Master of the Hunt, Part VIII

All parts linked here.

0545 hours, Gotham Suburbs

The Batmobile tore out of Gotham at upwards of ninety miles an hour, deftly dodging the few civilians already on the road at the break of dawn.

“Ten miles to city limits. Then turbo.”

“Affirmed.”

It was barely six minutes before the turbo boost kicked in. Huntmaster’s face, visible through the helmet’s graphene HUD, was evidence enough of the sheer g-force he felt as the car more than tripled its speed.

He grit his teeth and refused to ease up on the pedals.

“Gotta ditch the car…” he muttered as soon as the afterburner cut out.

He cast his eyes avout, seeking for a place to hide the car, but then grinned with a better idea.

“Intelligence one, calculate actions to induce controlled crash and ejection.”

“Affirmed. Artificial muscle strokes determined.”

The reply scrolled across the helmet feed, rather than playing in his head.

“That’s nw. Hacked the armour systems, then?”

“Affirmed.”

“Give me a run down, he said, unclipping his seat belt, “But first, crash the car.”

As if involuntarily, he jerked the wheel hard to the left, cutting between the gas and the brake. After a couple seconds of skidding, he gunned the afterburner again.

The car jumped to the side of the road, maintaining its forward momentum as well. Its nose clipped a tree ever so slightly, and the read of the car left the ground as it spun. When it came down again, it started the entire car rolling.

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