The Night-Shrike tore through the sky like a black bullet. Rick Smith sat in the cockpit. The HUD fed data directly into his mind. The hypersonic engines roared, burning pure fuel and leaving a streak of distorted air behind him.
He didn't care about stealth anymore. He didn't care about hiding from the police or Corporate Oversight.
He only cared about revenge.
The GPS pinged. City General Hospital was directly below him. Rick mentally commanded the jet to descend. The Night-Shrike dropped like a stone. It fired its vertical thrusters at the last second.
Flames scorched the hospital parking lot. Asphalt melted and bubbled. Cars parked nearby had their windows shattered from the sonic boom. Panic erupted outside the building. People screamed and ran away from the sleek, black jet resting in the center of the smoking crater.
The canopy hissed open. Rick stepped out.
