ChapterOne

“Maintain this speed,” shouted the man in the back of the box truck. The man looked around the entire truck; the only thing he could think about was the consequences of being caught with the product in this truck. The military-grade guns alone would sit him and his team down for almost two decades, but the drugs would add an extra twenty. He was used to this, but for some reason on this night, he felt a sense of dread, a strange feeling swimming inside his stomach. The truck hit a bump, causing him and the two other men in the back to stumble.

“Pothole,” said one of the men with a laugh. “Mr. Chong, how much longer?”

Mr. Chong looked over and said, “Twenty.” He kept his reply short and sweet. There was no time for small talk—a job had to be done and it had to be done well. If not, he would be in a coffin or a box, and neither sounded like a good option.

Razorwing shot through traffic on his wingcyle, maneuvering around cars and keeping the box truck and the two Chevy Impalas escorting it within view. He loved how smooth this motorcycle rode. The bike had come into HQ a few months ago, and after a few additions he had been using it ever since. Once again, what the military was too cheap to pay for in mass, Razorwing found luxury in. He tapped into his comms inside his mask and said, “Pete, preparing to engage, they’re turning onto the freeway.”

The comms crackled, and Pete answered back, “Got it.”

Razorwing tapped out of his comms and accelerated the bike toward the three vehicles.

Mr. Chong checked his watch; they now had less than fifteen minutes until they arrived at their destination. His radio activated.

“Mr. Chong, we have an issue,” said one of the men in the Impalas escorting the truck.

Mr. Chong sighed deeply. “What?”

“There is someone on a motorcycle approaching us at a high rate of speed, sir.”

Mr. Chong gripped the radio tighter and said, “What?”

Razorwing was now within forty yards of the three-vehicle convoy. He put his bike on auto drive and leaped into the air, then unlatched his billy club and shot the cable toward the first Impala.THWIP! The cable launched with a high rate of speed, latching onto the car. Razorwing then propelled himself forward and shot toward the driver side of the vehicle. He smashed through the driver side glass and grabbed the passenger, tackling him through the passenger door. “Argghhhhhhh!” the man shouted. Razorwing threw him into the air, took a foam capsule out of his waist compartment, and launched it at the now descending gang member. As soon as the pill hit