The speeding chase of motorcars roars beyond the street for Neva, as Rhett accelerates faraway at a thundering velocity.
The slippery street makes it harsh for the gang to keep up the race.
"Drive Faster!" An infuriated Ishmael growls at Zev.
"Got it." Zev answers, shifting the gear. His features expresses bitterness of Raka being deranged after a mere woman, abandoning his duties.
Neva over her shoulder, glances behind.
They were closer, her hold on him tightening.
The vehicles tearing the street, booming noises gushing out, the silhouettes mirroring in the rear-view mirror on his bike, Rhett expedites the speed of his adventure tourer.
"Damnit! Get Out!" Ishmael shouts, searing with anger.
Zev furrows his brows, accusing him for the confusion. "What?''
"I said fucking get out!!" Ishmael's growl has Zev's to twitch the lips.
He stops the car in an abrupt halt.
As Ishmael walks out Zev vacants his seat, then he takes off with the car alone.
Zev left behind ceases one of the SUV controlled by their man and gets in.
Ishmael thunders away, advancing the rest, ticking away resembling a gale.
Ishmael coursing faster, his eyes ahead, Rhett accelerates the speed of his motorbike, rumbling away further.
Rhett reaches a two-way street. The left path is void and free.
The right path has a huge truck layered in snow, still and broken lying against the fallen serried of trees on the side, reminding one of a tragic accident probably caused because of the tricky, slippery snow road.
Rhett finds a slitting way, enough to let his bike through, and thus, he slips towards the wonderway.
Ishmael constrains the break, having reached the same path of the broken truck. He grits his teeth, the silhouettes appearing smaller and fainter.
Reversing the car, he slides ahead through the opening of the trees he discovers.
Neva closes her eyes, her breathing in tatters, praying to let the chase to catch a halt.
Bewildered of the booming echoes, Rhett glances behind, coming in contact with Ishmael's eyes. And along his side, he endeavours to drive, paralling the same pace as his.
Rhett smoothly overpasses him. And Neva feels her heart thundering in her ears.
Rhett finding way, he switches to the left street through the trees, squandering not a second, accelerating at a greater speed.
He presumes, Raka previously drove uncovering way between the shallows of the trees.
Ishmael doesn't give up, he catches up to them, navigating through the same route. Violently, Ishmael crashes the road with his speed.
Ishmael seems inhumane in Neva's eyes. She just wants this horrid lark to come to a stop.
There again, Ishmael's men steers after.
Rhett hauls out the six-shooter, quitting the thought of an action Neva wouldn't find the most appeasing, he now, opts for violence.
His left hand on the motorbike, he glances at them behind. His arm stretched out, a pistol gripped, he aims the gun at Ishmael.
BANG!!
Neva flinches, her eyes shut tight, shuddering at the grumbling noise of the gun, so close to her.
Ishmael ushers the wheel to the right, grazing the iced street, creating a shrill noise.
The bullet pierced the armored back door of the car. Skillfully dodging the bullet, he stabelizes the vehicle, scheming to destroy the motorbike.
The gang, pulls out their own submachine guns, rushing to end the rally. Nonetheless, their boss sees through their options. "No Firing!" Ishmael warns, hinting their move through the ear piece.
They retreat immediately.
"Surround the bike." Ishmael commands.
He plans to have Rhett, left with no possibility other then to stop his bike.
Gunning down Rhett seemed appealing, lest he didn't have Neva with him.
He did not want Rhett's control over the motorbike to go astray, leading Neva being heavily injured.
Rhett does not have time to refill the bullets, he could only rigorously use the remaining ones.
He aims yet again, at the gang.
Another firing echoes, as Neva shuts her eyes in strain, gripping Rhett harder for her dear life.
CRASH...
The bullet pierces through a driver's head, as the SUV in the fore violently jerks, losing it's balance.
The windshield shatters at the force–the fragments of sharp splintered glasses hits the eye of the man on the front passenger's seat.
The man controlling the vehicle behind bulges his eyes, he attempts to avoid the skewed SUV. To no avail the SUV coming after darts at an unkempt speed.
BAM...
The SUVs' crashes on each other—sandwiching him between the one at the fore, arising a havoc in the midst of the vehicles.
Three of the vehicles destroyed, five chases in the rear.
Rhett manifests himself as an archangel of death.
The slithery and glassy street, fortuitously assisting him.
Poising the motorbike, Rhett gazes at the convex mirror. Without needing to turn his head, he positions the firearm.
The bullet without fault hits the motorist, the consequence of the black SUV speeding forwards now deranged crashes with the trees.
Rhett perceives the two vehicles, sprinting unswerving maintaining a linear balance. His unparalleled witty and rapid actions, wavers the high ranked asssailants, bleeding them out to death.
Zev finds six out of nine SUV's in a catalysm.
The armored vehicles could not live up to Rhett's beastly innovated bullets.
His face pales, the glass of the windscreen cracks, resulting the car to move messily in a plight. The man controlling the vehicle has been shot.
He bleeds out frantically, mumbling jumbled words.
Zev handles the steering wheel, he removes the bleeding man's feet off the brake and presses it, getting the car to a stop.
"Fuck! He got hit!" One of the two men on the back seat curses.
Zev presses his hands on the wound, attempting to stop the blood oozing out. Shot at the heart, the blood pressure dropping, he starts losing consciousness.
Ishmael connects to Zev. "Are you hit?"
"I'm not but—" Zev replies, "Then fucking not act like it!!" He screams through the ear piece, cutting Zev's words off, sensing the vehicle still, at one place.
"Raka—" Before Zev could continue, Ishmael disconnects.
Betwixt the command of his Boss and the instinct of reversing the car to save the dying comrade, Zev's expression hardens.
"What do we do?" One of the man behind inquires. Glancing at the wounded man, Zev utters oaths.
"Help him get in the back. I'll end this chase of cat and mouse." The two men, offers aid, they place the injured man in the back seat.
"Compress the wound. Stop the flow." Zev says, and the man squeezes his hands on the wound, following the instructions.
Zev replaces himself from the passengers seat, proceeding to take control.
---
Peering behind, Neva sucks in a sharp breath.
Rhett made a chaos, the snowy street, mercilessly bloodied.
"Raka You Bastard!" Rhett groans, perceiving Ishmael still strong on the road.
He gets to a trivial path, at the end, moving up a high hill slope. Gazing straight it's a dead end, a warning sign of danger written in a board stamped crooked deep in the dirt.
"Are we riding up?" Neva queries uncertain.
"Grab on to me firmer Neva." Pressing the brake, he rolls the handle bar, reverbing a rumbling sound.
Neva clutches onto him tighter—as Rhett releases the brake, accelerating up the high ground.
The three remaining cars, arrives at the same path. Ishmael leading forward, steps on his gas, mounting up the elevation.
"Chief it's too late." One of the man inside Zev's car sighs. "Jayden's not breathing anymore." He removes his hands which were pressing on Jayden's clothed wound.
"Chief it's the dead end. We might even begone before we reach up the surface. That guy has the upper hand being up there." The man on the other side says.
Zev grits his teeth. Sure Rhett might have the perks of the situation right now. It does not mean they will leave Raka fighting alone and retrieve like a fool.
He grips the steering wheel harder, they fall back to their seats—ascending up. He aims to master this adventure.
Showing up on the top of the high ground. Rhett gazes at the nothingness. The frosty air colder and sharper.
Their ears perks up, the noise of a roaring engine approaching.
The SUV comes darting at their face. Rhett and Neva on the motorbike, stark against Ishmael.
Rhett had reloaded the gun, a clear aim, his form visible through the windscreen.
Bang...
Rhett fires the gun.
Ishmael, having seen through him, the tire produces a screeching noise—he's swirling the steering wheel to the right, harshly spinning the vehicle around.
The rear of the SUV on their sight of view, it comes to a stop.
Causing Neva to hold her breath, her heart to quickening it's beats.
A gun in each of their hands, pointed at each other's head Ishmael emerged out of the car steps closer with his jaw hardened.
Rhett had gotten off the bike, so did Neva.
He monitors his moves. Every little details, including the twitch of a muscle in his jaw as his eyes falls on the delicate woman standing behind him.
And the way his darkened eyes contained a tint, having you shivering; for he seized a part of hell's cruelness in them.
Neva peeks at Ishmael, as he stands there in a distance, gawking at them, making anxiety gnaw at her.
"What do you want?" Rhett interrogates, the gun positioned static to Ishmael's head.
"We meet again, Agent Czar."
Her shaky orbs travels between the two...
Indistinguishable features, much the same heights, yet Ishmael seems slightly broader in built and Rhett slightly taller—and their voices differed.
They utter words hinting they are definitely not stranger to one other.
Interrupting her stiff thoughts, the two rumbles of SUVs arrives at the scene.
Swiftly they step out, bearing weapons.
They give the two men a perplexed look.
The young man snatching their Boss Raka's woman is a man, who harbours an uncanny resemblance of features as him.
'What in the World?' They could only crease their foreheads and quite still.
Zev remains collected, since he was with Raka at the time he looked into Rhett's life. Concluding with the fact, he actually does look alike Ishmael and not a counterfeit douchebag.
Although, he was not able to bring an answer to why they are the way they are. It's not impossible for them to not have a blood relationship.
"Let Neva go." Ishmael states.
"She's mine Raka. You don't dare hurt her!" Rhett avers, his gaze stoned and cold.
Ishmael raises an eyebrow, not paying heed to any of his words.
"Come here, Neva." A bland expression, he tilts his head, stealing a glimpse of Neva, as she endeavours to appear meager.
Rhett caresses her hand, assuring she's safe with him, all the while keeping his eyes static on Ishmael.
"Leave his side!" Ishmael furrows his brows, she's still behind that man.
He faintly breathes out, she moves not a muscle.
It hurt, like he was stabbed straight in the heart.
And Neva failed to read those eyes.
He lowers the weapon in his hand, trudging forwards in a slow pace.
His men, hustled with the guns, propelled at their direction.
"She's not going anywhere." Rhett asserts, starting to move back along with Neva.
He had to leave Ishmael dead.
It was difficult. Raka wanted to take Neva away from him, he wrecked his mind to find a way to kill or escape without a bloodbath of their own.
Her pupils quivers at his sight. Her eyes travels around, six armed man behind Ishmael having them on a gun point. If Rhett shoots Ishmael, they would be rained down by his men.
A burbling, babbling sound of water clashing with the rocks, echoes the hush morning. One could presume, the water to be flowing by the rushing sound it makes. A river deep running enough to not be frozen still in this cold.
"Stay. Back." Rhett warns, as Ishmael doesn't cease his steps.
"Rhett, are we going to jump?" Neva whispers, their feet dragging in reverse.
He doesn't respond, for he cannot be sure of how deep or shallow the water is. Nor what habitats there, but at this moment, there seems to be no other way.
"Neva!"
Neva flinches at his voice, shivering at the chilling tone.
"You must be kidding me," Ishmael scoffs as she doesn't responds.
"You're coming with me."
"Shut the fuck up!" Rhett long lost his cool, his body trembling in anger.
"I am talking to her." Ishmael clenches his jaw, his eyes boring a hole through Rhett's head.
"I hate to be what you want us to be. Let us go Ishmael." Neva finally declares her heart aloud, her hold on Rhett's hand tightening.
A swift in the air.
Bang!!
Ishmael fires at Rhett.
Ishmael couldn't even leave a graze on Rhett.
Rhett had jumped into the river seizing Neva. His swift instincts allowing him to evade harm.
The clashing sounds of their bodies with the water echoing.
Ishmael stands numb—and unmoving.
"Neva,"
Sensing his boss in a daze Zev commands the rest of their men.
"Get them! Jump in!"
Hesitating a little, yet they dive in the freezing water. Their heavy and brawny bodies battling with the cold, greenish river.