Rico swerved, hit the gas, and bailed out at the last second, letting the unmanned vehicle careen off a cliff. He deployed his parachute, drifting down toward the winding mountain road below. He landed softly, rolled twice, and found himself staring at the general’s limousine as it sped past, its rear tires mere inches from his face.
“You,” Sastro whispered.
He grappled onto the rear APC as it rounded a coastal hairpin. A quick thwip of his parachute, a mid-air reel, and he was on the roof, prying the hatch open with a crowbar born of pure disrespect for private property. The driver didn’t even have time to scream. Rico yanked him out, tossed him into the jungle canopy like a used candy wrapper, and took the wheel. bolopatch just cause 2
He lit a grappling hook into the sky and soared away. Rico swerved, hit the gas, and bailed out
He did what he always did. Stupid.
He could feel the pressure. Not the physical kind—the game kind. The invisible hand of the developer squeezing his lungs because balancing . He pulled out his submachine gun and sprayed the limo’s rear tires. Sparks flew. The limo swerved but didn’t stop. “You,” Sastro whispered