Donald McQuay ducked, yelling a curse as a volley of bullets impacted the adjacent side of the dumpster he crouched behind. Sparks flying up and past him as the rounds ricocheted off the steel box and entered the ground. With one glance the police lieutenant checked his ammo, reloaded his clip and readied his Beretta. He then looked across the alley to his squad car, or rather his partner hiding behind it. Gritting his teeth, McQuay firmed as yet another volley of bullets hit the dumpster in three round bursts.
His partner, Ray Davis, then threw his arm over the cruiser's hood, gripping the door with one hand as he let loose a rapid string of shots with deadly precision. His long barrelled shotgun letting out five deafening 'bangs' as it tore through the bodies of two mask wearing thugs with rifles. Immediately, the remaining two gun men re-concentrated their fire on the shotgun wielding corporal, effectively giving McQuay a much needed relieve. Wasting no time, the lieutenant rolled around the side of the dumpster, simultaneously aiming down his weapon's sight as he switched it's fire mode to rapid. Inhaling, he then let off three four round bursts, watching with pleasure as one ripped through a bandit's shoulder, burying two rounds within it.
While he didn't go down, the thug turned and took flight. Jumping into the driver's seat of the black Camaro they had been using for cover. In a rage, his companion continued to open fire, spraying blindly in the general direction of the two cops as he swore wildly in Spanish. As the Camaro's horn sounded, it's engine roared to life. The frantic thug inside slamming his foot down on the accelerator as to send the vehicle forward in a cloud of dust, it's wheel's temporarily spinning against the gravelled alley floor as he took off. Within seconds the car was then maneuvered out of the narrow alley and onto the main road, leaving only an angry and desperate gunman in it's place. His mouth worked beneath his mask.
"Vete a la mierda morir, vamos!" Each syllable seemed to be accompanied by a flurry of bullets, all of which whizzed past the heads of officers McQuay and Davis as they crouched behind their respective covers. Straining his voice in an attempt to overtake the thunderous sounds of the gunfire, Donald screamed across the alley to his partner. His heart sank as his words fell on seemingly deaf ears. Trying again, the policeman blindly fired a few rounds over the top of the dumpster, hoping they would deter the assailant from firing. Again his words were lost in the chaos. Frustrated he glanced back, letting his azure eyes rest upon the brick wall to the rear.
"Fuck! God damn it! Ray you son of a bitch!" At long last the African-American cop turned his dread-locked head, an angry look on his face as the window above his head shattered, causing a down pour of glass to fall down upon the middle aged man's frame. He swore as the shards cut at his face.
"It's no-" The Hispanic thug fired another volley at him, this time cursing himself as his gun made a loud series of hollow clicks. Realizing what it meant, Ray leapt up from behind the battered police car, his arms furiously working his shotgun's pump as he unloaded the rest of his clip in the gunman's direction. With a satisfied smirk McQuay watched as three of his partner's four shots ripped through the crook's torso, almost, but not quite cutting him in half as they passed through his flesh. His mutilated corpse splattered against the ground.
Like a fox on the hunt, McQuay leapt up, instantly breaking into a full sprint for the cruiser as Davis double checked the corpses. The engine flared, causing the sirens to bawl out with life despite the fact that only the blue light remained intact. Through Davis turned without hesitation, he was already too late. For McQuay was already flooring the accelerator, thus forced his partner to dive behind the dumpster in order to avoid being hit.
As he pulled out into the street, Donald yanked the steering wheel hard to his left, a vengeful determination compelling him to catch the lone escapee as he raced down Gardena boulevard. Driving in endless slaloms, he weaved in and out of traffic, causing the other drivers to swerve and brake nervously as the white charger barrelled down the busy street. It wasn't long before he, if only faintly, caught a glimpse of the Camaro making a right onto a side street. Relieved, McQuay gave chase. His blonde, spiked hair twisting against the wind as his blue eyes scanned the roads before him. Finally approaching the street, he too made a right, swerving around a motorcyclist as he took the corner.
Unable able to keep up with McQuay's desire, the cruiser let out a long high pitched whine. A series of heavy 'snaps' and 'clanks' signaling the overdue death of the car's bullet battered engine. Donald grimaced with worry, listening in fear as a final loud and boisterous 'pop' ran out from under the hood. Steam seeping up from it's crevices as a furious McQuay fought for control of the vehicle. Failing, he simply hit the brakes, his face growing grim as the charger ploughed into a light post, coming to a bone rattling stop. Despite his pain, Donald swore, gingerly picking up his firearm as he watched the black Camaro race away.
"Tsk" Subrashii cringed. His face visibly displaying hints of annoyance as he looked on at the small screen. While the knowledge of the device's name absent from his mind, the shinigami continued to stare blankly at the images displayed upon the smartphone. "Human's are so... shameful." With that he through the device to the side - sending it reeling into the wall as it fell apart with a loud crack. A moment later, and the robustly built man had risen from his lethargic squat. Alone in the dark room that was his quarters, he then moved to the only light source within the room, a single square window. Looking out, he let his mind wondered towards the tournament and all those whom had taken part. A menacing grin replacing his indifferent gaze as he pondered what was to come.
"Soon."
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