Joy ride (part1): Stealing

sightseeing

James runs like the wind; this time not heading towards the deep jungles, but the other way. Into the city of Birnin Zana. As dense and thickly populated as any forest, the city stretches out from the Royal Caste in all directions but the jungle road into the mountains. A cobble web of towers and storied roads three, four levels high, metal like lace and glass like mirrors gleaming up into the sky above.

James has had the whole day to study its intricate roads from above; its winding ways and lattice frameworks. On top of that he is an expert at managing the complications of city escapes. He's been taught the theories; has studied every map of every American city repute, and quite a few Eastern, European, and Arabian ones. Add to that decades of experience, oh yes: he has escaped pursuit through the bustle of Hong-Kong, followed a mark through a Brazillian Carnaval without missing a step, filled in missing intelligence with instincts and training in too many places to name; too often. James is, and will always be the proverbial homing pigeon, like there's a compass lodge somewhere in his brain, making the one on his arm excess and overkill. James is..

James is completely lost within a minute of hitting the streets of Birnin Zana.

It's just that nothing makes sense in Birnin Zana. The maps in his head are of no use as soon as he's a few levels down, finding a whole new under the city. And, it's completely disorientating: he runs past an ancient looking carpet shop, the street winding up with the mountain, takes a turn, cuts back and somehow ends up on a field of sweetcorn, hemmed in between towers reaching up for the sky. Another twist back, trying a stairway heading down and he's suddenly in an all-night mall. A crowded mall, with signs for subways and light-rail. And.

And he'd hit those. The light-rails and subways. Anywhere else, he'd disappear into the crowds and be one with them. Become one with the bustle and fade away. But, he gets so many bewildered looks, too many confused glances. James cuts right back out, ducking away into an alcove. Obviously, Wakanda may have nominally opened its borders, but a white man is still an oddity here. Moreso, -and James doesn't know why he would be surprised- a disheveled hobo is an even greater oddity. And that's definitely the look he's sporting by now: a crazy, wild hobo at that.

He presses deeper into the alcove right as a group of Jabari file in. For once, it's not the mixed teams. Why becomes obvious a moment later, when M'Baku himself walks into the open space. He's cradling something against his chest, the other hand hefting that impressive club again. James stares from his hiding place, watching as he hands over the object to one of his men, earthenware browns flashing only a moment. M'Baku has got his Chalice back.

James curses, and is of half a mind to take it back on principle. But, he relinquished it once already. He is still half of a mind to step out in to open though; have it out right now. But then two Dora/Jabari teams come in through another ingress. And soon the first bewildered shopper is lifting a finger, pointing James's way. He's too close, there will be too many people walking in. It is time to get moving.

That, at least, he can do. James is fucking fast. No-one on foot can keep up, and he's yet to see a car that can tackle these little bystreets and alleyways that run through the heart of Birnin Zana. Back up a level he runs into more teams, and several are riding air-born motorbikes, so he cuts, cuts again and takes the steepest stairs, the narrowest walkways. No unenhanced individual can keep up with that, not even on a bike. James already knows that as long as they fail to corner him: no-one can keep up.

No-one but the Black Panther himself. Of course, the next turn of a winding street has James facing right off with the king. James doesn't even slow; only changes directions; up a wall two steps, grabbing a window sill and hoisting himself onto a landing one story up.