Chương 64: Chapter 64
On a Texas Highway.
A sudden downpour flooded the dark Texas night. The rain fell hard, splashing against the ground with sharp, rhythmic beats. The once oppressive heat began to cool as the storm raged on, turning the dry, desolate land near the highway into a blurry, rain-soaked landscape.
In the middle of it all, a red pickup truck roared down the road, its headlights cutting through the storm like the glowing eyes of a dragon. Inside, the soothing tones of Hotel California drifted through the speakers, the classic guitar melody blending with the sound of the rain, creating a peaceful yet haunting atmosphere.
Pietro was at the wheel, driving lazily with one hand. His elbow rested against the window, chin propped on the back of his hand as he tilted his head slightly—his pose almost effortlessly cool. Though he'd never admit it, he was imitating Leon. He'd seen his boss drive like this several times before, looking flawlessly handsome from every angle, especially in profile. It was a look Pietro tried to emulate, though at this moment, there was no one to admire it.
Wanda sat in the passenger seat beside him, dressed in tight black leather pants and white sneakers. Her long legs stretched out in front of her, resting on the dashboard. With a baseball cap pulled low, she scrolled through her phone, looking entirely disinterested.
In the backseat, a figure lay stretched out, but in the darkness, they were barely visible.
"Ugh, still over a hundred kilometers left," Pietro groaned, glancing at the GPS. The glowing map showed they still had 137 kilometers to go, and his mood darkened. He had already been driving for three hours since dinner, and it looked like they still had over two more to go.
Bored and exhausted, he sighed, wondering how much longer he could endure the monotony.
Pietro glanced at the person sleeping peacefully in the backseat, and his frustration flaring. How is this guy sleeping through all this? He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to pick up the entire truck and sprint the rest of the way himself.
"Still no sign of him?" he asked, exasperated.
Wanda, still scrolling through her phone, replied calmly, "Don't worry. He's probably just enjoying the city like a tourist. According to social media, he's still there, as long as he hasn't skipped town." She absentmindedly pulled a lollipop from her sweater pocket and popped it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving the screen.
"That guy really knows how to disappear," Pietro grumbled. "Too bad we don't have Natasha backing us up this time."
Finding their target wasn't about brute force; it was about tracking him down first. Dark creatures like him had a knack for staying hidden, and sometimes they even had the help of official agencies covering things up to avoid causing mass panic. Traditional methods wouldn't work—they couldn't just walk in and demand answers.
What they needed was hacking, something Natasha excelled at. Over the years, Pietro and Wanda had picked up some basic skills, enough to hack into street surveillance or access local police networks. But those networks usually had firewalls that were tough to crack.
Natasha, though? She was on a whole different level. Her hacking skills were top-tier, and with her enhanced body and mind, she'd gotten even better. She could easily break through the toughest defenses, acting as their secret weapon on missions like this.
But Natasha wasn't here. She was off reconnecting with her family.
Pietro sighed. Another day of missing Natasha.
The pickup truck sped down the highway, splashing through the muddy, rain-soaked road. It was dangerously slick, and the truck could easily skid off-course if Pietro wasn't careful. But, as usual, he didn't care, pushing the limits of control with his foot firmly on the gas.
If the truck ever came close to flipping over, Pietro could instantly react with his super speed. From his perspective, everything around him would slow down by a hundredfold, allowing him to make corrections with ease.
The tires spun rapidly on the slick, uneven ground, spraying water into the air. The surroundings were shrouded in darkness, with heavy rain misting the air and filling their lungs with dampness. Both Pietro and Wanda had a fondness for rainy and snowy days—it reminded them of their time together in the Ural Mountains, where they grew up.
There, it seemed to rain or snow endlessly, and they would often sit outside their wooden cabin, lulled to sleep by the rhythms of nature. Now, as Hotel California played in the truck, Pietro swayed slightly to the music while Wanda, with a lollipop in her mouth, scrolled through her phone, focused on reading the latest news.
Time seemed to drag on as they drove, the road mostly deserted. But as they passed a road sign, something shifted. Both Pietro and Wanda's heads snapped up simultaneously, and the person who had been napping in the backseat sat up, alert and tense. His youthful face was shadowed, giving him a somber look.
Pietro pressed down on the brake pedal, gradually slowing the pickup truck. It rolled forward for another hundred, maybe two hundred meters, before coming to a full stop.
Boom!
A bolt of lightning tore through the sky, lighting up the dark world in a flash. Thunder roared overhead, the sounds overlapping and creating an eerie atmosphere. The heavy downpour slammed against the truck's roof, each drop like a barrage of bullets.
The headlights illuminated the dirt road ahead as the truck stood still on the highway. Not far behind them, a green billboard loomed in the distance, barely visible through the curtain of rain.
In the car, Wanda and Pietro both frowned, scanning the area through the front windshield, the side windows, and even the rearview mirror as if searching for something. From the backseat, Sumarokov leaned forward into the light, his face emerging from the shadows.
Glancing left and right, he muttered, "What the hell? I can't see anything, not a trace. What are we dealing with?"
"Yeah, it's strange. The three of us are on high alert, and we still don't see a thing," Pietro said from the driver's seat. He leaned forward against the steering wheel, his eyes darting around cautiously. "Feels like something's locked onto us."
Wanda, still holding her phone, closed the page she was on and tucked it into her pocket. She leaned against the window, unfazed by the rain dripping onto the brim of her cap. Turning slightly, she looked behind them.
A few kilometers away, an RV was slowly making its way down the road.
Tilting her head, she rested her chin on her arm and whispered, "Someone's coming."
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