Finish the job.

“You did fine.” You reply. “Now, if I know Mr. Andersen, he’s going to turn down the nearest county road to try to lose the choppers. That’ll also ditch the one with brake problems, and that lead car will only be a concern until their battery burns out.” You decide to accelerate the process, telekinetically moving the switches to activate the car’s CD player and air conditioner. Sure enough, You see through the driver’s eyes that the battery indicator needle is now descending at a visible rate.

“We’ve got a problem.” the driver says. “I think we’ve lost our alternator!”

“Damn it! Radio for assistance!” says one of the other men in the car, not realizing that you had disconnected the internal wiring of their radio.

“It’s dead!” The driver reports, then swears under his breath.

“Control? This is Agent Hooks via cell phone, we are under telekinetic attack!” one of the agents in the back seat says. You promptly short out the cell phone.

“I guess there’s no more need for subtlety.” you say, insinuating your image and voice over the agents’ perceptions. By reflex, the agents pull their guns and open fire. Agent Hooks, in the back seat, is the only one that manages to avoid being killed by his comrades.

“Damn you, Phillips!” the man exclaims, unbuckling his seatbelt and diving for the steering wheel.

“Sorry, you don’t have that authority.” You reply, removing your psychic presence from the car. With the dead driver’s foot flooring the accelerator, Agent Hooks has no time to make the sharp turn that follows. The car plows into a large oak tree, and he is launched through the windshield, barely missing the tree himself, and lands in a big pile of sand. He is several hours in reawakening. He tries to walk, but his leg is broken and poking through his skin. He has to crawl to the road and hope he doesn't get run over by some kid sneaking around the speed traps.