Chapter Eleven—Dealership

John turned and ran for the foyer. “Let’s get out of here!”

“On it!” Kyle called, vaulting over one of the white leather sofas and past the bodies.

They stopped in the living room.

“Shit,” Kyle said.

“What?”

“How do we get out of there? They’re going to have the place cordoned off by now.”

“The garage?” John suggested.

“You think this douche has a garage?”

“Had a garage,” John corrected, “and yes.”

Kyle laughed. “Good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because I’m smarter than you, now come on.”

They found the stairs and hurried down into the “garage.” Kyle glanced about, his mouth hanging open. “This is a sports car dealership, dammit.”

“Well, take your pick and I’ll hack the thing,” John said.

“All this great loot and no way to bring it with us. Look! A 73 Yuri Zero.” He caressed the side of the older model street car. “And—and over here—this state of the art 2286 LC-Fate!” He pointed excitedly. His blood was starting to pump real fast—faster than having the cops on their tail.

“Oh! And this! This—“

“Just. Pick one!”

“Oh hells, Staxx,” Kyle said as he started feeling a bit sad.

Since they were in the penthouse, they could take a street car, but that wouldn’t work. They would have to take an aerial car. They could fly out of there. Easy.

And then his eyes landed on the crown jewel.

Holy gods.

“This one!” Kyle said.

“Of course, you choose the twenty-million dollar Corvo Onatta.” John pushed the door button and it slid out and up, revealing the driver seat. “That is a fine machine, right there.”

“Yeah,” Kyle said hurriedly, then opened his door and paused. “Um, Staxx?”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t we have one of these?”

“We do now.”

They got in, the plush-leather seats holding Kyle’s frame perfectly. They were a tacky purple-black with bright yellow stripes. Perfect, and the interior was a freakin’ spaceship.

John whipped out his mobile hacker and jammed it over the fingerprint ignition. Some sparks shot out of the console as the little piece of tech beeped and whirred with ticks and clicks as it deactivated the low jack devices and reset the ignition parameters.

“Ah,” Kyle said. “May gives us so many great toys.”

“Ever wonder what her real motive is, Max?”

“Sure,” he said, as the car started.

“We’re good to go.” John pulled back on the wheel and the vehicle lifted from the ground, then he steered the Corvo to the automatic bay door.

As soon as it opened the police aerial vehicles came into view.

“Well that’s not good,” Max said.

And then their intercom cracked. “This is the LC-Police. Turn off your ignition immediately or you will be met with deadly force.”

John pushed the intercom. “This is Max and Staxx,” he said, glancing toward Kyle, who looked at him with a goofy smile. “You can meet us with deadly force.”

And then he stepped on the ignition, accelerating from 0 to 60 in 0.73 seconds, leaving the cop junkers—which were actually quite fast and agile—in their wake as Staxx sped them toward the purple night horizon, Life City sparkling beneath them.

Kyle smacked the dash. “Yeah! he shouted. “Take it to the max, Staxx!”