Locke hadn't offended anyone recently.
And...
The timing of this threat was far too coincidental. The only possibility was the lingering trouble left by a woman who was already dead, making him take the fall for her—the update mission No Escape triggered because of Lorraine Broughton.
As expected.
An ICA that has tangled, deep-rooted connections with London's MI6?
Heh.
Locke sneered, feeling a bit amused in his heart. He had originally been wondering how he was supposed to advance this mission if the ICA didn't show up. After all, what right did he have as an outsider to go meddling in their old grievances with Lorraine Broughton?
The result?
It seemed he didn't need to stress over it anymore. There were always people who mistook his kindness for weakness. The road to heaven is wide open but they refuse to take it, instead choosing to storm the gates of hell just to beg him for a one-way ticket.
How utterly pathetic.
Locke thought to himself as he locked his gaze onto the Audi R8 that had pulled right up to him, slowed down, and rolled down its window.
But...
In the next second.
The silver Audi R8 suddenly accelerated, letting out a sharp vroom as it tore away.
?
Locke's right hand, which had been resting firmly on his waist, froze. A massive question mark practically floated above his head.
"What is going on?"
"Could it not be the ICA?"
"Did they mistake their target and look at the wrong person?"
Locke blinked. Even with his years of extensive experience and sharp wit, this sudden turn of events completely threw him off.
"Hey."
Gwen pushed open the door of the convenience store. Seeing Locke blocking the entrance, holding a pose, she blinked.
"Are you working on some new modeling pose or something?"
Locke snapped back to reality, smoothly tucking the Glock back into his waist without a trace before turning around.
"All done?"
Gwen nodded, handing Locke a box of charcoal that wasn't exactly light but certainly wasn't too heavy either, and clapped her hands clean.
"Let's go. I asked the agent, but unfortunately, he's not around this morning. We'll have to see if he's free this afternoon."
Locke nodded and placed the box of charcoal into the car.
After a moment's thought.
With a mere thought from Locke, his Peerless Arsenal quietly merged into the Audi R8. Though he didn't know what had just happened, with Gwen by his side, taking extra safety precautions was absolutely necessary.
Back on the road.
They drove all the way to Hampton Bays, and even when they were only twenty kilometers away from their destination, the identical vehicle had not reappeared within Locke's perception.
Did they really just mistake their target?
Locke raised an eyebrow, finding it somewhat amusing. Then again, it wasn't unheard of for hitmen to mess up their assassination targets. It was a bizarre occurrence, but it still fell within the realms of logic.
But...
Just as Locke steered the car along the roads of Hampton Bays toward East Hampton.
His brows twitched as he spotted the identical silver Audi R8 suddenly materialize in his rearview mirror.
In the trailing car.
Agent 46 looked at his center console screen, which explicitly displayed that the directive for Rule Two had been suspended. His expression remained completely flat as he drove with one hand and held his silver Silverballer with the other.
Just now...
The reason Agent 46 had abstained from firing earlier was due to the ICA's second operational protocol: do everything possible to avoid collateral civilian deaths outside of the target.
Thus, Agent 46 chose to temporarily hold his hand.
Evidently.
The ICA handlers monitoring Agent 46 via certain technological means grew displeased and explicitly indicated that, for this specific run, he could choose to ignore the second rule.
Although Agent 46 harbored a shred of doubt, from the moment of his creation until now, his sole purpose in life was a single thing.
To kill.
To eliminate as many targets for the ICA as possible while he was still breathing.
Locke had already put the pieces together by this point.
Fine.
'You really are storming the gates of hell because you refuse to live.'
Locke thought as much. However, keeping Gwen's presence in mind, he chose not to simply throw his door open and blast the trailing Audi R8 into absolute smithereens.
Before long.
They arrived at East Hampton.
However, just as Locke prepared to follow the address, turn off the main highway, and head toward Kahn and Cindy's house, Gwen spoke up from the passenger seat.
"Keep driving, Locke."
Locke raised an eyebrow.
"We're being followed."
Gwen looked up, using her peripheral vision to scan the rearview mirror.
"That Audi R8, the exact same model as ours, has been trailing us for at least half an hour. Keep driving straight ahead."
'Impressive, my Gwen.'
Locke praised her silently, maintaining an unruffled exterior as he kept the car moving forward.
Agent 46's Audi R8 followed them like a shadow.
Gwen pressed both hands against her phone, keeping it ready on George Stacy's speed-dial screen, but she hesitated to press call.
After all, she merely had a strong feeling that the car was tracking them, but she lacked definitive proof. What if she made a mistake and caused a massive, embarrassing misunderstanding?
Right at that moment.
The trailing Audi R8 swerved into a fork on the right.
Locke's speed remained constant.
Seeing this, Gwen couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, patting her chest before looking back toward that right-hand path
"I really felt like he was following us. I almost called Dad."
Locke was just about to speak.
His eyes narrowed sharply.
Click!
Locke engaged the handbrake directly, initiating a dead stop right on the spot while violently cranking the steering wheel to the left.
A stationary drift.
"Wh—"
Gwen was instantly startled. Before she could even process her surprise, she witnessed the car that had supposedly turned down the right-hand fork crash back onto the road with a massive roar, executing a literal leap to cut them off.
If Locke hadn't pulled the handbrake just now, a violent collision between the two vehicles would have been an absolute certainty.
"Hold on tight."
Locke threw a quick word to Gwen in the passenger seat, disengaged the handbrake, and rapidly accelerated toward the local police station.
When in trouble, find the police!
This was Locke's consistent protocol. Though, if Gwen hadn't been here, he would have torn these people apart.
Gwen had already snatched up her phone again. Despite the panic, she had survived the Poseidon disaster after all, so her anxiety remained purely superficial.
Moreover...
Gwen looked at Locke behind the wheel. As always, not a single trace of panic could be seen on his remarkably composed face.
Thud, thud!
"Hmm?"
Agent 46 extended his Silverballer, firing two suppressed shots directly at the glass of Locke's vehicle. Yet, the bullets achieved absolutely nothing, leaving behind not even a single scratch.
"Bulletproof?"
"Bulletproof!"
Locke looked at Gwen, who had turned her head sharply upon hearing the impact of bullets against the glass. He offered a reassuring smile.
"I took this car in for custom modifications. The entire body is bulletproof."
Unless you pull out a rocket launcher, any bullet hitting this thing could be explained away by heavy armor plating and ballistic glass.
Besides, time is running out for you.
Once we reach the precinct, it becomes my home turf.
Locke glanced at the rearview mirror. The trailing car was trying to pick up speed to ram them.
However.
I am the professional driver here.
Locke let out a dismissive chuckle, threw the car into a different gear, and kicked the speed up another notch, instantly shattering Agent 46's dreams of forcing a pit maneuver.
Right at that moment.
Three black pickup trucks suddenly swerved out from the road leading directly to the police station.
"Shit!"
Locke watched a figure in black stand up in the bed of a pickup truck, hoisting a rocket launcher onto his shoulder. He couldn't help but curse himself internally for raising a death flag out of nowhere, and promptly yanked the steering wheel hard once more.
Boom!
The rocket detonated directly against the asphalt, unleashing a deafening explosion in an instant.
"Gwen!"
"Gwen!"
Locke executed a rapid U-turn, bringing his car practically face-to-face with Agent 46's Audi R8 for a split second.
Peering right through the passenger window, Locke caught a glimpse of that signature bald head, confirming without a doubt that the face belonged to a clone killer. He accelerated once more, tearing back down the road toward the Hampton Bays police station they had just passed.
New York City was densely populated.
It had plenty of precincts.
'You bastards, I refuse to believe you've set up ambushes all the way into Hampton Bays as well.'
Furthermore.
Gwen had already successfully connected her call to George.
Over at the NYPD headquarters, George, who was currently trying to deduce where the Peerless Assassin might strike next, assumed Gwen was calling to say she might be returning late tonight.
He never expected that the moment the call connected, a massive explosion would blast through the speaker, followed by the frantic, roaring scream of an engine.
George instantly bolted upright from his chair, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Gwen! Where are you?"
Hearing George's roar from outside the office, Beckett and Jason immediately exchanged a look and rushed inside.
Gwen couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. That was a literal rocket launcher just now, and her heart was hammering wildly against her ribs.
"Dad! Long Island! Someone is trying to kill me and Locke! Hurry!"
Hearing this, George's entire demeanor turned as sharp and lethal as a cornered predator, "Where is Locke?"
Damn it.
Did that wild boar fail to protect my daughter after all?
Locke's voice cut directly into the call, sounding as calm as it always did
"George, Gwen isn't hurt, and I'm fine. The attackers appear to be professional hitmen, and they are armed with heavy weaponry. I'm currently driving toward the Hampton Bays police station."
"I'm on my way."
George spoke in a heavy, commanding tone. The moment Locke specified Hampton Bays, Beckett and Jason had already sprinted back out to have their personnel contact the local precinct out there.
"What about the SWAT team?"
"They've already been called in."
"They won't make it in time."
George kept the line open to ensure his daughter's continuous safety while striding rapidly toward the elevator.
"We're taking a chopper. Notify the Coast Guard as well."
Jason turned to Beckett, "You stay here to coordinate. I'll go with him."
Beckett didn't insist on tag-along duty; someone ultimately needed to maintain the communications link from headquarters.
The fact that Gwen had notified the NYPD was naturally picked up by the ICA's intelligence network instantly.
"Move, move, move!"
"Faster!"
Rat-tat-tat!
Rat-tat-tat!
"Shit!"
Driving like a pack of stock cars, several vehicles locked onto Locke, maintaining a tight pursuit. Automatic handguns, submachine guns, and assault rifles unleashed a torrential hail of lead upon the body of Locke's Audi R8.
But...
A relentless barrage of bullets that could easily reduce a standard vehicle into a pile of scrap metal within ten seconds did nothing but create a crisp, metallic clattering as they deflected off Locke's Audi R8.
"Fuck!"
"It's completely bulletproof!!!"
"..."
***
Bonus chapter.
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