Okay, so I know I've disappeared from the face of the earth for a very very long time. Life's been really busy and I don't have that much time to write as I've used to. But anyway, I've typed up this oneshot that I thought would be a pretty unique addition to my stories.

So I've watched the movie Now You See Me 2 in the cinema not too long ago, and then decided to re-watch the first movie again since it's fun and so entertaining. Then I thought the car chase and the scene leading up to it was really cool, so PRESTO, a new oneshot from yours truly :)

Hope you enjoy! It contains NO SPOILERS for the new movie, if you're worried.

Watchful Eye

The minute the wheels of the car he was pursuing ran up the curb, his stomach dropped. Dylan could feel his insides knotted up from the tension and the worry that was threatening to overwhelm him. His heart felt as though it were clamped behind cold iron bars, and the steely chill crept through his chest.

For that moment there, Dylan felt regret. He'd must have stepped over the line this time. He'd finally pushed his Horsemen too far. Each time he led the FBI on their tails, they'd always managed to get away. Yet, just this once, his Horsemen might not have foreseen this accident.

The other three Horsemen – whose whereabouts are currently unknown – probably have not realized what have become of their youngest and fourth member of their team. But it would be all over the newspapers and television in the next few minutes, and they certainly would be devastated. The other Horsemen would no doubt seek for revenge on Dylan himself.

…Like white on rice, as Daniel Atlas so confidently stated during his past interrogation.

Dylan never actually wanted this to happen. Sure, he may seem like that around his fellow FBI, but that was just for his cover.

Deep down, he cared for his Horsemen, though they never knew him anything other than 'that bumbling, pesky FBI Agent'.

As Dylan watched the wheels of Jack Wilder's speeding vehicle spiral out of control and was launched into the air from the impact, there was nothing to do except to watch as the whole heartbreaking scene play out right in front of him as if in slow motion.

And it was during that split second did Dylan recall his whole confrontation with Jack earlier.

Dylan Rhodes was many things. He was the mastermind behind it all. He was the bumbling FBI agent that always seemed to be two steps behind the bunch of criminal magicians who proudly called themselves 'The Four Horsemen'.

But above all, a secret that was to be locked down… his true identity, that is… only to be revealed to the Horsemen should they prove themselves worthy of being part of The Eye – that he was the Fifth Horsemen.

You must be thinking: Sure, it's easy to pretend to be an FBI agent intent on getting ahead of their plans and putting the four criminals behind bars.

But quite honestly, it really isn't easy. Especially since Dylan was the one anonymously giving out the rough plans to the Horsemen to complete before being initiated into The Eye.

So basically, that meant that he was playing the FBI trying to squash out the Four Horsemen, who was unknowingly led by himself.

Pretty twisted, huh?

It was. Besides, the fact that Dylan maybe felt a certain bit of protectiveness towards his handpicked Horsemen.

Dylan pushed that last bit of his thoughts away. This was no time to be hesitating. He had to stick to his cover. It was too early in the game to let out his secret identity. Not yet.

Clutching his pistol more firmly in his hands, Dylan stepped carefully into the room, taking great care not to creak the wooden floorboards, which would otherwise give away his element of surprise if the Horsemen happened to be still in the house.

His gaze swept around the seemingly empty room, before proceeding to observe a miniature model of some sort of squarish underground room. Momentarily distracted at the curious model, Dylan loosened his grip on his pistol. With one hand, he picked up the detailed cardboard model and observed it closely.

In less than two seconds, Dylan noted that it was a very precise model of the underground bank vault duplicate that the Horsemen had used in their very first act together.

Speaking about the First Act, sure, Dylan had anonymously passed them the plans of all three Acts many weeks in advance. He'd instructed them what they had to pull off as their main outcomes in each of the three Acts. However, all the planning about exactly how to get the magic to work was totally left to the capabilities of his Horsemen to organize.

This would be their test to prove themselves worthy of being part of The Eye as a team. And after seeing their astounding First Act and mind-blowing Second Act, Dylan felt pretty confident in his hand-picked Horsemen.

Glancing at yet another well designed model which was made to look like a replica of the stage used in the Second Act, Dylan had to admit that his Horsemen did not miss a single detail. It was plenty of planning on their part.

A loud clang! brought Dylan abruptly back to the present. Before he even had time to react, he heard desperate grunts from his fellow FBI Agent Fuller, who'd come with him to search the house.

Shit! Dylan cursed in his head. Silently reprimanding himself for letting his guard down.

His hands flew back to his pistol, and he pointed it steadily towards the direction of the noise. Immediately, he was already striding towards the source of the struggle with his pistol at the ready.

Just as Dylan rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, all he managed to do was to register Fuller with his arms stuck behind in the sink with a large dish cloth gagged into his mouth, before all hell broke loose.

A figure – which he realized only a split second later was Jack Wilder, the youngest of the four Horsemen that he'd chosen – wrapped a belt around his hands so quickly that he simply had no time to react or defend himself. In a matter of seconds, his wrists were so helplessly tied together, causing the pistol he was holding to fly out of his hands and hit the most unfortunate mark.

The still-stunned Dylan was not able to move fast enough as Jack followed up with a hard elbow punch to his face. The youngest of the Horsemen was not holding back at all. Why should he anyway? To Jack, the FBI were his enemy. If he were caught again for the second time, the FBI – that meant Dylan himself – would surely be able to fish out sufficient evidence to land him a good few years in jail.

The blowing punch stung Dylan's face, and he lost focus for a short while.

If only Jack knew who he was.

Dylan gathered his senses and lunged out at the Horsemen, crashing hard onto Jack, forcing the guy backwards. If Dylan had thought this would wind Jack, he was terribly wrong. Jack was quick. As Dylan barreled straight towards him, Jack twisted around just as the two of them slammed onto a refrigerator.

Oh wait, back up a bit. Dylan was the one who got the most of the impact. Jack merely used Dylan to cushion his landing.

Jack had a small head start to get away, seeing that Fuller was out of action as long as his jacket was stuck in the dishwasher and that Dylan just had his breath knocked out of him. The kid scurried away from the kitchen and into another room.

"Dylan!" Agent Fuller yelled from the sink, trying to catch his teammate's attention.

But Dylan was too busy trying to capture his Horsemen to give Fuller a second glance.

"Come back!" Dylan shouted as Jack disappeared around the corner of a study room.

As Dylan ran into the study room after Jack, he decided that he'd put in everything he could to try and snag the Sleight. He shoved his feelings of protectiveness over his Horsemen to the side. This was a test after all.

Dylan sent a flurry of attacks and punches at the boy, who barely managed to dodge the worst of it. Jack slipped his hand into Dylan's back pocket even without the FBI agent noticing, pulled out a set of handcuffs, and snapped one side onto Dylan's right leg and the other to a wooden chair.

Another shove caused Dylan to lose his balance and stumble ungracefully to the floor.

With his right leg cuffed to the piece of furniture, Dylan could only remain splayed on the floor.

"All clear, standing by for Six." A voice said from his receiver. His backup was waiting for his orders. Maybe he could send them up here.

Dylan reached for the receiver which usually hung on his belt, only to find out that it was missing. Jack smirked back at him, his stolen receiver clutched in his hands.

Damn. He should have realized. It was the reason why he'd seen potential in this boy in the first place. He had been impressed by his skills in the sleight of hand. Now, it was being used against him.

"You little shit." Dylan snarled, focusing hard on directing his annoyance into his words, even though he was actually really, really pleased at the boy's skill.

Jack wasted no time in repeating his words. "You little shit."

Confused, Dylan threw back at him, "what game are you playing?"

Again, Jack mimicked his voice. "What game are you playing?"

It was all clear to Dylan a moment later, when Jack lifted the receiver to his lips and said in the perfect imitation of Dylan's own voice.

"We're all good at Six, move to Seven."

And with a feeling of dread, Dylan heard the FBI on the other end reply, "copy that."

So there was nothing he could do but to hear Fuller's fruitless call for help echoing from the kitchen.

Struggling to get himself back on his feet with the chair still chained to his leg, Dylan rolled to the side, narrowly missing a flaming piece of paper that Jack threw at him.

Secretly being a magician himself, Dylan recognized what Jack had thrown immediately. It was one of those papers that magicians used that could burn up quickly without leaving any trace of ashes or soot.

Dylan shot his arm out at a stand which held a few gold ornamental rods, and yanked one out, just as he saw Jack dive for a stack of papers – which was the plans that Dylan had anonymously sent – and tuck them into the folds of his leather jacket.

The boy also managed to hastily scoop up a handful of those magic paper, lit them up, and hurled them directly at him.

Well, it wasn't really a surprise to Dylan. He'd kind of seen that move coming, that's why he'd picked up the sword for defense.

Dylan whipped the stick through the air, parrying each projectile and sending the flaming scrunched up balls of paper into little orange bits which vanished into the air.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

Dylan swung his stick wildly, trying his hardest to avoid the projectiles from hitting him blow after blow.

Nine, ten, eleven…

He panted heavily. Blocking the last flaming ball of paper, and glared at the Horsemen in triumph, and realizing too late that Jack had somehow managed to snatch the rod without his noticing – which still surprised Dylan – right from under his nose.

Jack just gave him a tantalizing smirk and threw the rod upwards to the ceiling.

Dylan got his chance. The boy was celebrating too soon. His ego had gone ahead of him for that second there, which was all Dylan needed.

Whipping his foot at Jack, he kicked out hard and squarely at the boy's chest with as much force as he could muster with his heart turning soft at the last moment.

Jack stumbled backwards a few paces, tumbling into the folds of a midnight blue silk curtain.

A strange place to hang a curtain, Dylan thought, then realized that Jack must have put it there for a totally different reason.

So when Dylan launched himself with his arms outstretched towards the curtain, it was only to find that Jack wasn't hiding in there.

The sleight had vanished.

Not for long, though. Jack somehow appeared from beside the window across the other side of the room.

The fight between the two of them resumed again, with Dylan throwing boxes across the room at Jack, while the younger boy swerved to avoid being smashed by the objects.

Purely out of blind luck – that's what any non-magician would say – Dylan's kick found home. As he stuck out his foot, he managed to hook Jack's leg, tripping the boy and sending him crashing to the floor.

Dylan allowed himself some satisfaction for being ahead of Jack at this moment.

Dylan had a set of handcuffs ready in his hand. On the other hand, Jack Wilder, the infamous magician and thief was lying on the floor with no weapon nor tricks up his sleeve this time.

It also happened to be that moment as Dylan towered over the struggling boy, that he felt sorry that Jack would be soon facing yet another interrogation back at the police station. And even Dylan was sure that whatever trash talk Jack tries to do, there was no way that the other cops like Fuller would ever let him get away without a long jail term sentence.

As Jack tried to drag himself away to put as much distance between the FBI agent and himself, Dylan could feel the boy's fear, even though he tried to hide it. The truth could be seen plainly in an experienced magician such as Dylan – Jack was afraid of being sent to jail.

Once again, Dylan forced confidence into his words. "Come here!"

Dylan took another step towards Jack, the handcuffs dangling from his hands.

Jack rolled over onto his back as he faced Dylan. His arms up in surrender, and his voice shook in a final desperation to plead with him.

"W-woah! Woah! Hold on. Hold on. Hold on." Jack said hastily.

Then, the boy whipped out a bunch of cards and fanned it out in both his hands. Jack watched Dylan's reaction closely.

Completely taken aback by such a gesture, and at the same time wondering how this could possibly help the young Horsemen in his already helpless situation, Dylan frowned staring back at Jack in confusion.

"Really?" he said in disbelief that the younger man still had time for card tricks at a moment so crucial as this one.

"Yup." Jack replied with a shrug, feeling his confidence starting to sink in again.

And with that, Jack hurled the playing cards one by one. He threw them hard, fast, sending them spinning through the air in great precision. The cards, Dylan had never thought could be used as a weapon, zipped through the air directly towards him like a projectile.

Mind you, in case you thought a deck of playing cards was totally harmless, it's not. Especially when in the hands of a master magician and an expert sleight.

Dylan, however, had to learn it the hard way. The projectiles cut through the air like a knife. With the addition of speed and spin, one of them sliced open the thin skin just below Dylan's right eye, giving him a deep paper cut.

"Ow!" Dylan gasped, slapping a hand against his cheek.

The surprised FBI agent staggered back a few paces, using his hands to shield his face against the oncoming trajectory of the cards.

Jack threw the last of his cards at Fuller, who was still stuck at the sink, before turning and fleeing through the front door of the house and down the staircase.

"You little – " Dylan gritted his teeth before taking off after the boy.

So close. Dylan had been so close to capturing this one Horsemen just a few minutes earlier. But Jack had somehow managed to give him the slip. Again.

Dylan was a little bit frustrated with himself that he'd not seen that move coming. Of course Jack would've used the playing cards to defend himself. The boy had spent a good deal of his life trying to survive on card tricks and his quick hands. Playing cards had always been his element.

Even as Dylan set on a wild goose chase after Jack leapt into a police vehicle and sped off, Dylan was pleased with himself for giving Jack one of the tarot cards. Up till now, Jack was living up to his expectations, and much more. In fact, all of the Four Horsemen were.

They'd managed to perform each of their stage Acts to perfection and indescribable awe of the audience, as well as – admittedly – the FBI. They'd pulled off each trick in such a big scale even with the FBI hard on their backs. Dylan was thrilled in anticipation just by the thought of revealing his true identity as a Fifth Horsemen after their Third and last Act.

But all went wrong after Dylan regained visuals on Jack's vehicle as the boy reemerged from in front of the huge bus that was blocking his line of sight.

Dylan stared in horror as the car he was pursuing lost control. All it took was one tire of a speeding car to be lodged in the curb, before the car flipped into an uncontrollable tumble.

The tires of the car snapped off as it harshly came into contact with the gravelly road. Its aluminum body crumpled like paper as the car made two full three-sixty roll before being eventually landing upside down. The impact caused the fuel tank to be punctured and it ignited into flames immediately.

Alma, the woman from Interpol, slammed on the brakes to prevent their car from being caught up in the wreckage that was being caused by Jack's vehicle. The other FBI cars which had also been hot in pursuit screeched to a halt behind their car.

At that very instant, Dylan didn't care about the fact that the other FBI were there on the scene. He didn't care that the car he was running towards was about to blow at any moment.

Because all he could think of was the safety of his Horsemen.

Jack.

Dylan wrenched open the door of the front passenger seat and groped inside. The soot from the burning car made it difficult for him to see. The smoke caused his eyes to sting and water, clouding his vision.

Reaching out to unbuckle the seat belt in an attempt to free Jack from the car which was about to explode, Dylan's fingers fumbled on the buckle which refused to give.

His youngest Horsemen remained scarily unmoving, to which Dylan could only draw two conclusions. The boy was either unconscious or dead. And if Jack wasn't dead yet, he would soon be. The fire was licking the sides of the upturned car now, and Dylan knew, with a stabbing pain near his heart, that he was out of time.

In a blur, Dylan felt his fellow FBI Agent Fuller tug at his waist from behind, urging him to leave Jack and run for safety. The fire had finally reached the gas tank and would blow up at any second.

Fuller was pulling Dylan with so much force for an aging man.

He was about to follow Fuller and stay clear of the burning car when a roll of papers fell out of Jack's leather jacket.

Could it be the plans that Dylan had sent to the Horsemen that Jack had literally given his life to protect?

He squinted at it, but was puzzled to find that is was nothing like the stack of plans that Dylan had anonymously left for his Horsemen.

Momentarily clueless as to what Jack could possibly be doing with those papers, Dylan froze.

And as a strong gust of wind blew, the smoky interior of the car was clear for one second.

That one second was all it took for Dylan to catch a clear look at the figure still strapped into the drivers' seat. It was all Dylan needed to notice that the figure wasn't even Jack.

It was just a dummy. A dummy made to resemble the magician Jack Wilder.

But then the next moment, the wind had gone, and the smoke was thick in the air again.

Yet it was more than enough for Dylan, who could not help but let out a sigh of relief.

Snatching the fake plans which had dropped out of the Jack-look-alike's jacket, Dylan turned his back on the car and sprinted away with Fuller, trying to put as much distance between them and the burning car.

Dylan felt the force of the explosion before he even heard it. The force pushed them both onto the bonnet of Alma's car, and apart from mild bruises here and there, they escaped relatively unscathed.

Panting heavily, Dylan looked back at the ball of flames which engulfed Jack's car. He was so relieved, so happy, so pleased for his Horsemen, that he found it tough to keep his face as blank as possible for the benefit of his other FBI agents. Standing there, staring at the burning wreckage with his back to the FBI agents, Dylan felt his chest swell with pride and allowed a small smile to graze his features.

For the second time that Dylan had come right close up to his Horsemen – the first time was when he interrogated each of them in the police station – he was secretly glad that they'd managed to slip away again.

Dylan was once more reassured that his choice for the Four Horsemen were well made. They had all proven themselves to be more than worthy for being part of The Eye.

And, he thought with a smirk, he wondered how his Horsemen – especially Jack – would react when he finally revealed himself to be the Fifth Horsemen. He could almost imagine the look of utter befuddlement and regret when Jack remembered that he'd once given Dylan a good hard punch during the whole fight.

Oh, someone was definitely going to pay for that one.

Dylan had better start thinking on how he was going to get revenge on Jack for that one. Something that would get Jack begging for forgiveness…

Dylan rearranged his facial expression, and pulled his FBI agent facade back on show, before driving off with his other FBI agents.

How did you find it? Good? Bad? Please review!

There weren't many stories on this movie, so I thought I'd do one for fun :)