A sudden feeling of weightlessness—then impact.
The motorcycle slammed onto the road, nearly bucking Monica off.
Luckily, Owen had warned her just in time. She had already tightened her grip around his waist, saving herself from being flung off.
The Augusta itself barely survived. The chassis wobbled violently before regaining balance.
After all, this was a high-performance street bike, not a dirt bike. It was built for speed and acceleration, not shock absorption.
Still, it held together.
Even so, the floating rear seat had briefly scraped against the rear wheel upon landing, emitting a teeth-grinding screech.
Up ahead, the Hummers had gained some distance.
Owen twisted the throttle, pushing the Augusta's 130-horsepower engine to the limit.
One by one, he overtook the cars in front.
This was a wide, smooth highway—perfect for a superbike.
Compared to the bumpy, narrow riverside roads, this was Augusta's home turf.
The engine roared, and Owen weaved through traffic effortlessly, overtaking vehicles left and right.
Drivers on the road barely had time to react—
All they heard was a high-pitched roar, followed by a black blur flashing past them, vanishing in an instant.
Step by step, Owen closed the gap.
Before long, the two yellow Hummers reappeared in his sight.
Their distinctive shape made them impossible to miss.
The wind whipped through Monica's hair, but she held on tight, both hands gripping Owen's waist.
This was her first time experiencing a high-speed motorcycle chase firsthand.
To Owen, the motorcycle seemed like an extension of his body, his maneuvers flawless and fluid.
He moved like a knight of the wind, overtaking car after car without hesitation.
Monica, a university-educated woman, suddenly felt speechless.
All she could think of was one phrase—
"God-like skills."
VROOOOOM!
Owen pushed the engine to its absolute limit, the Augusta screaming with power as they closed in on the Hummers.
Even though the Hummers were also accelerating, they were simply no match for a superbike designed for speed.
Owen overtook the second Hummer, pulling up alongside the first one.
Maintaining a steady pace, he didn't even need to tell Monica what to do.
She had already raised her rifle—
Aimed.
Fired.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Her signature three-round bursts rang out—
Followed by another burst—
Yet the Hummer remained unscathed.
That's why they never bothered shooting back.
That's why they didn't care about getting shot at.
These weren't normal Hummers.
They were armored.
Even at point-blank range, Monica's 5.56mm rifle rounds only left a few cracks on the bulletproof windows.
"CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!"
Frustrated, Monica fired again.
Same result.
The bullets couldn't penetrate the body, the windows, or even the tires.
Even the tires were special solid-core run-flat tires.
These tires contained two layers of high-polymer materials, which reacted to heat from bullet impact to produce a self-sealing polyurethane compound.
They didn't rely on air pressure—so there was no way to pop them.
Shooting was pointless.
Seeing that Owen and Monica were powerless, the mercenaries inside started grinning mockingly.
Alex, in particular, was laughing his ass off.
Watching Owen struggle in vain, he smugly flipped him off.
The driver of the Hummer, enjoying their frustration, suddenly swerved toward them—
Trying to ram them off the road.
Owen braked hard, just barely dodging the attack.
At this speed, if he got clipped by that three-ton beast, it would be instant death.
Looking back, Owen saw Alex grinning at him through the rear window, flipping him off again.
The second Hummer didn't even bother acknowledging them.
Why should they?
Owen was like a fierce hunting dog, but the Hummers were armored turtles.
And he had no way to bite through.
They continued speeding along at nearly 200 km/h, dodging through traffic.
Owen knew that if he were in a car, he could ram them, throw them off balance.
But on a motorcycle?
That wasn't an option.
He needed another plan.
As they sped forward, a massive semi-truck appeared ahead—
A huge 18-wheeler, like something straight out of Transformers.
Owen's eyes flashed with an idea.
Time to improvise.
He gunned the throttle, pulling ahead of the Hummers.
The mercenaries were confused.
What the hell is he doing?
Trying to block a Hummer with a motorcycle?
That was suicide.
The Hummer driver smirked, pressing the gas harder—
Planning to run him over.
Inside the car, the mercenaries cheered, laughing loudly.
These were the same bastards from last night—
The ones who fought FBI and killed federal agents.
They hated Owen for killing their comrades.
Now, they saw a chance to crush him like a bug.
But Owen had no intention of dying today.
Just before impact—
He swerved to the side, dodging effortlessly.
The Hummer driver scowled in frustration—
And then—
"SHIT!!!"
Inside the Hummer, panic erupted.
The semi-truck ahead suddenly blew out multiple tires.
Smoke erupted as the massive vehicle jackknifed sideways—
Blocking the entire road.
BOOM! BOOM!
CRASH!!!
Both Hummers, going nearly 200 km/h, had no time to react.
Their massive weight and momentum made braking impossible.
Both vehicles slammed directly into the semi-truck's trailer.
Smoke and debris filled the air.
Owen pulled over smoothly, watching the aftermath.
Luckily, their insane high-speed chase had scared off most civilian drivers, so no bystanders were caught in the wreck.
The semi-truck lay across the highway, effectively blocking traffic in both directions.
The Hummers had plowed halfway under the trailer, their front ends wedged inside the wreckage.
Yet, remarkably, the vehicles themselves weren't heavily damaged.
Even their hoods remained intact.
Because they were armored.
But that didn't mean the people inside were fine.
Owen and Monica drew their guns, cautiously approaching the crash.
The truck driver had been frozen in shock after feeling the massive impact.
At first, he thought it was just a traffic accident—
Until he saw Owen approaching with a gun.
His face went pale.
Owen waved him away.
"Get lost."
The terrified driver ran for his life.
Now, it was time to finish the job.
_________________________
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