Back on the other side of Miami, Robert’s neat little trick brought him some much-needed time and distance between himself and the police. But they were relentless; one by one, the ones that could flew down the alleyway in pursuit, until the alleyway ended and they were once again back on the main road.

  Robert weaved in and out of traffic, but the police moved in synchronized fashion, following his every move to the letter as if tethered to his bumper. Innocent drivers wrenched their wheels, cars desperately maneuvering to avoid collision. Their faces were the epitome of fear, but the sight of terrified women, children, families did nothing to deter the police — not for a second.

  Bullets rained down, not giving a damn about the carnage or the innocent lives caught in the crosshairs. The metal hollow-tips blistered through the rear glass and shredded the door panels, spraying Robert with shards of safety glass as he ducked and dived, trying every way possible to not get hit by the hellfire of bullets aimed his way.

  The police didn't care about the cars in the way or who they hit; they were given one job from Mario, and that was to bring back the black hood. They knew who really paid for the lavish lives they were living and exactly which side their bread was buttered on.

  Robert gazed behind him and saw the burning blur of red, white, and blue lights still hot on his heels. He was running out of real estate and time.

  “Come on, Robert… think—think,” he said, panicking, as his fingers tapped in rhythm on the side of the steering wheel. “All these brain cells and not one single idea.”

  But with the sound of the helicopter’s rotating blades now hovering directly over his head, all he could hear was the sound of the fingers on a clock. It felt like a countdown — a countdown to his inevitable demise. Panic began to set in, his heart thundering against his ribs like a trapped animal. For the first time in his life, he had to admit it: his life was over.

  He thought about the days his kids were born — the panic in his eyes when he didn't know what to do, followed by the overwhelming warmth when he first laid eyes on them. His mind cast back to his wedding day, one of the proudest moments of his life, and then to his greatest scientific achievements.

  But when it was all put into perspective, none of the awards mattered. Not the late nights. Not the fame. He thought about never spending another day with his family, never being able to hold them close and tell them he loved them, or coming home to his wife's cooking — things he'd taken for granted when he thought he had all the time in the world. His whole life flashed before his eyes in what felt like mere seconds.

  He kept driving, his body on autopilot, when the corner of his eye caught a shining fence on the right side of the road and snapped him out of his trance.

  “Bingo.”

  Robert smiled as he breathed a sigh of relief. There was fight still left in the old dog yet; he had a new outlook on life and wasn't ready to give it up.

  He slammed his foot down on the accelerator.

  Come on... come on, he urged as he edged closer toward the gate.

  “Now!”

  He snapped the words as his hands twisted right, pulling his whole entire body in that direction. This was his chance.

  The car burst through the metal gate, soaring through the air for a breathless second before crashing into the side wall of the underground ramp.

  Robert watched for a split second as the lead police cars roared past, missing the turn entirely. But as he shoved the car back into gear and hit the accelerator to dive into the underground road, other cruisers began to fly through the air.

  They didn't have the same luck Robert had been blessed with.

  Metal screeched and scraped against the concrete wall as the pursuit almost crumbled. With only three of the cars from the original group managing to make the jump, Robert had alleviated the pressure — for now.

  As the blades of the helicopter began to fade, a loud pop in the air reverberated, shaking the helicopter to its core, causing the men aboard to grab hold of what they could as they tried to stabilize themselves. As the men regained their balance, they glanced out to the side first and noticed a stream of purple and blue light stretched across the sky. The men followed the streak of colourful lights all the way to the front of the helicopter, and that's when they saw him — Dragonblade, standing mere meters ahead of them.

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  “What's Dragonblade doing all the way out here in Miami?” said one of the officers aboard the helicopter as he looked on at his comrade, confused.

  “Don't know, don't care. All I know is him being here shortens the amount of time we're up here,” said the other officer. “Look at it this way: he does all the hard work, catches the criminal — and us, we get all the credit for it. It's a win-win. So let him do all of the work.”

  “Alright, but remember, if this backfires in our face, this was your idea,” he responded as both officers sat down.

  Outside, Dragonblade patted his body down, checking himself over to make sure he was still intact. Finding no holes and his body still together, he threw his head back toward the sky and released a heavy sigh of relief.

  “Thank God I’m still here. You hear that, Jai? I made it in one piece,” Gabriel said, pressing the communication device in his ear.

  Jai-Lee let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, Gabe, I can hear you loud and clear. But we have another problem: you’re going viral. Your face is everywhere on social media.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gabriel snapped. “How did that happen so fast? I just got here!”

  “Gabe,” Jai-Lee’s voice crackled through the comms, “erm... take a look behind you.”

  As Gabriel slowly turned around, he noticed the police helicopter behind him and the officers aboard sitting, just staring at him. He stared back for a moment, confused as to why they were just sitting there, until he noticed the gimbal camera mounted beneath the nose. It was whirring as it locked onto his position, the red tally light blinking to show it was live. In that instant, he realized he wasn't just standing in the sky over Miami; he was being broadcast into every living room and onto every smartphone across America.

  *******

  Jacob came rushing into Kevin’s living room, out of breath and waving his phone.

  “Have you seen this, boss? You need to see this!”

  Kevin’s eyes squinted. In that moment, Jacob was a madman. He put his drink down on the side table, then snatched the phone out of Jacob’s hand. As he raised it to his face, he noticed immediately that Channel 212 was the broadcaster.

  Kevin’s head sunk into his hand.

  “Take your phone and get the hell out of here, Jacob. We're trying to find our next story and you bring me this — our rival broadcasting yet again. Remind me... what am I actually paying you for?”

  “You’re paying me because I'm good at what I do. Well, at least I’d like to think that's the reason, boss. But that's not why I’m showing you their channel. Look — look closely.”

  Kevin ran his hand down his face as he looked up. Letting out a deep sigh, he looked again, and that's when he noticed the ticker at the bottom of the screen:

  DRAGONBLADE IN MIAMI.

  He instantly sat up in his seat, his eyes lighting up.

  “You know, Jacob... you could have just led with that rather than playing this little game of Where’s Wally. Nevertheless, we got there in the end. Take my phone and go live now. If Dragonblade’s in Miami, this is something big. If he slips up, we’re going to be the first network in America to remind them that we warned them.”

  Jacob sat across from his boss at the round oak table and hit the live button on Kevin’s Instagram. Then the countdown started. He signaled with his hand, whispering, “We go live in three... two... one... and we’re live.”

  Kevin leaned into the camera, his professional mask sliding into place.

  “Welcome, America. Welcome back to the Kevin Cosby Show. And sorry for interrupting our usual broadcast schedule, but I wouldn't be Kevin Cosby if I didn't bring you this news today and give America my opinion.

  ‘Dragonblade in Miami.’ That's the story all these news stations want to plaster — the vigilante here to save the day. But America, I'm here to pose a question. And I want an answer even from the people who say I’m bitter, old, a hater, or outdated.

  The question I pose to you all is this: when has Dragonblade ever — and I mean ever, not just since he came out of the shadows — cared about crime outside of New York? Now, all of a sudden, he’s in Miami trying to catch a criminal that already has a ton of squad cars and helicopters dealing with it?”

  Jacob held the phone steady, the screen reflecting off his glasses. A flood of notifications began to scroll rapidly up the left side of the screen as the viewer count climbed into the tens of thousands. The comments were a chaotic blur of support, vitriol, and debate:

  TwoTrueForTheStreets: He’s right — when has Dragonblade ever helped us?

  MiamiHeat305: Land of the brave, baby!

  NYRealist: Hater. Kevin is just a salty old head.

  TruthSeeker: Maybe Kevin is right... why is he here?

  LawAndOrder: All crime should be punished. I don't care who does it.

  JusticeNow: Gotta love America. Watching a god in 4K.

  AntiVigilante: Stay in NY! We don't want the collateral damage.

  Kevin thrived on controversy; it was what kept him young and fresh in the game. He knew his audience was torn right down the middle, but with any hero, Kevin knew there would be a casualty eventually. There always was. It was the one guaranteed, unavoidable thing that always happened — and Kevin was just waiting in the wings for Dragonblade’s.

  “Now, America,” Kevin continued, “we are the land of the brave and a people who champion freedom of speech.”

  Kevin’s face moved closer toward the lens, his expression turning into the epitome of sarcasm as he continued.

  “So to all those out there that feel I judge a criminal — because that’s what a vigilante is: a person who takes the law into his own hands when he has no power or dominion in this great country — I’m going to watch it all unfold just as you are.

  So over to you, Dragonblade. The stage is all yours.”