"In moments they'll reach you," the voice on the other line said calmly while Wingless attentively stood frozen. "Lead them away from the safe-house."
"Yes, Eli," Wingless replied without reluctance, as he awaited his next command.
"Go to Allen and 13th," the voice faded and then paused. "Smith is just under a minute away from your position." Pausing again the voice then commanded, "Leave now!" with elevated haste in his tone, "and make no further contact unless your exit is compromised."
In one motion, Wingless closed his phone, slipped it into his right shirt pocket and cascaded down the stairs, out the door and into the dark city streets. He accelerated left towards his destination less than a half-mile away.
Intermittent street lights worn with neglect passed faster and faster over his head. He adroitly ran as he heard Smith yell in a steadily louder pitch, "it's no use Mr. Lee! you're already caught!" Smith's footsteps began to whisper.
The Sirens too could now be heard gaining, but still far enough behind for Wingless to know with confidence that his heist would successfully conclude.
In even breaths, Smith ran at his greatest speed, but Wingless effortlessly maintained a steady pace just a few strides ahead. Through the barren streets that looked like tunnels, Smith chased but ceased to gain further ground on the figure dressed in white only strides out of his grasp.
Wingless turned a corner at a tall impoverished brick building and continued down a seemingly endless row of unlit streets. Despite his maximum efforts, Smith maintained but failed to gain on the white figure that reflected a now fading white light.
Suddenly, the figure vanished for a brief moment and then reappeared twice the distance ahead. Smith felt an unfamiliar look of confusion run across his face but continued at his top pace toward his target. A few seconds later Wingless again disappeared from Smith's view, but this time returning nearly an entire city block away.
Smith's backup could be heard gaining in the distance, but despite his known purpose, Smith began to believe pursuit of this apparition was futile.
Wingless again camaflauged into the dark air, this time failing to reappear. Smith stopped and looked forward, staring for a while and uttered a small sigh. The path behind Smith began to dimly illuminate from car lights as he turned back to greet his entourage. At that moment Wingless appeared inches from Smith's face, delivering a roundhouse kick to his neck before Smith's defenses could execute.
Smith fell instantly to the ground, looked upwards towards his assailant, but saw nothing but dark sky and the silhouettes of tall red seemingly abandoned towers checkered with black windows. Smith stood up bewildered and pivoted in circles, trying to locate his aggressor. He tried to listen to any noise behind the sirens that would help reveal his once prey. But was then again kicked to the rocky pavement, onto his front this time, leaving his legs paralyzed. He pushed up with his arms and looked backwards as quickly as he could react, but Wingless was nowhere. The streets were empty with people, only the now visible cars slowed to a stop in front of Smith who lay on the ground.
Agent Jones exited the driver's side of the dark vehicle that had its high-beams raining on Smith who remained on the ground. Walking circumspectly towards him, Agent Jones asked mechanically, "Dues wants to know if he had the list."
"We need to see the Merovingian," Smith responded. "Now."
Comments
Scene 2, "The Chase"
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"In moments they'll reach you," the voice on the other line said calmly while Wingless attentively stood frozen. "Lead them away from the safe-house."
"Yes, Eli," Wingless replied without reluctance, as he awaited his next command.
"Go to Allen and 13th," the voice faded and then paused. "Smith is just under a minute away from your position." Pausing again the voice then commanded, "Leave now!" with elevated haste in his tone, "and make no further contact unless your exit is compromised."
In one motion, Wingless closed his phone, slipped it into his right shirt pocket and cascaded down the stairs, out the door and into the dark city streets. He accelerated left towards his destination less than a half-mile away.
Intermittent street lights worn with neglect passed faster and faster over his head. He adroitly ran as he heard Smith yell in a steadily louder pitch, "it's no use Mr. Lee! you're already caught!" Smith's footsteps began to whisper.
The Sirens too could now be heard gaining, but still far enough behind for Wingless to know with confidence that his heist would successfully conclude.
In even breaths, Smith ran at his greatest speed, but Wingless effortlessly maintained a steady pace just a few strides ahead. Through the barren streets that looked like tunnels, Smith chased but ceased to gain further ground on the figure dressed in white only strides out of his grasp.
Wingless turned a corner at a tall impoverished brick building and continued down a seemingly endless row of unlit streets. Despite his maximum efforts, Smith maintained but failed to gain on the white figure that reflected a now fading white light.
Suddenly, the figure vanished for a brief moment and then reappeared twice the distance ahead. Smith felt an unfamiliar look of confusion run across his face but continued at his top pace toward his target. A few seconds later Wingless again disappeared from Smith's view, but this time returning nearly an entire city block away.
Smith's backup could be heard gaining in the distance, but despite his known purpose, Smith began to believe pursuit of this apparition was futile.
Wingless again camaflauged into the dark air, this time failing to reappear. Smith stopped and looked forward, staring for a while and uttered a small sigh. The path behind Smith began to dimly illuminate from car lights as he turned back to greet his entourage. At that moment Wingless appeared inches from Smith's face, delivering a roundhouse kick to his neck before Smith's defenses could execute.
Smith fell instantly to the ground, looked upwards towards his assailant, but saw nothing but dark sky and the silhouettes of tall red seemingly abandoned towers checkered with black windows. Smith stood up bewildered and pivoted in circles, trying to locate his aggressor. He tried to listen to any noise behind the sirens that would help reveal his once prey. But was then again kicked to the rocky pavement, onto his front this time, leaving his legs paralyzed. He pushed up with his arms and looked backwards as quickly as he could react, but Wingless was nowhere. The streets were empty with people, only the now visible cars slowed to a stop in front of Smith who lay on the ground.
Agent Jones exited the driver's side of the dark vehicle that had its high-beams raining on Smith who remained on the ground. Walking circumspectly towards him, Agent Jones asked mechanically, "Dues wants to know if he had the list."
"We need to see the Merovingian," Smith responded. "Now."