Thank you, Socrates. Stephen pushed his plate away
pushing it open with a rush of cool autumn mountain air to greet him.
For a few moments, still more bullets dig into the front of the diner and its now-closed door.
Government-job-God’s arm had apparently gone slack at the sight of him
, the old cliché
Its blade was almost three feet long, the hilt bathed in the same dark shade of red.
Bullets ricocheted off of his armor and the pavement, howling away into diner behind him or the empty air around him.
Stephen hit the ground on one knee, skidded a few feet, regained his feet,
Stephen leapt over the median, making the other side and running for the far side of the road and the steep, rocky slope beyond.
Stephen didn’t even feel the bullets as the fell away from his armor in a shining spray
There were two military helicopters behind him, both of them firing adding their guns to the one-target assault.
and four missiles streaked forwards like magic