# Chapter 25
The moment Big Dogg realized the upside-down sedan was empty, his demeanor shifted instantly from smug triumph to cold tactical focus. He spun on his heel, scanning the perimeter.
"They couldn't have gone far on foot!" Big Dogg roared, gesturing toward the surrounding alleys. " "They must have gotten out when we were separated. Search the block! Fan out!"
Of the nine operatives who piled out of the pursuing SUVs, four immediately scrambled back inside their vehicles to secure the surrounding streets—two in each SUV. The remaining five fanned out on foot moving in different directions, weapon muzzles raised as they swept the park perimeter.
Once the perimeter team dispersed, Big Dogg turned to Kane and gave a single, sharp nod. Kane sprinted back to the ruined convertible, retrieved a remote fob, and pressed a button on it The trunk popped open. He grabbed a specialized chemical canister, a Detonator, an electronic breach kit, and a compact blowtorch before rushing back to the overturned sedan and crouched beside its trunk.
Dousing the latch of the sedan's trunk with the chemical solvent,
**Ssssssssss...**
Kane watched the high-tensile alloy hiss and corrode under the acid. Sparks flew as he applied the torch, slicing through the reinforced locking mechanism in seconds.
He popped the trunk cover, lifted the false floorboard, and grinned.
Neatly stowed in custom tactical foam lay Vane Industries' private reserve: high-capacity drum magazines, thermite charges, tear-gas canisters, Smoke bombs, and military-grade assault rifles.
Big Dogg stepped up, dropping a heavy duffel bag onto the asphalt. Kane worked frantically, stripping the compartment clean and shoveling the gear into the bag.
One weapon after another.
Magazine after magazine.
By the time he finished, the bag was so heavy that the fabric strained against the weight.
As Kane yanked the last rifle from its recess, a faint, rhythmic sound caught his ear.
*BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...*
Kane froze. He zipped the main duffel shut and traced the sound to side compartment normally used to store the jack. Yanking back the side paneling, his blood ran cold.
A digital timer was wired directly into a compact block of plastic explosive embedded in the car's frame.
**01:42... 01:41... 01:40...**
"Shit," Kane muttered. He slammed the paneling back down, snatched a small Detonator from his breaching kit, primed it, and a red light began blinking he then tossed it into the trunk beside the bomb.
"Kane, move it! Siren frequencies just hit the scanner!" Big Dogg called out, stepping into the passenger seat of the convertible.
"On it!" Kane grabbed the heavy weapons bag with both hands and struggled to lift it.
"Damn, this thing is heavy."
He hauled the heavy duffel bag—now loaded with stolen Vane weaponry—over his shoulder.
Distantly, the wail of approaching police sirens echoed down the avenue. Sweating profusely under the weight of the haul, Kane heaved the bag into the convertible's open trunk, tossed the blowtorch and canister alongside it, and slammed the lid shut.
He jumped behind the wheel just as Big Dogg picked up the tactical radio.
"All units, disengage and fall back to Vitian bridge," Big Dogg commanded coldly into the mic. "And someone have a fresh ride waiting for me at the rendezvous."
He tossed the radio onto the center console and leaned back. Kane slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the battered convertible roared away from the crash site.
---
### One Minute Later
Police vehicles appeared on the horizon.
Their sirens echoed between the buildings as they approached the overturned sedan.
A trail of leaking fuel had already ignited, snaking across the pavement toward the inverted sedan. Before the lead cruiser could pull within fifty yards, Kane's secondary charge detonated—triggering the sedan's onboard bomb in a catastrophic chain reaction.
*KA-BOOM!*
A massive fireball mushroomed into the afternoon sky, sending a violent shockwave tearing down the street. The blast shattered storefront windows for two blocks, forcing the police vehicles to slam on their brakes and reverse away from the raging inferno.
Fortunately, most people had already fled the area after the earlier attack. The few who remained were spectators who had kept their distance, some holding up their phones to record what was happening.
The Onlookers who had gathered on the sidewalks to record the aftermath were thrown off their feet by the pressure wave, scattering in terror as black smoke billowed over the park entrance But no one was killed..
Despite the chaos, Big Dogg's crew had left no trace. Every operative except Big Dogg and Kane had worn full tactical face balaclavas. And between the dense smoke screens and shattered highway cameras, automated traffic surveillance had caught nothing more than obscured plates and unidentifiable vehicle silhouettes.
---
Six blocks away, a slick four-vehicle convoy—two armored SUVs flanked by two luxury black sedans—cruised smoothly through the traffic grid.
Scott sat in the front passenger seat of the lead sedan, his face pale as he pressed a blood-soaked bandage against his shoulder. His driver sat in the back with two fresh operatives; the severely wounded team member had already been diverted in an SUV heading toward a private underground clinic.
When the deep rumble of the distant explosion echoed across the city, Scott turned his head, watching a column of dark smoke rise above the tree line.
A cold smirk touched Scott's lips. "I hope that blast took out at least half his men... or better yet, Big Dogg himself."
The driver leaned forward, peering out the rear window. "That mushroom cloud is huge, boss. Isn't that a bit much for a standard fuel tank explosion?"
Scott looked at the smoke.
"Yeah. It's big."
Scott chuckled winced slightly as the motion pulled at his shoulder gash. "I activated the thermal scuttle charge before we bailed. It incinerates every scrap of evidence, every shell casing, and every weapon in the trunk. Nothing falls into their hands, and nothing links Vane Industries to the scene."
"Seeing how big the explosion is gives me enough assurance that there won't be any evidence left."
He laughed softly.
"No evidence. No weapons for them to recover. Nothing."
Scott leaned back against the headrest, completely unaware that Big Dogg had already looted his entire arsenal—and that Kane's transponder charge was what had turned the scuttle code into a city-shaking bomb.
---
*Ten minutes earlier...*
*The moment the falling highway sign blocked Big Dogg's direct line of sight, Scott's driver had slammed the brakes, bringing the battered sedan to a halt in front of an alleyway.*
*The driver had engaged the vehicle's automated pilot system, locking the steering trajectory forward. While Scott helped his bleeding operative out of the cabin while keeping hold of his machine gun in one hand, the driver sprinted to the trunk, retrieved two metal hard-cases containing millions in bearer bonds, and slammed the lid, As soon as he slammed the trunk shut, the sedan began moving again.*
*As the driverless sedan accelerated down the main road toward its planned crash, the four rendezvous vehicles pulled over in front of the alley. The wounded operative and the money were loaded into the first SUV, while Scott handed off his heavy machine gun, grabbed a fresh rifle, and he climbed into one of the trailing sedan Clutching his injured shoulder, His face tightened from the pain. just before the convoy vanished into the city grid.*
----
**Vitian overpass**
Underneath a concrete highway overpass, three armored SUVs sat idling in the shadows.
A low rumble signaled the arrival of the blue convertible. The sports car looked like it had crawled out of a war zone—its windshield gone, its hood venting clouds of white steam, and its chassis riddled with bullet holes.
It rolled to a stop between the SUVs. An operative rushed forward, pulling open the passenger door.
Big Dogg stepped out, his tailored suit miraculously crisp despite the chaos. He walked calmly to the trunk, opening it to inspect their haul: the smaller bag containing their original purchase, and the massive duffel packed with Vane Industries' experimental armaments.
Kane stepped out shortly after, he has already unloading the launcher. He packed it back into its case and carry the heavy hardshell case containing the Stark Mini-RPG launcher.
Then headlights appeared again.
A sleek, custom Chevrolet stopped at the edge of the shadows. The driver stepped out, approached Big Dogg, and respectfully held out the key fob.
Big Dogg took the keys. With one hand, he effortlessly heaved the heavy duffel of stolen weapons into the Chevrolet's trunk, followed by the RPG case. He tossed the smaller bag onto the front passenger floorboard.
Turning back to Kane, Big Dogg pointed at the ruined convertible. "Get her to the private workshop. I want the frame straightened, the weave replaced, and the engine rebuilt by next week."
Kane nodded. "Consider it done."
Big Dogg settled his heavy frame into the driver's seat of the Chevrolet, rolling down the window to address the gathered crew.
"Tomorrow morning. "We meet at the base ."
Nobody questioned him.
He started the engine, the high-performance V8 roaring to life, and swung the car out from under the bridge. One by one, the remaining SUVs dispersed into the city, leaving the quiet shadows of the overpass behind.
Only the battered convertible remained.
And for a few seconds, the place was completely silent.
Then Kane looked at the ruined car and sighed.
"Next week, huh?"
He shook his head.
"This is going to take a miracle."
The night swallowed the sound of his voice as the last vehicle disappeared into the distance.