The VIP section was filled with the elite of the elite, including Salvador and his inner circle, alongside Logan's father, George Holt. The raceday atmosphere was electric, with loud engines, fierce competitors, and the unmistakable hum of anticipation in the air. They had come to watch Logan in the Death Race, knowing full well that the stakes were high, not only for the competitors but for the cartel's future as well. It wasn't just about speed—it was about power, survival, and proving who really owned the streets.
At the VIP section, Jessica's father was with them, watching quietly from his seat. As an important business associate of Salvador's, he was no stranger to the cutthroat world of illegal sports and trade. His eyes were fixed on the track, but his thoughts were on his daughter and her place among these dangerous individuals.
From the sidelines, Captain Carter was watching his son, Matthew, from a private illegal streaming feed of the race. His military background had taught him to be strategic, and despite his concern for Matthew's safety, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. His son had always been capable, but this race was different—it wasn't a mission; it was pure, brutal competition. His eyes narrowed on the screen as he observed Matthew's vehicle, knowing that if anyone could make it through this, it would be his son.
Meanwhile, William's mother was also watching from her own vantage point, not from the race but from the Bureau of Justice, her fingers flying over a series of encrypted contacts to ensure that she was updated on any intel related to her son's participation. She knew that this race was as much about her son's abilities as it was about the brutal world they lived in. She wanted to be prepared, always.
The Rules of the Race
The loudspeaker echoed through the stadium, announcing the rules of the Death Race:
Six laps to complete, with each lap filled with chaos.
Killing is allowed—it's not just about crossing the finish line but surviving.
Weapons, explosives, and abilities are all part of the game. There were no limits—anything goes.
It was a dangerous spectacle, and everyone knew that only the most ruthless would make it through.
---
Each of the team members had their own customized vehicles, all built to suit their particular fighting style and preferences.
William's vehicle was a beast, built for raw power and destruction. His modified Mercedes G-Wagon G63 AMG 6x6 was a tank on wheels, equipped with an automatic shotgun sentry mounted on top, ready to blast away any opposition. Alongside that, it was armed with heavy artillery, including an HK 416, dozens of magazines, and a couple of EMP grenades to disable any competitors who got too close. William's vehicle was designed to tank hits and take down enemies without hesitation. He wasn't here for speed—he was here to destroy.
Matthew's Dodge Charger Hellcat was a well-rounded machine, engineered for versatility in combat. Equipped with a high-tech radar system, communications jammer, and dozens of spikes, it was built to outsmart and outlast his competitors. Matthew had modified it with his own special short-range EMP system, designed to disable enemy tech when necessary. His plasmas blaster—a wristwatch-like device that extended to cover his palm—was one of his crowning achievements, resembling an Iron Man mini-blaster, and would be his primary weapon in the race.
Logan's vehicle was built for speed and durability. His Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X was light and fast, equipped with a high-tech GPS system and colored smoke grenades for misdirection. What set it apart were the reinforced rotating blades mounted on the front and back of the vehicle, capable of cutting through steel. It also carried C4 explosives, a Desert Eagle, and an SVD sniper rifle for long-range attacks. Logan even brought his pet, Midnight the steppe eagle, to distract competitors—a well-trained bird that could drop smoke grenades or disrupt other racers with its aerial maneuvers. Logan had spent a lot of time training Midnight, knowing the eagle could prove useful in the heat of the race.
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As Logan arrived at the starting line, a few of the mercenaries recognized him instantly, murmuring about the infamous Grey—the man who had singlehandedly destroyed the Valdez cartel. The whispers spread like wildfire, some surprised that he was so young. They had expected a more seasoned, older competitor, but Logan's reputation had preceded him.
One competitor approached Logan, extending a hand in a rare moment of respect.
"I respect what you did to the Valdez cartel, Grey. But don't think that means I'll let you win this race. I'm here for the prize, and I'll get it by any means necessary."
Logan accepted the handshake, his expression unreadable. "We'll see who comes out on top."
---
Suddenly, Matthew's eyes widened as a familiar black Rezvani Tank rolled up to the starting line. It was Darius Cross—his old military comrade—in the driver's seat, looking as fierce and determined as ever.
Darius climbed out of the tank, nodding at Matthew. "You're still here, huh? I didn't expect to see you in this kind of race."
Matthew smirked, extending his hand. "I could say the same to you. What brings you to a race like this?"
Darius cracked a grin. "The war's coming. Supplies are running low, and I need the prize money to get the resources we need. I've joined the military, but even we need all the help we can get. So, I'm doing what I do best—competing."
Matthew nodded, understanding. "Well, may the best man win."
Darius raised an eyebrow. "You know, I don't plan on losing."
---
As the racers prepared for the first lap, the energy in the air was palpable. Engines roared, tires screeched, and the sound of weapons being loaded filled the stadium.
The race was about to begin, and each of the team members knew that this wasn't just another challenge. This was a test of survival.
The countdown began: "3… 2… 1…"
And then—the signal to go. The roar of engines shook the ground as the Death Race officially began.
The roar of engines reverberated through the track, and the lights flashed green. The starting gun had been fired, and the competitors were off, tearing down the dirt road, their vehicles kicking up dust as they zoomed into the first lap. Logan, Matthew, and William were immediately in the thick of the chaos, with the other racers jostling for position as they flew through the course.
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Logan's Lancer Evolution X shot forward like a bullet, its reinforced rotating blades cutting through the air as he dodged his way around slower vehicles. He wasn't here for just speed—he was here to make a statement. His eyes never left the track, constantly calculating where the next threat might come from.
He spotted the Rezvani Tank ahead—Darius Cross was already pushing forward with brute force, his tank rumbling through obstacles as if they were nothing. Logan grinned, knowing that this wouldn't be easy, but he had an edge. Speed.
Meanwhile, Matthew in his Dodge Charger Hellcat was maneuvering through the pack with calculated precision. He had modified his vehicle with high-tech radar and a comm jammer, allowing him to stay one step ahead of competitors trying to lock onto him with targeting systems. Every few seconds, he deployed spikes from the back of his vehicle to slow down anyone daring to tail him.
But it wasn't just the other competitors that he had to worry about—he was constantly monitoring his custom-made mini-turret, which was firing at nearby enemies, keeping them at bay. Matthew was in his element, a deadly combination of brains and technology, and he wasn't afraid to use it.
Then there was William, who was using his Mercedes G-Wagon G63 AMG 6x6 to tank through everything. His vehicle was built for raw power, and he was living up to that promise. He barrelled through everything in his path, obliterating weaker vehicles and shooting blasts from his shotgun sentries that cleared the way. He didn't need to worry about taking damage. The rest of the pack did.
But there was one thing none of them were expecting: the first obstacle of the race—a barrier of electrified walls designed to slow the racers down. A couple of the competitors in the back were already trying to break through it, but the volt sparks sent them careening off the track.
Logan grinned. This was what he lived for.
---
As they entered the second lap, the racers were forced into narrow, tight turns that tested the handling of their vehicles. Logan took the corners with precision and speed, narrowly avoiding the vehicles around him. But suddenly, an unexpected figure appeared in his peripheral vision—a giant, heavily armored truck on the track behind him.
The truck swerved, sending shockwaves of debris in all directions. The driver of the vehicle was aggressive, trying to force Logan into a crash. But Logan was too skilled. He eased into the turn, drifting just enough to cut between the truck and a nearby light post, narrowly escaping being boxed in.
Behind him, Matthew cursed as he saw Logan's maneuver. He immediately activated his EMP blaster to disable the radar of the aggressive vehicle, causing it to slow down as its systems short-circuited. Matthew smirked, knowing he had successfully crippled his opponent without a single shot fired.
But the danger wasn't over.
The track's terrain began to shift again—landmines buried beneath the ground exploded in quick succession, throwing racers into a frenzy. William wasn't fazed. His G-Wagon was practically immune to explosions, and he kept plowing forward, leaving wreckage and debris behind him.
---
As they approached the halfway point, something unexpected happened: Midnight, Logan's pet eagle, suddenly swooped down from above and dropped a smoke grenade right in front of a competing vehicle, temporarily blinding its driver. The bird's sudden appearance caught everyone off guard, and for a moment, chaos erupted.
Logan laughed to himself, knowing his bird was more than just a distraction. Midnight had been specially trained for this, and as the plumes of smoke filled the track, he used the cover to accelerate, gaining valuable ground on his competitors.
Suddenly, the radio crackled to life in Logan's ear. It was Salvador, who was watching from the VIP section. His voice was calm but had a hint of amusement. "You're doing well, Holt. Just don't get too cocky. We've got a lot riding on this."
Logan's response was simple, yet filled with resolve. "I'll make sure the finish line is mine."
---
As they neared the final laps, Darius Cross began to take advantage of his military-grade modifications. The Rezvani Tank could take hits and keep going. The automatic gunfire and laser-guided targeting made him a formidable opponent, and he was quickly closing the gap between him and Logan.
Matthew noticed Darius catching up and decided it was time to act. He activated his EMP blaster once again, sending a pulse that temporarily shut down Darius's communications system. The Rezvani Tank slowed for a second as Darius cursed under his breath, realizing he was momentarily blinded to the race's surroundings. It was just enough time for Matthew to push ahead, leaving Darius trailing behind.
---
The race was now down to its final lap, and it was clear that the battle wasn't just about speed anymore—it was a game of strategy. Logan was neck-and-neck with Matthew, with Darius still lurking close behind. William, of course, was making his presence known—unstoppable, as always.
In the distance, the finish line loomed—a distant beacon of glory for the racers and riches for the one who crossed it first. Explosions, gunfire, and chaotic maneuvers filled the air as the trio and their remaining competitors began to make their final push toward victory.
Who would cross the line first? The young and dangerous Grey? The ever-calculating Matthew? Or the unstoppable juggernaut William? Only time would tell.
As the racers geared up for their final dash, everything was about to come down to the last stretch.