"Fox News, this is Megyn Kelly reporting live on a wild LAPD high-speed pursuit! Check this out, folks!"
The news chopper hovered overhead, camera swinging from the blonde anchor's face down to the chaos on the streets below.
Below was the LA freeway loop in the middle of rush hour. Everything was completely gridlocked—except for one beat-up blue sedan hauling ass after a white SUV. A swarm of police cruisers tore after them, sirens blaring.
Two police helicopters circled above, tracking the sedan and directing the ground units. Thick black smoke poured from the sedan's engine like it was about to explode any second, but the car stayed glued to the SUV's bumper. This clearly wasn't some regular driver or regular ride, and shit like this brought out the American media like sharks to blood in the water. That's why it was live on every screen.
"Hold together, baby!"
Lawson kept his eyes locked on the white SUV up ahead. His target.
Roughly a month ago, he'd suddenly blinked and gotten yanked from 2025 straight back to the early 2000s. America—the land of the free, beacon of the world. Everybody flocks to the light, but nobody notices how pitch-black the base of that lighthouse really is.
He'd arrived with no ID and struggled to survive. The only thing he brought with him was his smartphone from the future.
After a few days of living off soup kitchens and barely dodging getting his kidneys harvested in some back alley, a mystery man approached him.
"Hey, you wanna eat a real meal?"
Lawson figured the guy was a pimp trying to recruit him as a male escort—he was handsome enough for it. Turned out the dude was an FBI agent looking for an informant. Lawson strongly suspected the fed just wanted to skim the informant payouts, which is why he brought him on. Because after getting on payroll, Lawson didn't do jack shit.
Not long after, a new app appeared on his phone: Payday.
It listed nearby gigs like some freelancer platform, except these were crimes in progress. Stop or solve them, and you got rewarded.
Over the past month, Lawson had broken up flash mob lootings and helped LAPD bag a bunch of fugitives. The real prizes were the Trump Cards—special ability cards from the app. He'd pulled two: Pilot and Gearhead.
That's exactly why he was making the entire LAPD look like idiots on live television right now.
[Pilot: Any ride you touch comes alive. Hell, sometimes it really feels like they do.]
[Gearhead: Turn scrap and junk into working machines like a goddamn MacGyver. Might break the laws of physics or fall apart fast, but fuck it—it works when it counts.]
The Pilot card let him weave through gridlocked rush-hour traffic like a pro. The Gearhead card had brought that totaled wreck back from the dead into the beast he was driving now.
The white SUV belonged to a cartel runner who actually knew how to drive. When Lawson saw the pursuit on the news, he jumped into his junker and joined the hunt.
The only problem was the LAPD had marked him as hostile too. The app showed his wanted level spiked all the way to five stars.
"Fuck it. All or nothing."
He slammed the nitrous.
The system shot liquid nitrous oxide straight into the engine. The heat split it into oxygen and nitrogen. Extra oxygen supercharged the burn while the nitrogen kept the block from melting. A normal setup gave around twenty percent boost. Lawson's junk-rigged version? Closer to thirty.
"Jesus! That blue sedan's a goddamn blur! I am dying to know who's behind the wheel! Driver—if you're watching this—call us! Let's get you on the show for an interview!"
The blonde anchor wouldn't let up. She kept doing play-by-play while trying to book the guy live for ratings. In America, as long as it gets clicks, the media doesn't care if they're interviewing a serial killer or a cult leader.
Police presence was multiplying fast. The only thing keeping the chase alive was the gridlocked traffic preventing spike strips and roadblocks. Otherwise the white SUV would've been done already.
Lawson floored it, pulled up right beside the white SUV, and slammed hard into its side.
"Time's up, asshole."
The cartel driver shot him a stunned look. Lawson cranked the wheel and smashed him straight into the guardrail. The SUV ground to a halt in a shower of sparks and got instantly swarmed by LAPD cruisers.
Lawson's blue sedan took heavy damage too. Physics didn't give a fuck.
Thanks to the Pilot card he kept control, but he was bleeding speed fast. The cops were closing in.
Using a massive semi as cover, he smashed through a barrier and dropped down onto the lower off-ramp. The high-rise blocked line of sight with the police choppers. By the time LAPD figured out where he'd gone, all they found was the smoking wreck of the blue sedan.
The driver had already vanished.