As my foot stamped down hard on the accelerator, I heard the engine pur in appreciation. Gun in hand as well as on steering wheel, I loaded it, shiny bullets sliding inside the metallic, black gun.
I heard the engine of the sleek, red Porsche rev behind me, coming dangerously close to my rear bumper. I grimaced, watching the man's face in my side wing mirror. He grinned, bearing his pristine, white teeth. I scowled at him, pressing lightly on the pedal again. But what I didn't notice was his friend in the passenger seat.
The passenger leaned out his side window, holding out a gun. He fired. The impact sound of the bullet hitting the side of my car made me jump out of my skin. The passenger was laughing hysterically and he held the gun in the air, waving it around triumphantly. I twisted the steering wheel, skidding around the corner, the smell of burning rubber filling my nostrils. The Porsche followed, the car skidding a little more rebeliously than mine.
It came to my attention that i had no idea who these men were, let alone why they chasing me. I never usually thought about those things until I was intrerigating the attacker. It didn't bother me anymore. When I was younger that was the first thing I thought about, usually stalling trouble, but now I just leapt right for the fight. I laughed at the thought.
"Ā! Haiteku! Watashitachi ni kenri kuru, e? Baka! Anata no mama wa anata o iu koto nakatta no ka?" The passenger shouted out of the window, laughing as he did so. That roughly translated to "Oh! Haiteku! Come right to us, eh? Idiot! Didn't your mummy tell you that?"
It twigged in my mind that they knew how young I was. By that I mean, normal agents were about 24+. I was 18. People didn't think twice as I look older most of the time. I don't know how they know, but that was the least of my worries...