Your training doesn't cover this level of insanity. The only hope you have is to get back to base and hope that the boys in the lab can figure out what's up with you. It isn't as if you can continue to follow the trail of the men you were after in any case, as every second puts them further from you than your car can cover in a minute.
It still feels rotten in your gut, a punch to everything you stand for, to let them get away, but you know that you have no choice. Spinning the wheel in your hands, you abruptly bring your car around one-eighty and speed off home.
At least, you hope that that's the way you're headed; at this scale, you're not too confident of exactly where within the city you are, and getting lost will eat hours into your journey.
Luckily, you do still have your radio within the car. You zap it on and hope that the miniaturisation process hasn't shorted it out or something.
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