Chapter 15:
The helicopter hit by the searchlight quickly pulled up and moved away.
The pilot was in shock!
He thought the two bullets were aimed directly at him.
But...
It was beautiful.
Boom!
After flying through the air, the Maserati made a hard landing on the bridge opposite the Manhattan Bridge.
Wesley, in the co-pilot seat, was hit by various objects.
Firefox had the idea of shooting the helicopter pilot dead.
But...
Doing so would only incite the wrath of the NYPD.
Last year, a police officer's death had led to the entire force canceling their vacations, locking down the city until the murderer was found and dragged out of hiding.
"Damn it."
Firefox was irritable: "How did it suddenly turn out like this?"
It was supposed to be a straightforward task; how had it devolved into this chaos?
Wesley, clutching his forehead, was suddenly stunned, staring at the white light in the rearview mirror that seemed to rise from the ground. His eyes shrank, and his face was horrified: "He's following."
Firefox quickly turned to look.
Behind them!
The silver Audi R8 swept across the sky like a giant bird, thudding against the bridge deck, now at a 90-degree angle, and then landing smoothly.
Advanced driving, extraordinary!
"Shit!"
Firefox fired directly at the grounded Audi R8!
But...
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
Countless bullets collided in mid-air and fell harmlessly.
"What?"
"Spear throwing?"
Firefox was stunned, then withdrew his gun, stepped on the accelerator, and accelerated again: "How could he throw the spear?"
Spear throwing had always been a signature skill of the Brotherhood.
To put it bluntly, those who could throw spears were all Brotherhood killers. Learning to throw spears and then leaving meant only one thing: death.
Locke smiled softly.
Shocked?
That's good!
I'm here to catch you.
Boom!
With a flick of his right hand, Locke holstered the silver dancer and put his hand back on the steering wheel. Then, the accelerator roared, and he chased after the Maserati that had just landed, shedding parts in the process.
But...
Leaving the Manhattan Bridge, there were still many spectators.
At the very least, another police helicopter was rumbling, its propeller turning, as it approached from Manhattan Island. Simultaneously, the sound of another helicopter grew louder, almost overwhelming.
"Suspect escaping via the Holland Tunnel!"
"Deploy police forces!"
"Quick!"
"Blockade!"
In the NYPD command center, the director was fuming, especially after learning that the news had already spread, with multiple helicopters broadcasting live. His anger spiked even more when he recalled that he had just checked into a five-star hotel where his mistress was waiting.
"Damn it."
The director roared: "Notify the SWAT team and have them deploy!"
"They've been notified, but it will take time for the Manhattan Bridge to come down!"
"..."
If the two cars were allowed to pass through the Holland Tunnel into New Jersey, it would be New Jersey's jurisdiction, and the NYPD would lose face.
Boom!
Boom!
On the road, the red sports car was speeding, with the silver coupe behind in hot pursuit.
Like a cat chasing a mouse.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
"Fuck!"
"Ah."
Locke drove with one hand, his other hand resting outside, seemingly hearing Firefox's exasperated voice.
At that moment.
Locke glanced out of the corner of his eye, mastering his six senses. Then, a blue Raptor pickup truck drifted into place and roared past Locke's drifting car.
Cross!
Locke sat in the cab, watching the man driving the Raptor pickup in front of him. He raised his eyebrows, moved the corner of his mouth slightly, and murmured a name.
Cross.
Not dead yet.
Locke floored the accelerator, ending his drift, and chased after Firefox, who had gained a 200-meter lead.
With a blank face, Cross turned his car around and started down the road again.
"Headquarters, another one has joined!"
"The license plate number is..."
"The car's owner just called the police, saying a man pointed a gun at him and stole his car."
"Fuck!"
In fact, Cross had been hiding at home.
He had planned to get in touch with his son, Wesley, and warn him that pretty women lie and that Firefox wasn't interested in him but rather in Cross himself.
But...
Before Cross could act on his plan, he saw the emergency news broadcast, recognizing his son in the chaos. His heart sank, and he rushed to the scene.
Now.
Cross had arrived.
If Firefox were in trouble alone, Cross wouldn't help; he might even try to capture Firefox, who had ruined his son's life.
His son had a good life before.
What was wrong with a little infidelity?
To live a good life, sometimes you had to endure a little betrayal.
Boom!
The Raptor pickup was full of power.
With Cross joining the chase, the scene on the streets of New York was chaotic: a fiery red Maserati leading, followed by a silver Audi R8, and a blue Raptor pickup bringing up the rear.
"Big news."
"This will be the front-page news in New York tomorrow!"
News reporters in helicopters were ecstatic.
They leaned out of their helicopters, trying to get closer shots of the high-speed chase below.
At this moment.
George was rushing to the scene.
After hearing that the suspect had flown over the Manhattan Bridge, George immediately thought of the Holland Tunnel. He changed lanes and raced towards it.
George had already seen the three cars flashing past at the end of Eight Hundred Miles Street.
Boom!
Through the rearview mirror, Locke glanced at the expressionless Cross in the Raptor behind him and frowned.
MMP!
Brotherhood, you dare challenge me head-on?
Who gave you the courage?
Locke's body shook. He squinted his eyes, felt the force of the Raptor's impact behind him, and thought, his left hand holding the gun, stretched out, and fired!
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
The silver dancer shot instantly, three bursts. The first bullet hit the right rear wheel of the Maserati, followed closely by the second, and the third.
Instantly.
The Maserati's right rear wheel struck!