The masquerade (3).

A blinding golden laser burst from the barrel of his rifle, tearing through the storm and striking its target with deadly precision. The beam punched cleanly through the windshield, piercing the driver's chest. The man barely had time to react before slumping forward onto the steering wheel, his foot pushing the accelerator.

The patrol car veered sharply to the left, its tires screeching as it spun out of control. It slammed violently into the vehicle beside it, the impact crunching metal and sending sparks flying into the rain-soaked air. Both cars careened off the road, one flipping onto its side with a deafening crash, while the other plowed into a lamppost, its lights flickering and dying.

The convoy behind them screeched to a halt as the guards scrambled to assess the situation. Shouts of confusion erupted, their voices barely audible over the rain and the roaring engines.