Seems the fire delayed his competitor only a few seconds, but it was enough time for Ryker to conjure what was sure to be an epic fireball. Complete with its own little version of a mushroom cloud and everything. He did appreciate a spectacle, and given that this night was absolute piss in the toilet, might as well throw off the mask and finish things once and for all. He was about to hurl the mighty mushroom upon Boda’s car when the first rounds of fresh fire popped in his ears.
The bomb held in the back of his mind, a seeming cloud of threads pulsing with light from within, lights only he could see of course, but things would be quite bad if he hurled it haphazardly in the general direction. Depending on what it hit, he might live to regret the hasty decision.
He ducked behind the shelter of a wide tree. Armor piercing rounds or not, unless the bodyguard wielded a bazooka, nothing would bite its way through oak. The strain of holding the bomb so that it didn’t implode right over his head was about to break him apart, but he waited for headlights to speed away. The screech of tires said that Boda made it. Twin lights pierced the empty road. Engine revved and Ryker made ready to blast him into oblivion.
The car streaked and he stepped forward to hurl the bomb. Instead, the car took a sudden turn. A thunderous smashing of metal stopped him in his tracks as the car slammed into a mighty tree.
Boda flew through the windshield, bleeding out on the hood of the car. Well. The agency wanted it to look like an accident. Guess they got what they wanted. Goddammit.
The bomb winked to nothing as the throbbing in his own bleeding hand subsided.
The bomb held in the back of his mind, a seeming cloud of threads pulsing with light from within, lights only he could see of course, but things would be quite bad if he hurled it haphazardly in the general direction. Depending on what it hit, he might live to regret the hasty decision.
He ducked behind the shelter of a wide tree. Armor piercing rounds or not, unless the bodyguard wielded a bazooka, nothing would bite its way through oak. The strain of holding the bomb so that it didn’t implode right over his head was about to break him apart, but he waited for headlights to speed away. The screech of tires said that Boda made it. Twin lights pierced the empty road. Engine revved and Ryker made ready to blast him into oblivion.
The car streaked and he stepped forward to hurl the bomb. Instead, the car took a sudden turn. A thunderous smashing of metal stopped him in his tracks as the car slammed into a mighty tree.
Boda flew through the windshield, bleeding out on the hood of the car. Well. The agency wanted it to look like an accident. Guess they got what they wanted. Goddammit.
The bomb winked to nothing as the throbbing in his own bleeding hand subsided.