After all, he was dead.
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"I'll just be a moment" he smiled as he excused himself to the side of the club. Leaning against the barely lit wall, he withdrew his ringing cell phone, flipped it open with one quick gesture.
"We have just now managed to pinpoint the location." it answered as he put it to his ear
"Where...?"
"Updating via GPS in real time. Stand - by."
After pressing a sequence of buttons, the small display on the interior cover had turned from a 3D graphic of a luminous redpill to a small dark blue map, complete with street names, locations of interest and a flashing red dot at its centre which according to the small HUD at the top left corner was moving at an exceptionally high speed.
Tipping his imaginary hat back to her, he moved towards the emergency exit which was lit by a glaring green sign - complete with a picture advising on how best to run incase anyone had forgotten.
Through the narrow corridor smothered with posters and advertisements for bands and artists both new and long forgotten - through the heavy red door - and onto the expansive square of light grey brick that was the car park, he opened the door to a low shaped colourless sports car. In a second, it roared to life - an echo which was considerably enhanced by the confined space, the bright white of the front headlamps reflecting in the wall.
One eye on the GPS device attached to the top of the plastic dashboard - the other on the road, weaving in and out of the other cars on it. Actually... probably caring as much not to drive into any as catching up. He was a redpill and could obtain another means of transport in no time at all; however, they were blue and as such had only one chance at life. A chance which he felt was a shame they did not feel able to take...
Having taken the cut off from the city centre to the freeway, it tore along the wide lanes - shifting from one to the next to cut in and out of the traffic. Pulling up along side the solid blue luxury saloon, it swerved sharply in front of it. Decreasing it's speed... slower and slower - the cans of metal on either side now shooting past - until it came to a stop. The one behind unable to move.
XElite again opened the door, this time getting out - his attention focused entirely on the occupant of the car behind. He could see them wind down the transparent window in order to shout some crude insults for his having blocked the way and, further, reluctancy to move. Though they were almost drowned out by the thumping music of the vehicle from which XElite had just emerged - he still did not take any notice.
As he neared the driver's door, XElite reached for a grip in his holster, producing a matte black polymer - framed .45 pistol with an attached silencer and motioned it towards the open space in the door.
He had seen him get out of the car. He had seen him reaching for something. He had seen the weapon. He had reached for the recently purchased sawn - off shotgun strapped to the underside of his hand - stitched seat. He had been too late.
A spray of bright red flew out - scattering across the entirety of the dim yellow interior of the car. Such a mess...
