Vicious Revenge Of The Genius Ward

The freezing Manhattan rain slashed against Keira's face, but she didn't blink. She stood in the suffocating darkness of the narrow alley, her eyes locked on the armored black Maybach idling across the street. Her thin, soaked jacket clung to her shivering frame. Her teeth chattered so hard her jaw ached, but her right hand was completely steady. Between her pale, freezing fingers, she pinched three slender, silver acupuncture needles. Across the street, the heavy driver's side door of the Maybach swung open. Mickey, a man built like a concrete wall, stepped out. He popped open a black umbrella and jogged toward the corner coffee cart, leaving the impenetrable safety of the vehicle for just a fraction of a second. It was enough. Keira shot out of the alley like a starved, feral cat. She kept her body low, dodging the halos of the streetlights, slipping directly into Mickey's blind spot as the rain masked the sound of her boots hitting the pavement. With a flick of her left wrist, she skipped a heavy metal washer across the asphalt, sending it clattering into a pile of trash cans ten feet to his right. Mickey heard the metallic clatter behind him. He started to turn his thick neck toward the noise, exposing the vulnerable expanse of his nape for half a second. It was all the time she needed. The oversized black hood of Keira's jacket instantly filled his vision. Before he could even open his mouth to shout, Keira's right hand struck. It was a blur of motion. The three silver needles pierced the skin at the base of his neck, driving with surgical precision directly into the Fengchi and Jianjing acupoints. The massive neural block was instantaneous. Mickey's eyes rolled back. His vocal cords paralyzed before a single sound could escape, and his two-hundred-pound body turned to liquid. Keira slammed her bony shoulder into his chest, taking the brunt of his dead weight to stop him from hitting the asphalt and alerting the nearby security detail. Her knees buckled under the crushing pressure, her lungs burning as she dragged his limp body into the pitch-black gap between two parked delivery trucks. She didn't waste a second checking his pulse. She shoved her freezing hand into his tailored coat pocket and pulled out the heavy, metallic key fob. Without looking back, she marched straight toward the idling Maybach. She yanked the heavy door open. The warm, rich scent of cedarwood and expensive leather hit her face, a sickening contrast to the smell of garbage and wet asphalt clinging to her skin. She threw herself into the driver's seat and slammed her palm against the lock button. The heavy thunk of the deadbolts engaging sealed her inside, cutting off the roar of the rain. The freezing leather made her stomach cramp. She stomped her wet boot onto the brake pedal and jammed her finger against the ignition. The V12 engine let out a low, guttural roar that vibrated through the floorboards and up her spine. The icy blue glow of the dashboard illuminated her face. Her skin was paper-white, her eyes entirely bloodshot, burning with a frantic, suicidal heat. She looked up at the rearview mirror. Three blocks down, pulling out of an underground garage, was the extended black Lincoln belonging to the McKnight family. A violent wave of nausea hit her. The smell of burning flesh and the sound of her grandparents screaming in the fire clawed at the inside of her skull. Her chest tightened so severely she had to gasp for air. She slammed the gear shift into Drive and buried her right foot into the floorboard. The Maybach shot forward into the flooded avenue. The massive tires shrieked against the wet asphalt, the rear end fishtailing violently. Keira gripped the leather steering wheel, her knuckles turning stark white, and jerked it hard to the left, forcing the two-ton beast back into a straight line. The G-force pinned her flat against the seat. The blood rushed from her head, causing black spots to dance in her vision. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, using the sharp metallic taste of her own blood to stay conscious. The traffic light at the next intersection glared a blinding red. A wall of yellow cabs and sedans crossed her path. She didn't lift her foot. She pressed the accelerator harder. Horns blared from every direction, a deafening wall of sound. Cars slammed on their brakes, tires smoking in the rain as they swerved to avoid the black missile tearing through the red light. The Maybach smashed through a plastic construction barricade. Muddy water exploded across the windshield. The wipers thrashed frantically, but the glass remained a blurred mess of streetlights and rain. The McKnight's Lincoln was less than two hundred yards away. Through the blurry glass, she could see the faint outline of a passenger in the back seat. The heat of her hatred boiled over, burning away every last shred of her sanity. She locked her elbows, preparing to turn the wheel for a catastrophic, T-bone collision at the next intersection. A soft, mechanical hum vibrated through the cabin. The thick, soundproof privacy partition separating the front seats from the rear slowly lowered halfway down. "Enough." The voice was low, coated in ice, and carried a weight of absolute, crushing authority. It echoed through the enclosed cabin, instantly shattering her manic focus. Keira's breath hitched. She snapped her eyes to the rearview mirror. In the dim, shadowed light of the spacious back seat, a pair of pitch-black eyes stared back at her. Hillard Conway sat with his long legs casually crossed. In his right hand, he held a crystal glass of whiskey. The amber liquid was perfectly still. He hadn't spilled a single drop during her psychotic joyride. The shock hit Keira's nervous system like a defibrillator. Her right foot involuntarily twitched, lifting off the accelerator for a fraction of a second. The engine's roar dipped. Hillard set the crystal glass down on the center console. He leaned forward, his broad shoulders filling the gap in the partition. His long, elegant finger reached out and pressed a glowing red button on the rear control panel. The automated driving system forcibly engaged.