You cling to Luan’s waist as he hits the throttle on his Yamaha, speeding through the streets of New York. Sirens wail behind you! the police are right on your tail. Luan shouts over the roar of the engine, “Hold on tight! They’re right behind us!” He takes a sharp turn, tires screeching. You’re almost at headquarters. Luan then takes a sharp turn down an alleyway.
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