Many people at the dance noticed the movements between Locke and Gwen.
It was bold.
And it made everyone even more expectant.
Locke, who had transferred from Texas, had directly usurped the throne of the number one school heartthrob. Gwen, the undisputed top student—beautiful, smart, and incredibly popular.
"Shh!"
As Gwen's best friend, Kim naturally noticed the scene. She grabbed Cindy, who was talking nearby, and gestured toward Locke and Gwen with a silencing finger to her lips.
Cindy followed Kim's gaze, her smile widening as she nodded. She stopped talking and, like Kim, wore an expression full of anticipation. They were waiting for the "legendary moment" to happen.
But...
Just as the surrounding students were reaching the peak of their anticipation, a loud *bang* echoed as the gymnasium doors were kicked open from the outside, instantly startling the crowd.
At the same time, Locke and Gwen were interrupted by this sudden intrusion.
Locke narrowed his eyes.
Killing intent flared.
"Locke Broughton!"
Leading the group was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, an Asian woman posing as the FBI. She walked straight up to Locke and flashed a warrant recently signed by the Upper Manhattan District Court. "Locke Broughton, you are suspected of being connected to the 'Evil Hunter' case. Please cooperate with our investigation."
Gwen's expression shifted instantly, then she frowned. "Are you people ever going to stop? The NYPD already cleared Locke."
The surrounding students began to crowd around. At sixteen or seventeen, they didn't care about the FBI; even if the CIA showed up here, they'd face a cold reception.
Locke stared expressionlessly at the Asian female agent in front of him.
Melinda May.
Locke's voice betrayed no emotion. "Do you know what night it is?"
If his mentor, Chester, were here, he would know one thing for certain: Locke was truly angry.
Great. You could have come early, or you could have come late, but you chose this exact moment. This was pure provocation.
Melinda May, who had just been reassigned to replace Natasha Romanoff, squinted her eyes—eyes that fit the stereotypical federal aesthetic. "This is a court-issued arrest warrant!"
In truth, Melinda May's eyes were naturally quite large. But living in the Union for so long had caused her to lose herself, subconsciously catering to the local aesthetic until her gaze had narrowed into slits.
Gwen pulled her phone from her bag. "I'm calling my dad."
"No need."
It was Locke who spoke. He stopped Gwen's hand and offered a small smile, taking the keys to the R8 from his pocket and handing them to her. "It's fine. It's just cooperating with an investigation. No need to trouble Mr. Stacy."
Saying this, Locke looked back at Melinda May, his tone still eerily calm. "I hope you know exactly what you are doing, Federal Agent!"
Melinda May replied, "I know exactly what I'm doing, Mr. Broughton. After you."
Locke said no more. He gave Gwen a quick hug, then turned and followed Melinda May out of the gymnasium.
As long as you know what you're doing.
That way, I don't even need to send you a "notice."
...
They got into the car.
"Director," Melinda May spoke into her comms to Nick Fury. "Target is in the vehicle. Are we bringing him to the Operations Center?"
"No," Nick Fury replied. "The FBI."
Ordinary people could be taken directly to a S.H.I.E.L.D. interrogation room. But Locke was not ordinary. Without a doubt, the NYPD would soon be calling the FBI to ask if they had arrested Locke, and lawyers would likely be on the way.
If Locke wasn't in an official FBI interrogation room, there would be hell to pay. While the FBI allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. to use their credentials and name, they would never take the fall if things went sideways. Even if the Attorney General agreed, the head of the New York FBI office would refuse to be the scapegoat.
The cars hit the road.
Sitting in the backseat, flanked by two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Locke looked down at the handcuffs on his wrists and couldn't help but chuckle. "Can I ask what crime I've committed?"
Melinda May, sitting in the passenger seat, put down her phone and glanced at Locke through the rearview mirror. She didn't speak.
The corners of Locke's mouth curled up. "It's okay if you don't say it. I know. You suspect I know the person you call the Peerless Assassin, and you want to find his whereabouts through me!"
Melinda May said to the driver, "Drive faster."
Locke chuckled. "Actually, you didn't have to go to all this trouble. If you asked me, I'd tell you where he is."
Melinda May turned her head to look at Locke in the backseat.
A mysterious smile played on Locke's face. He reached out and pointed toward the road ahead. "Look, isn't he right there?"
"What?"
Melinda May's pupils shrank. She spun around to look through the windshield. There, under a streetlamp in the distance, stood the Peerless Assassin—dressed in a suit, wearing sunglasses, and holding the Silver Dancers. He slowly raised his head.
"Stop the car!"
Too late!
The Peerless Assassin under the streetlamp vanished into the shadows the next instant.
In the following second:
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
The Silver Dancers spat brilliant fire in the darkness. Two bullets shrieked through the air, slamming into the tires of the lead car.
*Rumble!*
The speeding vehicle let out a deafening roar and flipped through the air like a somersaulting gymnast before smashing violently onto the pavement.
The subsequent bullets curved through the air, bypassing the car Locke was in. Three bullets slammed into the fuel tank of the third car in succession.
*Clang!*
*Thud!*
*Boom!*
Instantly, the car exploded, bouncing once like a playful toy.
The Peerless Assassin, still in his sunglasses, reappeared under the light. He looked at Melinda May in the passenger seat of the second car, tilted his head, and walked toward the first overturned vehicle.
"Don't—"
*Bang!*
"Please—"
*Bang!*
The Peerless Assassin didn't even look as he sent off the two bloodied S.H.I.E.L.D. agents crawling out of the wreckage. Then, a mysterious smile touched his lips as he fixed his gaze on Melinda May.
The two agents in the backseat with Locke drew their weapons, standing by in high alert.
Locke, sitting between them, closed his eyes, looking as if he were merely resting.
'I originally wanted to play a sophisticated, high-level game with you.'
'But... you didn't want that.'
Fine then.
Let's have a bigger scene—one with both brains and brawn.
***
Read 30 Chapters early on P-atreon.com/Redestro666