"Well, I think I've found a mode of transportation." Lev stood up, just noticing Dan had retrieved his bike.
"He went off in that direction," Dan said, pointing down the street "we should go before the cops show up."
"Right." Lev unwrapped yet another cherry flavoured blow-pop, sticking it in his mouth. "Fen, would you kindly follow me."
The two jogged about 35 feet to the 379 Custom idling on the roadside. Lev motioned Fen to the passenger side. "The driver is most likely asleep, let's make it quick." He checked the driver door, which was unlocked. Lev opened the door, staring down the barrel of a Springfield .45.
"Awlrite boy, Ima gonna tell ya one time. Git the hell away from MY truck." The trucker had his finger on the trigger, and meant business.
*Ahem* "I'm sorry, I should have knocked. I'm Agent Smith from the Department of-"
"-Transportation... Damnit I wanted to lead him on a bit."
"No time for that, we need to get moving." Fen casually removed the man's plaid red flannel shirt and put it on, then was about to break his neck when Lev interrupted.
"No! I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT!" Lev jabbed the barrel of his M29 into Fen's forehead. "I can understand collateral damage but this is unnecessary! Especially- no, never mind. Just drop the man now."
Fen's blood boiled, it showed in his eyes. Pliskin was unsure if he would have to shoot the Lycan or not; although it was his job, after all. He reluctantly let the driver fall limp over the seat, whom Lev hefted out of the truck and propped up against a parking meter. He climbed back in the truck, scooping up the 1911 that had fallen on the floorboard.
"I don't trust you Fen, and it's out of character for me to show this much mercy on a were' such as yourself. I would have put a bullet in your skull without a second thought, but something inside me said no. I pray it wasn't a mistake on my part." With that said, Lev sat the handgun on the dashboard for him to take. He glanced over at Fen before shifting the truck in gear, pedal to the metal. The massive truck lurched out of the parking lane, thick black smoke pouring from the chrome stacks.
"For cinematic effect."
"This IS my signature."