The weather was perfect—clear skies and sunshine. Visibility was excellent and there was no wind—an ideal day for skydiving.
At a private members-only club in the outskirts of Los Angeles, a garden party was underway on the lawn inside the estate. Well-dressed politicians and business elites stood in small groups, chatting.
The roar of an engine approached from a distance. A red Porsche convertible slowly pulled up, and a middle-aged man in a suit stepped out with his attractive female companion.
The man casually tossed his keys and a ten-dollar tip to a nearby valet. As he did, he noticed a bit of a tattoo peeking out from the valet's sleeve. He frowned in disgust and stepped back slightly, clearly repulsed.
"Dick, welcome!"
The host of the party came up to greet him. The middle-aged man, named Dick, shook his head and said bluntly, "George, when did you start using Mexicans as waiters? And with tattoos, no less..."
George looked stunned, then replied with a bit of confusion, "Mexicans? No way. You know how much I hate hiring Mexicans. All my staff are proper white folks..."
"No? Then who was that guy…"
Dick turned to point him out, only to see the valet stepping hard on the gas, the red Porsche screaming as it shot out of the club gates.
"Wha… what the hell—oh, shit! Someone stole my car! Goddammit, this is bullshit! Hello, police? This is California State Senator Dick Hall. My car's been stolen—yes, damn it, I said stolen! It just got taken right in front of me. Send someone now!"
Senator Dick screamed furiously into the phone.
…
Not far from the club, Owen, Mia, and Dom's girl Letty were waiting by the roadside. Nearby, Roman was ready with a tow truck.
The roar of the engine grew louder, and soon the red Porsche convertible appeared. Dom drove it up and stopped in front of them. As soon as the car came to a stop, Owen, Mia, and Letty began rigging it with cameras.
Since he couldn't talk Dom out of it, Owen decided he had to be there to witness this moment. Dom might succeed—or he might die.
Faking a camera rig was simple—they taped two cameras onto the car to capture footage from the front and the side.
Once everything was ready, Owen pressed the record button and gave Dom a thumbs-up. Dom jumped into the driver's seat and took off.
…
Woo-woo-woo~~~~
The urgent wails of sirens rang out. Finally, after a long wait, the police arrived.
Dom whistled as if he'd been waiting for his beloved to show up, then drove forward. As the police reached the scene, they spotted the red Porsche and immediately gave chase.
Dom led them on a merry chase, toying with the patrol cars as if walking a dog. While driving, he spoke into the camera with a grin:
"Hear those sirens? All for this one car. Three police cruisers are chasing me because of it.
This car isn't mine—it's Dick's. Senator Hall Dick, California. This red Porsche belongs to him. This guy's an asshole—he proposed banning rap music because he thinks it promotes violence. The guy doesn't know the first thing about music.
He's the same guy who wants to ban video games because he thinks they're rotting kids' brains. Come on, Senator Dick—do you even know what a video game is?"
Dom continued his rant into the camera while casually weaving the Porsche through the country roads. No matter how hard the cops pushed their cruisers, they couldn't catch up.
The Porsche flew down the narrow country roads like a gust of wind, sending fallen leaves swirling in its wake. The sirens blared behind him, but the gap never closed.
Dom made no effort to shake them—he simply strung them along, tossing jokes to the camera every few seconds.
"Bull, they're heading toward the Karachisov Bridge. Take your men and block the far end—I'd like to see where they run now…"
The officer in the lead cruiser radioed ahead, visibly fuming. Of course they knew Dom was toying with them, but they had no choice. Their cars were underpowered. Even pedal to the floor, they couldn't catch the Porsche.
A $200,000 Porsche could lose their $30,000 patrol cars in seconds if it really wanted to.
Up ahead, the Karachisov Bridge loomed into view—a metal truss bridge spanning the gap between two mountains. At the far end of the bridge, several police cruisers were already waiting in a roadblock.
They watched as the Porsche roared onto the bridge, grinning with anticipation. Where would he go now? Unless he had wings, there was no escape.
They pictured Dom being forced to stop and surrender, and couldn't help but smirk.
But then they noticed something odd—the Porsche didn't slow down. In fact, it was accelerating.
What the hell? The officers suddenly had a bad feeling.
A second later, they spotted a flatbed truck parked in the middle of the bridge. The bed of the truck formed a ramp, connecting the ground to the guardrail like a makeshift launchpad.
"No, no, no, no, no, no~~~~~"
Please don't. That's a state senator's car. A convertible Porsche worth hundreds of thousands. Dear God, don't do something stupid—nooo…
On the bridge, Dom stood up on the driver's seat just as the car hit the ramp. The Porsche launched off the bridge at 120 km/h, and Dom jumped free midair.
In that instant, time seemed to slow down. The stunned faces of the cops, the spinning tires of the Porsche, the birds flapping their wings in the sky…
From the valley floor, Owen sat in a parked car and watched, heart pounding, as one man and one car soared into the sky. The guy actually did it—he jumped. It was insane.
But open the chute—why wasn't he opening it?
Owen's heart leapt into his throat. Beside him, Letty screamed in panic, "Open the chute! Open the chute! Open it—now!!"
BOOM—a loud pop. Just when everyone thought it was too late, Dom's parachute finally deployed.
The rectangular glider chute opened, and under Dom's skilled control, he began a smooth descent. Two ropes trailed from his feet—tethered to the cameras that had been mounted on the Porsche.
Dom was in the air, while the Porsche plummeted like a rock, crashing into the rocky riverbed and exploding into a fireball. The luxury car was instantly reduced to a pile of flaming scrap.
Cheers erupted from below—Owen, Mia, Roman, and Letty all screamed in excitement. Dom had done it. He had conquered the Karachisov Bridge—and trashed Senator Dick's beloved car in the process.
A shadow descended as Dom landed safely. Owen ran over to help pack up the parachute while Roman retrieved the two cameras.
"Dom, that was insane—you actually did it!"
Inside the car, Owen hugged Dom. He'd never do something that crazy himself, but that didn't stop him from admiring Dom. The guy was absolutely nuts—but he pulled it off.
Roman checked the footage and laughed. "This is gold. We can cut it into an epic video."
A minute later, the group had packed everything up and drove away—while the cops up on the bridge could only stare helplessly, unable to do a thing.
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