard down just yet," Fox warned. "I'll catch up with you later. Just don't create any new problems, okay?"

He waited for an answer, but was greeted only by the absence of sound coming from the phone. He pulled the device away from his ear, only to realize that Scarlet had hung up. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone and looked at the road ahead.

Several minutes later, Slippy pulled the Vulcain into the alleyway indicated by Fox's van tracker and traversed it until a stationary vehicle blocked it. The car's headlights danced across the back of the team's van and illuminated the figure of Krystal, leaning against its side. For reasons Fox did not understand, her outfit had completely changed since the last time he saw her.

The instant Slippy came to a stop, Krystal darted away from the van and made a quick mental scan of the car's occupants before exhaling and visibly discarding the tension in her body.

At the same time, Fox opened his car door and stepped out. He dug through his back pocket until his hand closed around the van's spare key. Pulling it out, he walked towards the van's left side door. However, before he could reach the van, Krystal approached him; and without a word, she threw her arms around his neck and held him.

Fox responded to her and patted her back, holding her for a moment before breaking away and moving towards the van. Climbing into the van's driver's seat, he inserted his key into the ignition and started the engine. Krystal dropped into the passenger seat next to him seconds later. While she fastened her seatbelt, Fox began turning the van around. Slippy mirrored him in the Vulcain. As the two cars began heading out of the alleyway, Fox glanced at Krystal out of the corner of his eye and said, "Looks like I've got some catching up to do."

The blue vixen nodded. "Seems like you've had an eventful evening as well."

"Not even the half of it," Fox grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I'll catch you up on what you missed, now that we have the time for it."

"I'd appreciate that."

- § -

Nearby, two Eladard police officers—a spotted male hyena and a female cheetah—stood near a wharf next to the Eladard Bay. Both craned their heads upwards, locking eyes on the tiny flame emanating from Desmond's jetpack as it ascended into the night sky. They stared at it in bewilderment until Desmond reached an altitude so high that the flames became borderline invisible.

"I don't know what it is with tonight, but something is up," said the hyena.

The cheetah nodded. "Dispatch was notified earlier about a security breach at the Red Group facility in Earle Park, and now we're hearing reports of gunfire and reckless driving in the area."

"Don't you think we should do something about that?"

The feline shrugged. "I'll be honest—I don't feel like putting my life on the line to stop some crazies who're going to end up taking themselves out anyway. Besides, we've already got a squad moving in to investigate. That, and if what I'm hearing is true, those drivers are going way too fast for my cruiser to handle."

"Let the paramedics handle the aftermath, huh? That's cynical of you."

The woman shrugged a second time. "I'm just saying, what good is stopping them if we both end up dead?"

"I dunno—becoming a PD legend sounds pretty good to me. You might even get a street named after you."

"Yeah, but you can't enjoy it when you're dead."

"Fair point, I guess. Hey, what's that?" The hyena spun to his left, seemingly fixated on a small object falling over the bay.

"What's what?"

"I think Jetpack Dude bought the farm," said the hyena. "You might want to look away. This is gonna be a rough landing."

"Oh no!" the cheetah exclaimed.

Not one moment later, both officers heard a loud "AAAAAAAAA" sound as a black-clothed figure plummeted towards the bay. The two looked away, not wanting to witness the moment of the falling person's inevitable demise. The instant the figure hit the water, a thundering explosion buffeted the airwaves, cutting the officers' hearing in half for a split second. A giant flash of blue lit up the night for the briefest of moments before it vanished. The enormous impact and sonic boom created a ripple effect roughly comparable to that of a dump truck falling from the same height. Instead of creating small ripples in the water, the impact whipped up a large, circular wave that crested the edge of the wharf, nearly flipping a speedboat anchored nearby. The wave crashed over both officers and soaked them from head to toe.

"What the actual hell?" the hyena snarled, flinging water off his fingers.

The cheetah said nothing, too stunned and terrified to even think straight.

The hyena officer clenched his fists and stomped towards the wharf as the raging waves gradually subdued. He put his hand on his handgun for a brief moment, but held off and looked around the area instead. He stared at the center of the ripples, assuming that the falling person had died on impact.

Behind him, his counterpart breathlessly asked, "What was that blast?"

The hyena looked over his shoulder. "That was not right. I don't know what it was, but I fully intend to…"

He took a rapid glance to his left, just in time to see a black-clothed figure drag itself out of the water and flop onto the concrete wharf edge.

"Hey you! Stop right there!" the hyena shouted.

The figure stumbled to his feet and stared at the officer. The hood over his head obscured his visage.

"Put your hood down," the officer ordered.

The figured complied, revealing his black and blue facial fur and black, dreadlocked hair.

The officer stepped closer to him. Once again, he hinted at drawing his weapon, but refrained. "Identify yourself."

Lucas made no movements, instead staring into the policeman's eyes without a word.

"Alright, so that's how you want to do this? Fine," said the hyena. He finally reached for his handgun and drew it. Pointing it at Lucas, he ordered the jackal, "You heard me. Identify yourself."

Lucas said nothing.

"Look, pal," the officer snapped. "I'm trying to make this easy. If you don't start talking, this isn't going to end well for you."

"The law doesn't require me to do that," said Lucas in a deadpan voice devoid of the anxiety that the situation would have induced in most other people.

"Actually, you're wrong," the officer replied. "I have reason to suspect that you have something do with the crazy shit that's been going down tonight. That gives me the right to make you talk. So, spit it out."

"With all due respect, nothing I can tell you would be of any interest to you."

"Oh hell no—I think you're of significant interest. Don't play dumb." the officer growled.

Lucas once again held his tongue.

"Okay, then—if you're going to play this game, I'm going to have to arrest you. Is that you want this to end?"

"No."

"Good. Then start talking."

Instead of complying, Lucas sighed and replied, "Look, I'm going to give you one chance to prevent things from becoming unpleasant. Turn around and walk away if you don't want to get hurt. I'm serious."

The sudden imposition on his authority sent the officer into a blind rage. Clutching his handgun, he stepped closer to Lucas with a swagger in his step. "Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm warning you. Back off."

"Hell no. Put your hands up and step forward. You're under arrest." He whistled, prompting his partner to step towards Lucas with a pair of handcuffs at the ready.

Lucas sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Well, you should've started talking sooner, dipshit," the hyena muttered, pointing his weapon at Lucas while his partner approached him with the handcuffs.

The jackal stared into the officer's eyes. "No—I'm sorry for what I'm going to have to do to you."

Before either officer had a chance to react, a haunting blue aura materialized around Lucas's body. His eyes began glowing bright red. Behind his head, a group of ghostly trails appeared in thin air. He lowered himself into a fighting stance with both palms held vertically in front of him. Small spheres of bright blue fire swelled on the surface of his hands, growing larger at a rapid rate.

"He's hostile! Opening fire!" the hyena shouted.

While the cheetah dropped her handcuffs and frantically reached for her sidearm, the hyena aimed at Lucas's chest and pulled the trigger, only for the weapon to make the dreaded "click" sound. Furious, he squeezed the trigger once again. And again. And again. Each time, no sound reported from the weapon apart from the same repetitive click.

He took his eyes off Lucas for the briefest of moments to stare at his malfunctioning weapon. When he looked back up, he found himself face to face with the suddenly phantasmal jackal. With no way to fight back, he screamed as Lucas pushed his palm into his chest.⁴ The blue aura fire emanating from the jackal's hands coursed through his entire body in the blink of an eye. The searing heat rendered his muscles inoperable. In less than five seconds, his vision faded out, and consciousness departed from him. As his body flopped to the ground, Lucas turned his attention to the other officer.

The cheetah stared at him with horror in her eyes. Her pistol shook in her hands, her finger quivering on the trigger. While she stared at him, Lucas stomped towards her, a stone-cold expression on his face.

"Please don't kill me," the cheetah whimpered. "I have a daughter—I have to be there for her."

For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a look of pained sympathy in the jackal's spectral red eyes. The next second, he swiped the gun out of her hands and darted towards her. The officer clenched her fists and punched at her attacker, but her attacks did nothing to prevent him from extending his hand and gripping her forehead with it. As with the first officer, blue aura fire consumed her, starting with her head. Mere seconds later, she crumpled to the pavement at Lucas's feet.

Sighing, Lucas shook his head and looked around. No one in sight—just what he needed. With the area quiet, he picked up the cheetah officer by the shoulders and dragged her to the side of a nearby concrete booth, where he propped her against the wall. He walked over to the hyena and did the same, placing his unresponsive body next to the cheetah's. He then picked both of their weapons off the pavement and slipped them back into their owners' holsters before kneeling in front of them.

He reached out his hand—this time no longer blazing with phantasmal blue fire—and touched the cheetah's forehead. "You won't remember any of this. I'm sorry for the headache you're going to have when you wake up, though." The feline murmured in her unconsciousness, but otherwise made no response. Lucas duplicated the process with the hyena, who made a similar displeased sound while remaining out for the count.

His work done, Lucas stood up and brushed off his shorts, then pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"The aura blast probably fried it. I really hope not, though. I could really use this thing right now."

He pressed the power button on the side to bring up the lock screen, but as he feared, nothing happened. The display remained dark. A defeated sigh escaped his lips. "Crap. Now I really need to catch up with Fox and his team. They're the fastest way for me to get in touch with the Boss again. I don't even know where they were going with that truck, though. What even happened to the truck, anyway? Did Desmond catch up with it?"

He clenched his fists in frustration and thought for a moment. One notion in particular stood out to him. "Of course—her."

Closing his eyes, he reached out with his mind, attempting to hone in on the thought patterns of a certain yellow vixen. Despite millions of people occupying the city, he figured that identifying Rena's thought patterns would be easier than locking in on anyone else's—and he guessed correctly. After fifteen seconds of intense focus, he felt the presence of the furious woman several miles from his location. He had a suspicion that he needed to move quickly to catch up with her, however.

Leaving the two unresponsive police officers behind, he sprinted towards the 'waypoint' indicated by his extrasensory perception.

- § -

With nothing standing in his way, Desmond sped through the air towards the GPS coordinates indicated by the Landmaster truck's tracker. His wrist interface pointed him towards an abandoned construction site near the bay, and when he reached it and looked down, he saw the truck. He smiled for a moment, but the smile vanished as quickly as it came when he saw the lowered loading ramp.

Nerves suddenly on edge, he dropped altitude and touched down on the asphalt behind the truck. At that moment, his every fear surfaced. Terror shot down his spine as he laid eyes on the empty cargo box. Disabling his jetpack, he sprinted up the loading ramp and looked around for any evidence of who had perpetrated the theft of the Landmaster. Yet, nothing caught his eye. That is, until he glanced at the tiny tracker in the front corner of the cargo box, untouched with its detonation wire still intact.

He noticed something below it. Stomping towards the tracker, he saw a short message written on the wall in black permanent marker.

"get rekt scrub"

For a moment, Desmond saw red. Letting out a furious snarl, he punched the message so hard that he ripped a hole in the side of the cargo box with his armored glove.

"This isn't over yet!" he declared to exactly no one who could hear him. "You may have won this round, but I will never be defeated!"

FOOTNOTES:

1 This is based on an awkward Google translation of "Dirty Cheater" into Japanese.

2 The Only Thing I Know For Real from the Metal Gear: Rising OST starts playing

3 Forward Action Rotating Cutter

4 Not literally into his chest cavity—although that would be pretty metal.