The moment Wesley ran off, Fox noticed that Carlos had also disappeared without her realizing it. "Damn it."
Although she knew Carlos had likely left, Fox, knowing she wasn't a match for him, hesitated to act after losing track of him.
She had pulled off surprise attacks before, hiding in the shadows to take a shot, but this time she decided to wait. Luckily, after a few tense seconds, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
The call brought good news. Not only had the gunsmith arrived, but another teammate, the mechanic, had caught up to Wesley.
The reason the mechanic managed to catch up to Wesley was that Wesley, out of sheer panic, had activated his superhuman ability. His speed while fleeing could make an Olympic sprinter cry in despair. If not for his short legs, he could've easily run 100 meters in under six seconds.
The mechanic, who had coincidentally encountered Wesley, couldn't help but notice him. The resemblance to the photo they had seen earlier made it impossible to ignore. While calling the gunsmith, the mechanic tailed Wesley in his car.
With allies outside ready to intercept, Fox cautiously left the restaurant and got into her red sports car. She called the mechanic and followed his directions to pursue Wesley.
Barely a few seconds into the chase, a frantic shout came through her earpiece. The mechanic was under attack and needed backup.
It wasn't hard to guess who was attacking him—it had to be Carlos.
After a moment's thought, Fox continued driving and spoke to the mechanic and gunsmith over the shared channel. "Gunsmith, go support the mechanic. Just keep Carlos occupied. I've interacted with Wesley before, so I'm the best person to deal with him."
"Got it. I'm on my way," the gunsmith replied.
"Hurry up, baldy! I can only hold out for so long. Otherwise, you'll be hauling back my corpse!"
The mechanic, whose combat skills relied more on his hands and feet than his shooting, could only shout indignantly at the gunsmith while facing Carlos at a distance.
"Damn it! If you can't manage, why not drive away and lead Carlos off? Idiot!"
"Huh?" The mechanic paused for a second, then immediately shouted, "Got it!"
Unfortunately, as soon as he acted on that idea, Carlos seemed to anticipate his move. With a quick flick of his left hand, he extended his gun out the car window and fired. A curved bullet hit the mechanic's front left tire.
A blown tire on a speeding car is a recipe for disaster. The vehicle spun wildly out of control, rolling several times before plunging into the Hudson River.
Fortunately for the mechanic, luck was on his side. His car ended up in the water, and he managed to survive.
The gunsmith, who had just arrived to help, saw the whole incident and immediately turned his car around to head toward Fox. He had two reasons: first, to draw Carlos away so he wouldn't finish off the mechanic, and second, because he knew facing Carlos alone was tantamount to suicide. Only by teaming up with Fox, whose skills were just slightly below Carlos's, did he stand a chance of survival.
Carlos quickly noticed the gunsmith's sharp U-turn and began chasing after him.
Fortunately, the gunsmith was driving a sports car. The initial distance of several hundred meters, combined with his car's acceleration, made it hard for Carlos, driving a standard pickup truck, to get close enough to shoot.
After half a minute of pursuit, Carlos suddenly turned off and disappeared from the gunsmith's view. Watching this in his rearview mirror, the gunsmith immediately warned Fox. "Carlos might be heading your way. Be careful."
"Don't worry. New York's a big city. He won't find me so quickly," Fox replied with a laugh. She had already spotted Wesley. "I've found the target. Let's meet up at XX Street."
"Understood." The gunsmith, relieved to hear Wesley had been found, turned his car toward their rendezvous point.
Wesley, in a panic, stuck to the main roads. Even though he had lived in New York for a long time, he was too scared to risk darting into alleys. Using all his strength, he ran for a few minutes until his chest felt like it was going to explode. Unable to keep up the pace, he slowed down, feeling as though he might die from the exertion.
Despite his exhaustion, Wesley knew better than to stop or sit down. He staggered forward, trying to ignore his spinning head.
Before long, the roar of a sports car engine grew louder. A red car sped toward him, stopping just a meter away.
"Get in! You're still in danger!" a woman's urgent voice called out.
"What?"
Before Wesley could process her words, Fox opened the passenger door and barked, "Get in the car if you don't want to die!"
Recognizing the beautiful woman who had saved him at the restaurant, Wesley hesitated for only a moment. Then he saw a pickup truck speeding toward him.
He instinctively turned to run but froze when a gun was pointed at him. "Get in, or die."
It was the first time Wesley had ever been held at gunpoint. He immediately obeyed, climbing into the car. He didn't even have time to fasten his seatbelt before the car roared off at high speed.
"Sorry," Fox said while driving. "Given the situation, I had to force you into the car. If the man who killed your father had caught you, he'd use you to threaten us. I couldn't let that happen."
"Fk! God, why is this happening to me?" Wesley yelled in terror. "Even if my father was some kind of super-assassin, he's already dead! Why would anyone want to kill someone as insignificant as me?"
"Bang!" A bullet hit the car, prompting Wesley to shrink into his seat, almost diving into the footwell as he babbled incoherently.
"Fk! Did my deadbeat dad murder that guy's whole family or something? Drive faster! I don't want to die!"
"Shut up!" Fox snapped, annoyed by Wesley's panicked rambling. Though his comment about his dad being a deadbeat made her smile, his constant chatter was fraying her nerves.
"Quiet, you idiot! I'm driving!"
Used to being yelled at, Wesley fell silent. But when another bullet hit the car, he panicked again. "I'm calling the police! God, where's my phone? I'm calling the cops!"
Hearing this, Fox spotted a police car ahead. Without hesitation, she rammed her sports car into the back of the police cruiser, pushing it forward at high speed. Then she abruptly slowed down and slammed into the car's side, sending it careening into a crash barrier.
"FUCk! What are you doing?" Wesley yelled in horror, staring at Fox's calm, smiling face. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? You just attacked a cop car! God, if the NYPD catches us, they'll shoot us full of holes!"
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