[Lumina Lane | 0830 Central Time, Day 2]
Becks sat with Morgan inside a red Honda Civic SiR-II. He was waiting for a certain someone to pick his call up.
Which that someone did.
"Yo Sui, you got that boat?" asked Becks.
"Good timing," answered Sui. "I thought stealing a dinghy is gonna be harder than finding one, but turns out all the cops are busy dealing with something down at the port."
"Heh, just our luck. Any idea what that something is?"
Becks can hear Sui shrug on the other end of the call. "Something about illegal contraband, fuck am I supposed to know?"
"Yo, I'm just asking--"
"--and I'm just--"
"--answering. Yeah, yeah, do you have a boat or nah?!"
"Yes, I motherfucking do!"
"Thank you!" sighed Becks, Morgan trying to calm him down next to him as the conversation went on. "Just be ready when we get there."
"Don't screw this up Becky, otherwise Mendez is gonna kill your ass."
"Correction: both of ours. You better remember that Singaporean coast guard training or whatever it is."
"Hey, it's called the Police Coast Guard."
"Tch. Whatever you say."
And they both hung up. Becks turned towards Morgan beside him.
"You ready?"
Morgan straightened herself up. Becks could tell she was nervous. Who doesn't, especially when they were about to fake their own death?
"Yeah, ready. You got the driving, right?"
"Just 'cause I nicked the ride off the streets five minutes ago doesn't mean I don't know how to drive it," assured Becks. "I got this."
Becks pulled up across Cafe Aurores, which still (barely) stood in a devastated state. There was a massive, charred hole at the side of the cafe from the rocket that barely hit Mendez. Shards of wood and glass were scattered everywhere. The yellow police line was drawn over the scene, although not to the extent of blocking the entire hook the cafe was located.
As Becks slowed down the Civic, both he and Morgan spotted something from across their car, parked at the right hook of the intersection.
A jet-black Nissan Skyline GT-R.
Becks knew right there and then, the sedan belonged to the Blackpoint mercs. Even if he didn't get a look at the occupants. It was like Mendez predicted: BP would stake the cafe out in case Morgan--or any of Mendez' crew--returns.
There was a moment of calm as Becks eyed the stationary black GT-R.
"You think they saw us?" asked Morgan.
Becks saw the GT-R's wheels starting to roll as the sedan accelerated.
The GT-R then took an abrupt left turn towards Becks' street, its tires skidding as it did so. Becks' red car definitely had the GT-R's attention.
"Yup, they definitely saw us."
Becks jammed his foot on the pedal and turned 180 degrees.
But as he was in the middle of the arch, the GT-R shunted against the Civic's rear bumper!
The impact propelled the red car forward, launching Becks' car against the shops beside the cafe--
--only for Becks to swerve right at the very last second, barely missing the windows and clipping the left rearview mirror against a light post!
Applying countersteer, Becks realigned the car back on Lumina Lane.
The chase is on. Again.
As Becks entered left at an intersection, Morgan kept on checking behind her shoulder.
"Yeah, they are definitely on us!"
Traffic was starting to pile up as Becks took another left, but Becks can still spot the pursuing GT-R from his rearview mirror.
Right.
The black GT-R was a blur behind them, darting past and between traffic like a steel demon.
Left.
Taking turns weren't Becks' only concerns; he had to swerve around traffic as well. Not that it was a problem, as he was used to it during his AE86 (and GT86) street racing days.
Straight through a red light. Honks blared to his left, Morgan's shriek on his right, but none of that broke Becks' stride.
Although it didn't break the Blackpoint mercs' either, as Becks can still spot them from the mirror!
Time for a little detour. Right--into an alleyway. Big enough for his Civic, but not much room for anything else. A small nudge into the wall would send the car ricocheting uncontrollably against the alley.
And to no one's surprise, the black GT-R fit into the alleyway too!
Once Becks got to the end of the alleyway, he took a left.
From that left, he immediately entered an overpass freeway, swerving past a container truck as he did so. The freeway sign read 'Port Canol'.
Becks darted and swerved around cars and lorries like cones in a football dribbling drill.
And yet, shaking the BP guys off was hard. These guys know how to drive.
Right after he exited the freeway, Becks turned left towards a small bridge.
The bridge left behind, he took a right into a half-empty parking lot.
He made a tight squeeze through a sedan trying to reverse into a single parking space. Easy. The BP mercs behind him had to go the other way around the sedan.
Another left, and he's off the parking lot.
By now, both cars were already in the marina overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was a straight line comprised of two lanes going in opposite directions, with the lane Becks was in filled with shops, restaurants, and beach clubs directly hugging the coastline. To the front of these shops, the road. To their back, the sea.
Further down the road, Becks spotted a structure on the left side.
A construction site for what appears to be a bayside resort.
A great place to pull Mendez' tall order off.
Becks took a left into the site. Morgan noticed the BP pursuers doing the same.
In the middle of the construction site was a big rectangular structure that was to be the resort's main structure. The structure was so early in the construction phase, there were no walls yet. Only the concrete floor at its base and some frames around it.
Becks went around the structure towards the backside of the compound surrounded by a chainlink fence separating the site from the sea.
Morgan checked the rearview mirror. The BP mercs were gone.
She then looked to her right.
And that's when she saw the black Skyline!
It was on track to slam them from the right side, having cut through the main unfinished structure!
Becks threw the steering wheel left. But it was too late.
There was a collision. Direct hit on the red Civic's right fender.
The car lost its balance and propelled straight towards the chainlink fence in front of it...
"SHIT!" shrieked Becks as Morgan grabbed something from her pocket.
...and plunged straight into the sea.
***
Stopping just ahead of the waterfront, the two BP mercs exited their car to inspect the aftermath of the pursuit.
The sport compact car was already halfway underwater, its overturned chassis exposing all sorts of machinery underneath its red bodywork. It had turned into a death trap, and anyone trapped underneath all that hunk of metal has little chance of surviving.
Trey Becks might have survived given his dexterity, but Morgan Cassidy? No chance.
"Target vehicle is disabled, moving to sweep for survivors," reported one of the mercs as he assessed the scene.
Both mercs took out their weapons--M1911 pistols--and trained them at the water surface, daring for a living creature to pop out.
One second...
Two seconds...
Nothing.
Not even a hint of something beneath the water surface.
The two personnel lowered their weapons. "No hostiles in sight. Target neutralized," reported one of them.
They went for their black sedan. Both Morgan Cassidy and Trey Becks have been taken down. Mission accomplished.
***
"HAH!" exclaimed Becks as he gasped for air.
Everything was wet, and he meant that in the worst way possible.
As he frantically waddled on water, he looked for a way to get onto solid land.
Which he found to his left, in form of a metal ladder that led to the marina.
He then looked beyond, to the construction site where he was shunted into the water earlier.
The black Skyline GT-R is still there. The pesky BP mercs, nowhere in sight. Now is his chance to make his escape. Even if they spotted him, they would need to get out of the car to get a good shot at him.
Becks' hands reached the metal ladder rungs as he made his ascent. Halfway through, nothing.
Ten rungs to go, he heard noises from the construction site.
"He's still alive!" Becks heard.
"...target's on the move, engaging!"
Those BP mercs found him, alright.
BANG! BANG! BANG! went the mercs' guns.
clang! clang! clang! went the bullets ricocheting from the metal ladder.
"Fucking hell!" hollered Becks in reflex as he lost his footing, now effectively dangling from the ladder.
But his arm managed to reach upward and clutched another rung.
Moments later, Becks had reached the top of the ladder, landing himself by the road.
The shooting stopped. Becks figured they were reloading.
As Becks pulled himself onto the curb, water dripped from his clothing onto the pavement. His white zip-up hoodie was soaked like a towel. He can still magically feel his phone in his capri pants, but he doubts it survived the entire sinking ordeal. Mendez had better replace this one.
Becks looked to his right, where the construction site was.
There, he saw the black GT-R skidding in his direction. They are still on him.
Exploding with pace, Becks sprinted forward towards the houses lined up at the right side of the road. Most if not all of the houses are beachside condominiums with sleek minimalist designs and most importantly for Becks, low fences.
To the right corner of his eyes, the black GT-R gunned for him like a metal ebony beast fueled by pure fury. Becks figured, if the GT-R had eyes, it would have glowed red by now.
But by the time the GT-R had reached his position, he had made his way across the road.
Becks effortlessly vaulted over the beach condo's low fence. He dashed through the side of the house, making his way towards the backyard past the owner's pool party whose participants were at the front gawking at the gunshot sounds from the construction site, vaulted past another low fence...
...and found himself at Syrene Canals, which he'd always thought was a direct copy of California's Venice Canals.
Becks immediately spotted a longboat cruising lazily on the canal's shallow waters.
Determined to make more distance from the terror that is the GT-R, he leaped onto the longboat and landed with little problem.
The only ones with problems were the occupants, who started to march on Becks demanding him to tell them what he's doing there.
That is, until the GT-R burst out of one of the houses' fences and barreled straight towards the longboat Becks was on!
"Gotta be fuckin' kidding me," mumbled Becks to himself as he turned towards his escape--the other side of the canal.
Becks sprang out of the boat, mumbling to himself as he did so.
"If I can reach the boat from the side easy then I can reach the side from the boat--"
CRASSSH!!
The GT-R had planted itself into the boat, splitting it in two and sending wooden splinters all over the canal--
--but Becks had made it to the other side of the canal, hanging on a metal ladder with his left hand!
Becks flipped the BP mercs off with his free right hand as they struggled to exit their totaled vehicle. "Your car's turn now, bitch!"
Climbing up the ladder, Becks quickly made his way off the canal towards the streets--passing through yet another fancy beach house-- and stole a parked SUV to completely shake off the BP mercs from his trail.
***
Turns out, Sui's mandatory coast guard training kicked in pretty quickly.
He was able to pilot the dinghy he stole in little time, and now he was right beside the overturned red Civic--seconds after that black BP GT-R ruptured through one of the beach houses' low fences.
But this isn't a salvage operation.
It's more like a rescue operation, with Morgan being the objective.
Sui leaned against the side of the dinghy, searching for Morgan under the water surface.
No dark silhouettes, dark figures, nothing.
"Shit," cursed Sui silently. Looks like he's going to have to do a little diving after all--
"Kyle!" called a familiar voice behind him.
It was Morgan, wadding on the surface with an underwater respirator on hand!
"Holy shit, you made it!" exclaimed Sui as he went to help Morgan up the dinghy. "I-I mean, I was about to get in there--"
"--don't worry about it," assured Morgan as Sui heaved her up the rubber boat. "I can swim."
"Yeah, but that respirator did the trick, otherwise you wouldn't be able to stay underwater until those BP goons leave the place."
Morgan was soaking wet and completely out of breath, but very much alive. "I guess we better leave too..." she said in between heavy breaths, "...before they have the bright idea of circling back."
Sui powered up the dinghy. "Yeah."
The boat circled around the San Laureola coastline, sticking close to the waterfront while maintaining a wide uninterrupted arch to keep its momentum towards its destination--Port Canol.
"You know, I'm sorry about the cafe," remarked Sui as he drove the dinghy. "Never got to say that before."
"Don't be, I know this was gonna come anyway," reassured Morgan. "It's just that I didn't expect it to come this soon, you know? Then again when are you ever going to be fully prepared when it comes?"
Sui thought about it. No one in Mendez' crew expected the day to come, not even Mendez himself, and he seemed to be the only one knowing what he's doing.
"You uh, mad at Mendez for dragging you into this mess?"
Morgan stayed silent for a moment. Maybe she mumbled something, but it was hard to tell amidst the loud whirring of the dinghy cruising the water.
"I am," she finally declared. "But I know for a fact he's gonna make things right. Mendez is a lot of things, but one thing for sure, he always sees things through. No matter what."
[Port Canol | 0915 Central Time, Day 2]
After hitching the boat at the pier, Sui dialed Becks on the phone.
"Are you sure Trey's phone will still be intact after all that water?" asked Morgan.
"He put it in a waterproof phone pouch. I told him to, anyway," answered Sui as they wait for the line to connect.
It connected.
"Tch, not as dumb as I thought--Yo!" greeted Sui.
"Yo, forgot the phone's in this waterproof thingy. Fuckin' hell, I was about to ask Mendez for a new phone," said Becks.
"Of course you did. Listen, package is secure--or whatever you wanna call it."
"Where you at?"
"I'll send you a location."
"A'ight, look out for a white Pajero."
"Plate?"
"I dunno."
"Fuck are we supposed to know it's you, then?"
"What am I, an Uber driver? Not like I saw the plate when I jacked it, alright?"
"Oh, that car's stolen. Great."
"So you'd rather take an Uber, then?"
"Course not! Just pick us up at the location."
"That's what I thought. Try not to get into trouble 'till I get there."
Sui closed the call.
Morgan Dawn Cassidy is officially dead, at least according to the BP database. Cause of death: drowning following a vehicular accident.
There goes Mendez' tall order off the list. Now to focus on BP.