The Art of the Con (???xMReader)

Chapter XVI - Catch Me If You Can

A bullet fractured the window of a neighboring car that Y/N ran by. He had a target. He had a goal. Just gotta avoid getting shot now.

He dashed by the next car, gunshots burrowing themselves into the side of it as nearby civilians screamed in fear.

He glanced behind him. A small group had branched away from the main squadron, attempting to cross the pedestrian-filled streets. The main squadron, pistols in hand, continued to fire on him. A flash of light lit up from the top of one of the black SUVs. Instinctively, Y/N dropped to the ground as a bullet whizzed by, grazing his face and embedding itself into the concrete sidewalk. Damn, sniper.

He continued to move forward, sprinting to the corner of the neighboring park. To his right, he saw another small force in black closing in on him. Probably the ones that followed them initially to Gate 4.

He flew up the adjacent staircase at the edge of the park and turned left. He glanced behind him again. The squadron with the sniper had moved from their post, advancing on his location. The other squadrons had merged and closed in on the staircase. He turned back to his path to find anything that he could use to his advantage. To his disappointment, a small track stadium rested there. Too open, he thought. I'd be easy pickings out there.

He took a couple of big steps forward. A big fence lined the edge of the court. He could hear heavy footsteps stomping up the steps. It was now or never. He gave a running start and hoisted himself over the railing, falling down into the shrubbery down below.

"Hey! Where'd he go?"

Y/N stood motionless beneath them as the squadron moved above them. He listened to the shuffling of feet above him as he observed his surroundings for his next move.

"Sweep the area for the target."

The track stadium wasn't an option anymore. Running out into the park was a suicide task; they'll probably still be able to shoot him in the dark. The shrubbery continued down the side of the park for some while. Might as well, he thought as he moved as stealthily as he could.

The leaves crunched noisily beneath his feet no matter how silently he tried. The squadron moved more noisily above. It wouldn't be long before they check out below them. He adeptly maneuvered his way through the greenery and slowly moved along the side of the wall.

He could hear chatter, a radio perhaps. The two squadrons probably didn't merge to search the track stadium, possibly staying separate to cover more ground. He continued to move down the side, wary of the scuffle above him. Silently, stealthily, he kept his eyes primed on his left, careful of the sniper's squadron. He crept slowly, head-turning in all directions. He could not be caught by surprise. Not yet. Not now. He had to get back. His movements lightened as he continued to creep along the wall's side.

In the distance, he saw a pedestrian overpass right next to a full parking lot.

That's it, he thought. That's my escape route.

He quickened his pace, rustling past the trees and bushes placed there. The lamps on the side of the walking path barely illuminated his path as he trekked through the plants.

Almost there. Almost scot-free.

He began to advance forward when he froze. A large stretch of open concrete laid between him and the staircase. The moment he steps out, he's an open mark. Anyone could see him. Y/N carefully weighed his options. Stay, get caught. Go, risk death. Neither one was very convincing, but he didn't have much of a choice? He braced himself. One chance to not be seen. One chance to get it right. One chance to not fail.