• Krieger dialed a number on his cell phone as he watched the taxi drive away from the scene from atop a nearby roof. After a few rings, the other end picked up.
    “Report, Krieger.” The voice on the other end resounded.
    “Target is fleeing north of here in a taxi, with help from an unknown male individual.” Krieger replied.
    “And what of Stevens?”
    “Dead.”
    “What happened?”
    “Run down.”
    “By?”
    “The unknown man.”
    “He failed a task as simple as taking out a target such as her? His life deserves not to be continued. Proceed with alternative plan Beta.” The phone beeped as the man on the other end hung up his phone. Krieger dialed another number into his phone. Upon the first ring, there was an answer.
    “Give me a location.” The man stated promptly.
    “Cut them off at the intersection of Townsley Avenue and Harrison Boulevard. You have two minutes.” Krieger ended the call as swiftly as it was answered. He wreathed the chain around his waist onto his wrists, swinging it over the clothesline, sliding from the roof onto the next building’s third floor balcony. He threw the chain to his feet and kicked down the fire ladder, sliding down it to the ground below with agility and grace. He dashed down the alleyway and past the dumpster with the bullet hole and approached the car left behind by the late Mr. Stevens.
    He pulled the door open and slid in, but noticed that the keys were missing. Stricken on time, he began to hotwire the vehicle. After a brief moment the engine roared to life and he began to drive to the intersection, not even taking the time to close his door. As he sped down the road, the door struck a lamp post and jarred the car’s trajectory, tearing the door off of its hinges. He struggled with the car’s grip, ramming it into another lamp post. The engine began to stall and smoke, and as he exited the car, he heard screeching tires and the sounds of metal mashing together as he presumed his associate crashed the target up ahead. He began to sprint towards the intersection, pulling his pistol out as he ran, cursing under his breath at his own carelessness.
    Within a minute he arrived at the scene, seeing the cab and a blue sedan piled in a smoking metal heap. A gunshot rung out in the silent night from further down the streets, followed by a scream of rage. Krieger continued to run towards the gunshot. His phone vibrated in his coat pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open in one motion.
    “Cut across the park and head them off. We’ve got them cornered.” The man commanded.
    “Right.” Krieger disconnected the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket, heading across the grass of the park. He felt a raindrop, and as he looked off into the sky, a dark cloud billowed, and in the distance, he could see the beginning of a tornado forming. They had to finish this, and fast.