:SaS: The Street Rogue -

~continued from "The Street Fighter"~

The Chief slapped his hand on his desk. "Answer the question. Who are you?"
"I'm afraid I can't," said the cold-toned man.
"That's an order, sir."
"Please," said the man, unperturbed. "Keep reading."
The Chief rose for a moment, but sat down slowly as he took a full minute to survey the man. Crew-cut, gangly, in his thirties. He had the deepest, darkest eyes that captivated the attention of any sane man.
So the Chief sighed and picked up the papers again. "Okay...the government's third big target, straight from downtown."

"I ain't messing, you son of a bitch," said Pierre. "That spot on the national most wanted is mine."
Danny snickered casually, eyeing the foot-long barrel of the gauss pistol aimed at his nose. "Why don't you talk to Jet about it then?"
Pierre pulled out another gun and directed it at Jet, who was leaning against his scarred Lamborghini. He and Slick both chuckled as Pierre raged inside, his fingers slipping on the triggers. Police sirens now whirled in the distance. Jet whistled.
"Take it easy, Pierre-" said Jet.
"I'll take easy and your sick ride when you two are dead," smiled Pierre.
Click. He looked at Slick. "And you're going first."
Slick's roguish smirk faltered for a second.
BLAM!
BLAM!
"AAAAUGH!"
Jet's heart skipped a beat.
A slim girl was standing in front of Pierre with her palms pressed over the barrel holes of the pistols. Her thick gloves had caused the guns to backfire, and now smoked with an odor of hot lead. Pierre dropped to his knees, howling and pressing his numbed fingers underneath his armpits.
Two military police SUV's veered around the corner, sirens screeching-
"Kay, showtime's over, GET IN THE CAR!" yelled Jet, jumping into his blue racer. He revved up the engine as Slick leaped over the hood and threw himself into the passenger seat, knocking his fists together. The chick jumped onto the tail of the car, watching the moving police lights and licking her lips.
VROOM!! The Lamborghini Cycloni di Angelo sped off.
Several more chrome police cars veered out of nowhere and tailed them. Swerving left and right, Jet could do nothing to get them off his track.
An SUV slapped his bumper against the Lamborghini. Jet caught a glimpse of an insignia on its windshield.
"AaaaAH FUCK, THEY'RE FEDERAL!" He launched himself into an alley. A line of SUV's tailed him.
Holding on to the trunk spoiler, the girl scattered a handful of beads along the alley in their wake. As they turned out of the narrow road, a ball of fire flew out from the alley, and a flaming SUV flipped out onto the street.
There were still two on their tail. And Jet was driving straight for a solid road block. He eyed it quickly - lines of electric spike strips and explosive barbs.
He pulled into a circle and turned back, heading straight for the incoming SUV's.
The girl drew from her waist, a pair of serrated swords that shined in the sirenlight.
As they pulled between the SUV's at 300 miles per hour, she held out her blades vertically on each side. Crouching on the low Lamborghini, her swords rent clean through the police engines.
Jet sped off, leaving his pursuers spinning and falling apart and the drivers diving out of their seats.
Slick gripped the edges of his seat, his heart racing. Jet just laughed and pulled down the cracked backseat windows.
The girl slipped inside, holding a cheery grin. "Hi, Jay!"
Jet looked back. "Best one yet, Stephanie."

"Another teenager, learned double-swordplay with the late Hiroshi Gourin and European sword master Eugene Vladek, wanted for "creative" disablement within the national police force and a few assassinations...actually, there's nothing to say that she's killed anyone innocent," said the Chief, his brow furrowed, "Her victims are all homicidal gang leaders. Still a favorite target." He looked up at the man. "And I suppose you know her name too? What else? Her favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Stephanie doesn't reveal many secrets...she's quite..."stealthy". I wish I knew more about this young lady. But tell me, Chief," said the man to the disturbed Chief of Police. "Tell me more."
"Why do you want to know so much about them?"
"Because," said the man, "I'd then be willing to give you some ideas to get rid of them. You know that if that little gang becomes collective, starts attracting the top criminals from around the world...what that would do to the civility of this city? Perhaps," he added, "it would shake the whole foundation of national security. People would be in constant panic. You need a stronger system. Like...an anarchy." He smiled and continued,
"And perhaps...I'd like to aid in the creation of the perfect police force."