A Fistful of Wolves-Novel Excerpt
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Two international heroes from opposite sides of the tracks come together to stop a common enemy, whose brilliant schemes are intended to overthrow the world!
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In a few short minutes, Jake Dagger 222 and Rickshaw Hendrickson found themselves securely fastened, each one, to the frame of a chair in the basement garage. It was dark, for the dim light's glow was enhanced by the rough concrete and metal. Many cars and vehicles remained housed in their lots, safe and avoiding trouble. Trouble that the two adventurers had brought.
Before Hendrickson stood Shra Brea; his hands on a lethal looking dagger with a small battalion of Thuggee Thieves behind him, backing him up. Standing in front of Jack was the menacing 7ster; his own marauding group of Communist Commandos strengthening him as he swung his deadly bear trap in his hands. Superior Johnston, clad in his matching tan and white suit came to bear on the two heroes as they sat helplessly back to back, each wearing their own faces of distress: Rickshaw with his glare
and Dagger with his ruse smile. With the items still in his protected hands, he spoke with a satisfied smile.
"The hotel's security would've turned you over to the police for questioning and incarceration, but my methods are more direct and permanent."
With his smile founded in place he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Double pairs of headlights appeared with one at the end of each tunnel; with Rickshaw and Jack placed at the center
of the long, cement corridors. The engines of the large vehicles roared to life as Superior continued.
"Permanent to a fault." He grinned wide as the bound remained their fixed views on him.
"Blister kissin' rough water runnin' shark dart." Rickshaw seethed, "I'll see your head bent on a pole, Johnston."
"Jut alors," Jack mumbled, "harsh words does damage to ze ears."
Superior turned to him. "Your polite methods portray your good taste, Triple Two." He stopped, looking them over. "You don't know each other, do you?"
Rickshaw snarled, "Introductions ain't me cup o' tea."
Superior stood straight. "Really. Then allow me introduce you both to your traveling partners. Archaeologist, meet Jack Dagger, Triple Two. And France's best spy, meet Australia's Rickshaw Hendrickson."
There was a brief introduction as each person mumbled their 'hellos' and tried to shake their bound hands. Superior smiled as he held the items, and watched them.
"And, there are some other people waiting to say good bye, also."
The Sevenster then walked up close and grabbed Jack harshly by the throat and started to crush it as Shra Brea held forth his knife and dipped the edge into Rickshaw's chest; drawing blood and urging him to scream. The 7ster finished by raising his fist and delivering a crushing blow to Jack's jaw, issuing blood from his mouth.
Superior stepped away from Hendrickson as Shra Brea did his deed, leaving the artifact close to his feet. He then displayed the same action by leaving the chip at Dagger's feet while the engines continued to roar. Superior and his men then stepped back to a safe distance.
Superior wore a delighted smile as he gave his nemesis‘ their final address. "It is with much sorrow that it must end this way. I'm sure you would both be overwhelmed when you discover my true intentions I have planned with these items at the Courthouse tomorrow at nine in the morning. And you
will have lost it all before your very eyes!"
His hand was raised and then dropped. And as Rickshaw's voice spewed forth vile, yet harmless obscenities, the two vehicles echoed their tires screeching on the pavement floor with such loud abrasion that his words were smothered by the booming torrent. As the two vehicles raced towards them, their lights blinding their delicate eyes, Jack looked over to the speeding cars. Gazing straight forward, the 7ster still stood before him. Escaping from this trap would be no difficult job, but getting around the large henchman, whose task would undoubtedly be to keep him there, would indeed be another matter. If only their roles were switched!
Hendrickson's ideals were a bit different as the engines grew louder and the lights burned brighter. All he could think about were his failures in the past at following up in the pursuit of the Saushee rattle. People mocked him, teachers rivaled him, and killers hunted him. It was to be in his far
fighting existence to win the prestige, power, and money his battles brought him. And death was not going to come here, for he had come over world, across land, through, around, and above enemies like Shra Brea to get here. That crimson clad creation was not going to stop him.
Superior watched in patient suspense as his mob co-workers followed his heeds to stand ground while the cars gained towards them. In an abrupt screech, the cars tore loose with a mighty explosion of power and pressed forward. The side door of one, and then the other opened up and the drivers dove out to impact with direct pain with the hard, steel gray floor. They looked up through the pain with hopes to see their master's plan accomplished to view the vehicles cruising to kill.
The time was right and now, Rickshaw thought, as the vehicles had created a barrier of tension on everyone's hearts and he reached up into his sleeve to find his discovered object.
Jack squinted his eyes to shade the glare of the run-away car as his fingers fumbled for his belt. In a moment, a sharp 'twange' released a blade hidden there. The blade flipped up, slicing the binds with little difficulty, allowing him to get to his feet.
Rickshaw's knife was in his hands, and as the cars smashed headfirst into each other, he was free from the scene and attacking Shra Brea.
The windshield's smashed into a glittering spectacle of raining debris as metal was bent into ugly and useless shapes of twisted origin. The frame was bent into patternless terrain with consuming fire while the hood's inners rushed up to be exposed into the open. Axles snapped, tires popped free, trunks collapsed, and grates tore. The spectacle of the scene was the exploding crack similar to a thousand metal cymbals cracking in endless moments like the crashing of a wave.
The brief distraction caught everyone so far off guard, only Shra Brea and the 7ster were prepared to face Rickshaw and Dagger's attacks.
Rickshaw rolled free of the doomed chair and snatched the glove with the artifact in his left hand, then held his knife g up to the undaunted, masked figure.
Jack leaped free of his own fiery death with a kick directed towards the Sevenster's chest. His foot was grabbed by a strong hand while in the air and thrown aside. Jack landed roughly from the fall and thought to grab his gun when he viewed the destruction ending and the soldiers of Superior starting to advance upon them as Superior shouted orders.
Rickshaw slashed at Shra Brea, hoping to catch him off guard, but pain found his hand before the blade could find his mark. He released the weapon, letting it clatter to the ground as Shra Brea held up his own swift knife, stained red from Rickshaw's blood. In a separate flash, Rickshaw was viewing his enemy's swords. He then noticed Shra Brea's follower's approaching him.
Dagger noticed he didn't have much options left: face another nasty tangle with the 7ster plus face a quicker and painful execution, or retreat. Without arguing further he snatched the microchip and prepared to run for Kelly and their coup. But the 7ster stood in his way with his lackeys not far behind with guns, leaving him no little choice. He turned and fled for the rear of the hotel.
Hendrickson still was fond of gambling, but didn't like these odds. He made mention to his mind about his goal. He had the artifact, so dancing the Time Waster with Superior's rough-necks didn't help him any. And neither did the fact that Shra Brea's swords were disrupting his flight path.
He cursed his luck once again, then turned and fled, with the artifact in his gloved hand, towards the front, knowing full well his getaway car and Mike were still idling in the back.
Superior watched as his precious items to his ultimate plan disappeared out the doors. His organized mind was in full, creative swing as he shouted orders. His men ran to obey, climbing in their cars and loading their weapons. Red and black clothed individuals heeded to his call as members of his plan followed through with his beckoning.
Old jeeps, motor cycles, and a huge military truck rolled out of the garage carrying Shra Brea and his warriors. The 7ster followed after in sporty Oldsmobiles with gunsmen in the
seats.
They all drove away in the pursuit of their acclaimed criminals as Superior watched, watched and laughed.
Jack clambered out the back exit, knowing with full intent that he had a large group of ruffians on his tail to tangle with, unless he could speedily vacate the premises. Finding himself in the back alley, he searched for a location to make his stand when he spotted a dull-tan jeep idling nearby with a beautiful blonde waiting behind the wheel.
Details escaped his mind as he dashed forward and hopped in the passenger's seat. The woman looked over at him with surprise, then started to speak. Jack cut her off.
"Listen carefully for both our sakes. If you do not drive now, peril may soon run us through."
Mike faltered. "I'm supposed to be waiting for..."
A loud, metal-wrenching crunch instinctively made them look back behind them, just to see Shra Brea's large military truck tumble through the alley behind them, bashing aside trash
bins and waste bags.
Mike shot a glance towards the door for one more moment, hoping to see Rickshaw come bursting through the door as Dagger shouted.
"Haste does not make healthy advantages in this situation!"
The large truck bore down upon them as Mike bit back her tongue's desires, then shifted the jeep into gear and tore out of the alley.
Rickshaw stumbled out into the street; his artifact still tight in his hand. Traffic rang their horns and swerved to miss him as he looked about for a chance to escape. He knew it would only be a short matter of time until Superior's forces would be burying his broken body under their tires into the
pavement. A red coup caught his vision as it sat nearby the hotel as if waiting for something. It was as good as he was to get.
Risking getting hit by the traffic, he lunged forward and jumped in the passenger seat. The driver, a luscious brunette, was caught by surprise.
"Are you out of your mind?" she stammered.
Rickshaw's gun was on her in a second.
"Drive, for both our sakes."
Kelly paused as she looked for Jack. "I'm afraid I must decline..."
Hendrickson leaned over and peered at her. "If you don't drive, you might never be afraid again... you'll be dead. And not by me 'and."
A series of screeching tires and gunned engines informed them of the four black Porshes that tore into rear view mirror's gaze. Kelly and Rickshaw both spun around to catch the view of the sable cars entering the pursuit as Rickshaw yelled.
"Drivel Now!"
Kelly bit her lip as she watched the entrance for hopes of Jack running out to her. Waiting one last second, she spun the wheel and burst into traffic.
Mike swung out into the street, revving the engine and punching the pedal with a question on her mind. The enemies following her she knew to be quite lethal, but she didn't know a thing about the seemingly insane passenger, and that made her just as nervous.
She shot a glance to him as he pulled out his pistol and took a few crack shots at their followers. "Who are you, and what have you done with Rickshaw?"
His response was not one to care for.
"Keep driving! I am no one to find amusing. Tell me quickly, dear. Are zere any weapons in zis vehicle?"
Mike paused, trying to think as she changed lanes and swerved through a left turn as the light changed.
Their followers did as they also did, while swerving to miss a bus.
"We've only got the tools and stuff in the back." she replied.
Jack muttered something ironic and sarcastic before replying. "Zen it seems we are done for."
Mike dribbled her fingers on the steering wheel with a grin. "Not on your life."
She spun the wheel once more with enough friction and gravity, Jack clung on for his life as she threw the vehicle into a wild turn thick of wheels screaming and components hurting.
"Hang on!" she shouted as she came out of the dive and straightened out. She hit a parking entrance, snapping the gate clean off while their attackers resumed the chase. Mike maneuvered through the empty lots as the Thieves ganged closer. Arrows started flying their way as Mike gunned the engine through the obstacles.
Jack looked back as one of Superior's guards jumped back onto the jeep's back seats and started climbing to the front; knife in play. Dagger grabbed the knife and tore it away, then delivered a blow to his face to cast him clear of their safety. Safety that seemed to diminish.
"Hang on!" Mike shouted again, and Jack looked back as she rammed the wall, throwing debris in multiple directions, and then landing with a shock to the shocks.
Rickshaw's pistol rang time and again after each time he reloaded, but his shots proved ineffective. The four black Porshes remained in close pursuit while zigging and zagging to stay close to Kelly's driving.
"Did you bring these clowns, mister?" Kelly replied sharply, "Or are they friends of yours?"
Rickshaw ducked quickly as a barrel and a head popped out of the side of one of the cars, letting loose a wild torrent of bullets that echoed off the car's body. He then looked to her.
"I don't know these mugs, sweet 'eart, and I wouldn't 'ang around 'em. They're not me type."
"Well," she said, throwing the car into a wild spin around the corner, "they are Jack's type. So what have you done with him?"
Hendrickson struck his face near hers. "If I were you, I'd worry about yourself. Besides, I don't know any Jack. Let's just loose these ‘ere losers."
"Yes, sir." Kelly shouted with a smile, "Brace yourself!"
Throwing the wheel, she turned the car up on the sidewalk. The left tire hit a cart and threw them up to drive on two tires. Their opponents gained on them on their left, still on the street, shooting at them repeatedly with their wild guns and aiming. As customers dove for safety, their bullets searched
for a vital spot in the car's armored underside while Kelly's car crashed through tables, chairs, and awnings.
The head car soon came clear of bullets, and stopped to reload as they neared a caf'e. With Kelly's left tires still high in the air, they approached two lovers deep in their romantic embrace. The car's tires passed straight over their heads before the bullets came again.
Kelly came to the end of the block and swerved around the corner, dropping all tires back on the ground. The pursuers turned in close chase as Rickshaw quickly put on his seat belt.
Mike moved through the fast traffic with her foot switching as rapidly from the gas to the brake as her hands spun the wheel. Jack was tiring of finding time to reload his bullets between knocking Thieves off the car.
Dagger bounced in his seat as he discovered two broken barriers flying off the hood and then the rough turbulence of the ground below them. Passing his eyes forward, he found notice of the road construction crew darting for safety as the jeep bounced over the broken road. The squad of following killers halted all but two jeeps, who continued over the rocky terrain. The others fled to another direction.
Their shattered road swerved downward, and the three vehicles dove down a dark tunnel, allowing their headlights to come into play.
Mike then slammed on her brakes, bringing their vehicle to a stop before a large wall. Dagger thought of some action to take as the headlight of the aggressors bore down on them.
Their tires suddenly spun out as Mike threw the wheel to the left, and they tore through a darkened tunnel they had not first seen, ripping apart a large banner marked, "No admittance."
They found themselves in a large, underground sewer tunnel with thugs still behind them with deadly intention. Large puddles were disturbed from the tires‘ crashing, and gushes of liquid spun off from the tires, only to spill over the vehicle. Jack found his eyes popping open from the atmosphere
as he intentionally kept his breath closed. Mike seemed unaffected as she kept her eyes fixed before them.
Sunlight opened up, and the tires climbed out of the well through a large opening to find where the other henchmen of Professor Johnston had gone to wait for them. The two cycles blocked their path before them as Thuggee Thieves readied their weapons.
While Jack braced himself, Mike floored it, smashing apart the two cycles to the ground and shattering their frames. She then, with a grit on her teeth, brought the jeep to a stop and shifted it into gear. As the Thieves ran up to them, shooting their spears off the windshield and babbling in their own
language, Mike pressed the accelerator, and the jeep spun away backwards. She kept her head back to see where she was going as she smashed through a fence and drove into a construction site. It didn't take long for Shra Brea to start up his truck, gather his men, then continue after them into the site.
Dagger was leaning over the windshield, firing at them when his gun went silent. He argued with the fact for a moment, then placed the gun back in it's holster. Looking in the back, he spied a shovel. He jumped to grab it despite Mike's crazy backward driving, and picked it up. The murderers were gaining very close as Mike drove near a fuel truck. Dagger swung at it, knocking the gas cap off. The pale fuel flowed from the tanks out onto the dusty soil as the jeep passed by. The group bent on their destruction passed through and over the growing puddle as Jack came underneath a large electrical wire. One swipe at the wire from the shovel brought it sailing down to touch into the open fluid.
With the two jeeps engulfed and every bit destroyed as the rush of fire exploded deep into the open air, the large truck still emerged through the wave of violent flames. Jack grimaced as he shouted to Mike. "Where's the nearest freeway exit?"
Kelly was having difficulty on the crowded streets, as the caravan of black cars stayed close to her with every step. Rickshaw was still shooting ineffectively at the cars as the driver of the coup pressed a hidden button. A panel slid back near the seat, exposing several knobs, switches, and dials. She pressed a button now, and the bullet proof top of the car rolled up and over, cutting their enemy's target off from their sights.
"There's nowhere to maneuver on this road." she complained.
Rickshaw pointed to an alley off to the side.
"Take a right."
"What? What right..." Kelly argued, but Rickshaw's finger jabbed at the direction. Spinning the wheel and crossing her fingers, they tore off the street into the darkened alley, where the ground was littered with cans, garbage bags, dumpsters, and all types of trash.
The coup tore into the crowded alley, and Kelly immediately started to respond to the terrain. The four Porshes remained Close behind with a professional edge of driving.
"You're going to have to use the weapons systems." Kelly called to Hendrickson, who sat taken aback, then licked his lips with a question.
"Just press the buttons." she redirected her phrase.
Rickshaw nodded and quickly pressed one.
Two missile tube extended out of the back and spat out twin clouds of smoke. The following cars dodged clear of the deadly protrusions, and the missiles soared past all four cars into a huge relay tower, throwing up a cloud of fire and debris.
"Nice shot, you." Kelly glared as she drove, then stopped her sarcasm when the image in her rear view mirrors showed the tower topple over into the alley and demolish the trailing car, sending up plates of steel and fiery obstacles.
Rickshaw was in the spirit of things as he turned a dial and pressed four buttons in sequence. He looked back to see exactly what he'd done, hoping his luck would still be with him.
As the tires spun, antennae from the center of the wheels poked out; the dual bladed hubcaps extending on the end. Motors hidden in the depth of the car suddenly rotated the hubcaps in the opposite direction of the car, then released them to spin towards the three cars behind them.
It appeared to Kelly as she drove, that these organized madmen were prepared for anything. At the first sight of the antennae, they prepared their reflexes. As each menacing blade flashed back towards them, the cars steered out of the way. Kelly was starting to assume the worst, when the lead car lunged to steer clear of the last blade, only to drive head first into a huge dumpster, wiping out its
windshield and ruining metal.
With the last two in closer pursuit, Rickshaw hit another button, then looked back to see nothing happen.
"You just turned the antennae into the switch blades. That's only effective when they're beside you." Kelly complained.
"Well," Rickshaw complained back, "I don't 'ear you givin' any ideas."
The antennae produced small shards of sharp metal that folded outward, then the whole contraption spun in direction, searching for something to bite it's blades into. A large bag of flour proved to be just that thing, and as the bag was shred, clouds of white powder exploded into the air and settled on the hoods and windshields. The drivers spun to remain in control as Rickshaw crowed with delight, then victoriously punched two more buttons.
Two tubes dropped down beneath the fender as two more tubes extended out the sides. Oil, slick and hard to stand on, suddenly coated the road from the back tubes as the side panels
spewed forth fire. The oil caught aflame, bringing the cars to crash into the side buildings.
Kelly and Rickshaw cheered as they drove another block, then came out onto the road, where they pulled into traffic.
Their smiles melted when six black Oldsmobiles turned the corner and entered into the chase.
Jack watched in horror as they were forced to slow down at the sight of a traffic jam. Rows of cars sat bumper to bumper with horns blaring and various calls issuing forth. Mike was the first to complain.
"You said take the freeway! I did just that..."
Jack leaned over and stared at her while her rampant speech silenced.
"I didn't ask for a detailed account on whose fault it was. Zis is merely a case of back luck. Luck we will have to deal wiz."
Mike turned her eyes from his to the rear view mirror to see the remaining military truck pull in and stop in line behind the cars that had just pulled in behind them. The Thuggee Thieves were now climbing out of the back of the truck and pulling their swords free from their sheaves; coming between
the aisles of cars for them.
"And fast." she stated.
Dagger spun around to see the similar fate. He reached in his jacket and retrieved his pistol, only to rediscover it was out of bullets.
"Zis may take some serious doings." he mumbled as he jumped in the back seat. He didn't have to search long to discover what he had thought, and hoped. The true owner of the jeep was an outdoorsman, and something of a mechanic. Tools, pipes, dynamite, coolers, and knives
were littered in the back. As he searched harder through the rubble, he discovered more pieces to fit into his equation. An equation that might save their lives.
"What are you doing?" Mike asked, keeping her eyes stuck on the red clad individuals making their way down the rows of cars.
Jack answered as he grabbed the cooler and a knife. "I'm stretching our resources." He slit the knife in the back of the chair as Mike screamed.
"Why did you do that?"
Jack faced her momentarily, as he pulled the foam padding out and stuffed it in the cooler. "Would you prefer your own hide shred to ribbons, or the hide of zis chair?" Without any
further comment, Jack continued working as Mike sat forward and eyed the traffic jam with distaste.
"Rickshaw's gonna kill me."
The Thieves were gaining closer as Triple Two poured a gallon of gasoline into the cooler from a tub he found next to the spare, then reached for the lighter. He activated it and placed it in the container. The large cooler of custom-made napalm fired up in a flash of brilliance as Jack reach down and poured it into the road, right before the amazed Thieves.
Mike watched impressed as Jack turned to her. “Zat will only hold zem hack for so long. We must escape. I believe I can design anozer weapon if you can provide me wiz some time."
Mike revved the engine and smiled. "Hey, this is an all terrain vehicle. Just hang on."
With her eyes on the road, she moved the car into gear as the Thuggees fought to get through the flames. Several jumped through with their robes burning, yet they attempted to climb up into the jeep. Mike hit the accelerator, and the tan vehicle lunged forward, only for her to slam on the brakes.
The jeep rolled forward, and on the bounce, Mike gunned the engine.
The front tires popped up into the air, throwing off the flying attackers and nearly dumping Dagger on top of them, and came down on the top of the vehicle stuck in the jam ahead of them. Mike shifted gears as the fire dwindled and the Thuggees rushed through. The jeep suddenly climbed up on top of the jam and bounced along cars, tops, hoods, and windshields at a slow pace.
Jack held on tight as the slow moving jeep gained advanced territory over their attackers. He smiled as the shouts of passengers and drivers mixed with honking and beeping horns roughly scolded them.
Jack turned to Mike as they carefully rolled along. "It appears your stunt has saved our lives."
A sharp hiss of air planted an arrow inches away form Dagger's face into the back of a chair. with a cry, a red dressed assailant dove into the back of the jeep. After a brief struggled, Jack planted his foot in the man‘s chest and kicked him off onto another car.
"Got any more bright ideas?" Mike asked about them and more Thieves closed in.
"My creativity is at it's peak." Dagger grumbled as he picked up a pipe and reached for the knife. A second thief crawled up on top, and Dagger dispatched him with a crack to the head from the pipe.
Jack then picked up a stick of dynamite and cut it in three pieces, then moved to cut some strips of leather from the chair.
As Dagger worked, Shra Brea left the military truck and chased after Jack himself on foot.
After wedging the leather down the pipe with a piece of metal, Jack grabbed a handful of screwdrivers and rammed them down as well. Several more arrows flew his way, each one coming
closer than before, as he took th lighter and lit the fuse.
There was a definite roar as the dynamite exploded, sending the tools on a dizzying journey, as dangerous rockets. With the explosion, a single Thief fell; his garb soiled the different shade of his blood.
Dagger shot and reloaded several more times as he had tools while Mike steered over the unpleasantly spewing cars. Before her in the distance, she could see the traffic jam breaking
up and vehicles speeding on their way. Just as she drove around a large, empty, car carrying semi, she turned to Triple Two.
"Almost there! We‘ve almost made it!"
Jack didn't respond as he continued to load and fire at his prey, then stopped to turn in the direction they were heading with a smile on his face.
"Well done, girl. Good job."
As the tan jeep slowly closed the gap to the exit, Shra Brea reached the large semi Mike had just passed. He shimmied up the steps and opened the door to a surprised and upset truck driver who started to complain at his presence. Shra Brea didn't take any time to find his knife and plant in the man's gut to silence him, then push him out. Taking control of the truck, he took little time to familiarize himself with the controls, then set the vehicle in motion.
Mike brought the jeep to a slow crawl as she drove off the last car back onto the road with several more upset drivers responding without turn. Once more on the ground, Mike selected the proper gear and they spun away from the chasing killers with their antique weapons. A loud explosion marked the end of Dagger's man-made weapon as he watched their details shrink in the distance. His smile was short-lived as Mike drove when a large car-carrying semi abruptly crashed through the wall of cars and then accelerated quickly after their slow moving vehicle, leaving a wall of crushed items of transportation behind.
Mike noticed the quickly advancing threat closing on them as she neared a low hanging overpass. She tried to maneuver from its flight path, but a slow moving semi poked along before them
with a heavy bed of cut logs on its trailer while a green van cut them off on their right, keeping them from changing lanes. On the left was the side of the road with rough debris and weak foliage.
Dagger saw the posing obstacle looming behind them with the groan of a deep and powerful engine, and grabbed the remaining dynamite sticks. Finding in a box a set of blasting caps, he started placing each one over the proper end.
Mike was honking her horn to the occupants of the van now, hoping they'd drive from their path and allw them safe haven from the lunatic behind them. But all the driver did was ignore them, thinking them unruly youngsters as they neared the overpass. In desperation, she grabbed the CB to call to the truck driver ahead of them, hoping to ask him to travel faster. But as she grabbed the device, Jack reached forward and stopped her. She then looked back to see Rickshaw's walkie talkie linked to the blasting caps.
"One call from a CB will set zese off!” he yelled to her, to her own shock.
"Then get rid of it!” she screamed back.
Shra Brea‘s semi then impacted into the small jeep, making it shudder and quake, to the astonishment of the van's occupants.
Jack dropped his makeshift bomb as the semi came at them once more, ramming them and nearly forcing them off of the road.
Grating his teeth, Dagger grabbed the bomb and shoved it into the grate of semi pushing them down the road. Looking up, he could see Shra Brea's menacing eyes peeking out through his robes.
Mike looked up to see the overpass hanging over them several dozens of feet before them as the truck in her mirrors faded back and prepared for the final lunge; a lunge that would push them into the log-carrying semi ahead of them.
The lunge came quickly, and as the occupants of the van watched in dismay, the tan jeep suddenly drove towards their left, off the road.
Shra Brea's eyes followed the jeep as it re-entered the road straight behind his car-carrying semi, and with a series of shrieking mechanics, drove up the empty car ramps to face the towering overpass.
The sword-swinging Indian brought his eyes forward when he focused on the log-carrying truck and hit it with his acceleration's full power, screaming.
With the jeep on top of the truck, it felt the full buckle as the truck lurched up and cracked through the concrete overpass. Mike took advantage of the opening Shra Brea created for them, and drove into the opening with careful and speedily use of the gas and brake. Finally, safe from all other threats at last, they drove in retreat down the overpass.
Shra Brea watched as his victims quickly departed from his grasp, and he paused to silently curse their fortunate case. His CB then came alive with foul-mouthed obscenities from the truck driver he had just rammed.
The entire cabin of the semi was washed through and through by the purifying fire that exploded from Jack's well placed bomb, destroying most of the semi's cockpit; shattering the glass, ripping out the doors, and melting the engine.
The green van stopped to fill out a report of the incident for the police as an unwanted, second traffic jam then started. The driver whistled in awe to his friends at the mess as police officers took report of the scene.
“They never mentioned that on the tour brochure.”
Dodging a red light, Kelly swung her vehicle around a corner, cutting off three cars and temporarily losing her opponents. She tried to make the best of the situation by giving the engine some gas, but their followers caught up to them as quickly as they left.
Rickshaw watched in the rear display mirror as the cars came in behind them. He started to finger a button when Kelly dove the car to the left, taking them on a cobblestone road. Rickshaw effortlessly tumbled in his restraints as the car swerved to Kelly's control.
The occupants of each pursuing car bounced in their seats as the road did tortuous things to the vehicle's shocks. A pounding occurred when the passengers of the armored cars put away their guns and started to ram them from the other side in the oncoming traffic lane. As the coup's occupants struggled with the impacts, the lead Olds positioned itself behind them, ready to strike. Unaware of it's preparing, Rickshaw bit his lip in anger, then moved forward to jab a button.
Just before he did so, the lead Oldsmobile also pressed a button, and his front grate folded out to become a panel of splashing electricity. The driver, the 7ster, then smashed the car from behind, allowing the electrified panel to strike the coup.
Rickshaw jumped back, pulling his finger free from the weapon's panel as it shook and spouted sparks and deadly fumes.
After a moment, it sat still, useless.
"Flip ditchin' witches..." Rickshaw cursed in his own way.
Kelly paused to cast her eyes from the road to the panel.
"Electrical surge. Pretty clever. Well, we can still outrun them. we're safe as long as we have the top up."
A sizzling heat then captured the air around them. The air baked, the chairs fried, and it grew difficult to touch any surface. They looked out the window to view a car on their right charging the car's exterior with the spitting power of a flame thrower, which slowly threatened to cook the occupants.
`Rickshaw fumed as he took notice of their aggressive actions. "Look's like they've thought of everythin'."
Kelly started to panic. "We're going to be burnt to death! What do we do?" Her fingers already started to dance on the steering wheel from the uncontrollable heat.
Rickshaw sneered. "Lower the shield."
Kelly turned to him. "What?"
"I said lower the shield!" he yelled as he took as off his hat and moved into position. "If they want to play dirty, we're gonna have to play by their rules."
"Yeah," Kelly mocked, "but you can't win."
Rickshaw smiled back at her. "I can. I cheat."
The driver took a last scared look as Rickshaw checked his gun's six shooter chamber before she opened the shield top.
The shield opened to a bluster of moving air and heated friction on the bumpy cobblestone road. On the side of the road were booths carrying supplies, decorations, and passerbys. Rickshaw tapped Kelly on the shoulder and point to a small shop selling glass vases.
"See that?" he shouted, "Hit it!"
Nodding, Kelly floored the engine, taking them out of the flame thrower's sight and turned in front of it. She slammed the wheel to the left, and dashed a table full of glass vases. As she drove away, the glass fell away and shattered on the road, leaving all types of glittering shrapnel.
The following car drove directly into it's path. The driver tried to steer free and slam on his brakes, but the sharp, thick pieces tore into the tires, causing them to burst.
The 7ster's lead car and the four others chased on around with the pursuit in full play. with the hero's car straight ahead of him; the 7ster grimaced and charged up his front electric panel once more and prepared to hit them.
Rickshaw saw the panel crackling with live electricity as it moved closer, steadily behind them on the narrow road. Looking about he spotted the shorted out top shield neatly folded down in the back. Jumping into the back seat, he stopped to steady himself before grabbing onto on side and start pulling.
The strain was complicated by the oncoming threat from behind and the perilous driving by Kelly. He finally ripped one end free, and the second popped up easier. Picking up the metal frame and kelvar top, he let the wind pull it from his hands, where it flew up and down into the Sevenster's grate,
slicing and crashing.
Wild bolts of electric currents washed around the car for a brief moment before becoming still. The Sevenster than dropped back away from the race to tangle with the problem, allowing
others to pull forward and take matters into their hands.
Rickshaw smiled when he was suddenly thrown into the seats as Kelly hit her brakes trying to avoid a pedestrian in the road. As a result, the lead car smashed up on top of the coup's back, nearly running over Rickshaw in the back seat, as another Olds pulled into the opposite lane to their right. Kelly then found she was having extreme difficulty handling the coup in speed and steering. Looking to her right, she spotted the windows rolled down and a few gun barrels opened to deliver a barrage of gun fire.
Bullets tore loose from~the automatic clips in Rickshaw's direction, searching for their target to feed on. Rickshaw was in no safe place in the back of the seat, so climbing to his feet, he scurried behind the Olds lodged on their back. The bullets bit to catch him, but he was soon safe behind the
car as they bumped along.
The driver of the Olds kept his eyes on the fight, and only a small amount of time on the road. He looked to the road in time from his passenger's games to swerve onto the sidewalk and out of the way of a large truck bearing down on them. They smashed apart obstacles and avoided ducking and running people before returning to the road to continue with their shooting gallery.
The passenger side of the Olds lodged on top of the coup then opened, and as Rickshaw looked up, a Communist Commando appeared out of the door with an electrical taser in hand. While still trying to hide behind that same stuck Olds from the bullets shot at him, Rickshaw now had to worry about this second man.
Kicking his legs up, he smacked hard with his boot on the door, which impacted the man on the face. He dropped down, letting go of his taser to grab the car for safety. Hendrickson snatched the weapon from the air and placed it in his belt before giving the door a final kick. The door collapsed on the man's hand, and he let his body become a target to the pavement. Rickshaw then kicked the door closed as the bullets from the opposite side of his protection continued to ring out. Tiny shards of metal piercing from off the side of his protection were ripped free as the bullets searched for him.
Rickshaw poked his head out of the side of the car, trying to keep from falling off to view his enemies as the passenger side of the trapped Olds silently opened. With quick, and hasty aim, the man depressed his firearm's trigger. A single shot rang out, and Rickshaw's white jacket was spattered
with his own blood. Shouting in searing and tearing agony, his right hand leaped up to comfort and give support to the wound in his shoulder. He fell back, exposing his head to the gunners beside them, and threw a cursing gaze their way. Swearing with colorful adjectives and strange metaphors, he brought his head away from their seeking aim, he licked the door again as the Communist Commando prepared his next, and fatal shot. The man ducked in and reappeared to take crack shots at him when the constant fire ceased. He kicked the door once more before poking around the side of his protection to see what the Olds on their right side was up to.
At first, all he could see were numerous heads bobbing, like they were organizing something. Then a steel-tipped, explosive missile appeared from out of the window and aimed at their car.
Kelly saw the danger, but was in no position to steer free from their aiming; hoping a car would come down the other side of the road and force them to stop.
Hendrickson kicked at the door again as he looked up ahead of them to spot a four way traffic signal, suspended in the middle of the road by four cables. Rickshaw kicked the door closed once more before pulling out his firearm; feeling dizzy from pain. Taking a careful and deliberate aim, he fired off two shots. With his luck, he crowed as the traffic light, crackling with electrical static, swung down and impacted the missile with a charged surge of power. The missile exploded, sending the enemy vehicle to fly high into the air, marking it's fiery tombstones with a wave of smashing vibrations.
Kelly cheered along with him as one more car pulled up alongside them, gunning as they went. She looked quick, then steered sharply into a service center. Rickshaw looked around the car on the back, giving the driver to freely open the door and spring out upon him. The two men tumbled, each one grasping to kill the other as the trapped car was torn free and tumbled into a gas tank, ripping it free off it's foundation and spitting gas in each direction. The two following car-loads of killers steered after them into the service center with guns blazing.
The entire scenario became a sudden blazing monolith of fire as their stinging hot bullet shells came in contact with the free flowing fuel. One of the following was consumed by the fires' angry hunger and was lost in the flames, while the 7ster's car was shocked by the blast, but drove free with
hot lashes of fire connected to the frame. The metal grew hot as the Sevenster accelerated after it s target.
Rickshaw was losing his fight with the Communist Commando driver. He had Hendrickson pinned down with his jaw scraping the side of the coup while Kelly recklessly drove on the sidewalk
to evade the killers, scattering the throngs of people who had turned their attention towards the huge ball of fire.
With Rickshaw still struggling to gain control, Kelly dove for the streets, where the 7ster's flaming car awaited them. There was but one last car still in pursuit with the Sevenster‘s behind Kelly's
coup. Their guns had diminished, for they didn't want to kill the man struggling with Hendrickson, hoping this man may achieve what they had been hired to do all this time.
But the 7ster, felt that he could lend a bit of a hand to the killer who had pinned down this thief.
Rickshaw, feeling the heat of the 's flaming car behind him, continued to search for a better hand grip on the man who had tackled him. The flames came closer, and Rickshaw could feel his face sweat, then burn. Grating his teeth and spitting in his mind, he let go of the man choking him and tucked his hand into his sleeve. He then reached back and caught his jacket on fire from the flames on the Sevenster‘s car. He then stuck the flaming jacket in the man's face.
The Communist Commando jumped back, feeling his face singed as he screamed in pain. In another moment he stopped screaming as he felt Rickshaw's bullet bury itself in his gut.
He sneered at the man as he toppled off the car onto the
road. "One bullet fer one bullet. Sure trade."
Rickshaw replaced his pistol, then turned to the rear to face a dozen bullet-barrels aimed at him.
"Girl!“ he screamed, "I 'ope your trunk is bullet proof!"
Kelly looked back in the mirror to see his plight. She acknowledged and popped the trunk, giving him something to duck behind as the bullets started flowing after him. Kelly had to duck low as the bullets ripped off the trunk and cracked the windshield, tore up the seats, and rebounded off the hull.
Rickshaw, in no position to shoot back, reached behind the trunk, waiting for his chance to strike. The bullets came so fast, he started to develop a new plan.
Crossing his fingers, he reached in the trunk behind his protection for something to use as bullets flashed all around his arm and grazing past. As if he didn't have a full measure of pain in his shoulder, the killers aimed for his hand as it groped for inspiration. Bullets bounced off the inside of the
trunk, sending little pieces of metal to rain and flash about his hand. Tiny inflictions of pain opened up on his hand, drawing blood and making Hendrickson growl with over-used patience.
Grabbing something, he pulled it back to discover a crowbar. Smiling, he jammed it under the trunk and pried the lid up. Holding it, he threw it at the car directly behind them.
The trunk covered the windshield as he took the time to massage his sore wounds; looking over to plan the Sevenster‘s demise. Rickshaw groaned as the car waved back and forth, hoping to accomplish their mission and regain their vision.
His thoughts of planning faded as the car screeched to a high velocity, hitting the coup and throwing him onto the Olds' hood. With his hands searching for a handhold, he flailed about, trying to stay balanced on the Communist Commando's car. He grabbed with his left hand for something and caught his fingers on the front grate of the car, which has suddenly changed lanes. Rickshaw struggled with pain and effort to regain himself as the car accelerated toward the flaming rear fender of the 7ster's car. Rickshaw regained himself and looked forward as the two cars came together.
Hendrickson let go of the grate, crawled down the bumper, and under the car as the two smashed together, shaking him and threatening him to drop on the hard, cobblestone road with the
steaming engine above him. As his face and frame shook from the tires on the bumpy road, he looked back as the two cars pulled away. Climbing up on the grate, he witnessed a hole in it from the two cars hitting each other, with the fuel line and oil line clearly before him. As the Sevenster‘s car came at them again, Rickshaw reached in the grate and carefully switched the two lines. The cars closed together, attempting to smash him between, when he crawled under once more.
As the two vehicles hit, there was a choking sound in the motor, and instantaneously a gust of black smoke engulfed the engines and flooded it. Rickshaw, dropping his feet onto the juggling road, grabbed onto the 7ster's fender, and as the last Communist Commando's vehicle flew out of the race with a burning cloud of black smoke, Rickshaw climbed up on the fender, careful to avoid the flaming pillars~of fire still rising up from the body of the car. Kelly watched him as they drove along the dual directional, two lane road as the Sevenster tried to bash her off the road.
Rickshaw, his body and frame sore from the trip's abuse, was not about to let Superior's forces win. Not since he had what he wanted. He grew tired of this game, and found it important to end it now.
Steadying himself, he jumped from the Sevenster‘s car into the back of the coup, to the surprise of the 7ster. Rickshaw grabbed his gun and fired off two shots at the window, but then placed his gun back when he viewed the Sevenster laughing at his pitiful attempt and the window free of damage. The 7ster then swung the wheel over as they came close to a large bridge looking over a wide body of water. They drove onto it as the large, sable-clad ruffian smashed into them, nearly driving them off the road. He smashed once more, pushing their car up against the side of the metal bridge. Wild, unbridled sparks flew off from the damage as Kelly looked ahead of them. Rickshaw saw her surprise at the same time of the 7ster's. A large construction sight on the road was place there, and only enough room for one car to pass through. The Sevenster was undoubtedly wanted to be that one driver.
Shouting, Rickshaw jumped forward and tried the door handle, only to find it locked. He then pulled free the taser from his belt and aimed for the lock on the door. within frying seconds, the lock was undone. The Sevenster pulled away, readying his car for one last bash to throw them off the side
of the bridgé. Kelly tried to remain still so that Rickshaw could do his work, but a quick look down off the bridge made her hesitate.
The two cars were traveling side by side, and the Sevenster had a nasty look in his eye. Reaching across the void of road and air, Rickshaw opened the door and dove in...
Only to find that the 7ster was waiting for him. He reached out and grabbed him around his neck, and as Hendrickson gasped for air, the Sevenster reached in the back and pulled out his
bear trap. The 7ster placed his knee up on the wheel to keep the car steady as he snapped his weapon in place. He then brought the bear trap forward and prepared to release it.
Reaching up with his taser, Rickshaw aimed it as the 7ster aimed his own weapon. Rickshaw fired, hitting the bear trap and stunning the huge man.
The car then went out of control as it tore across the road into the side of the huge bridge. Kelly followed by it, hoping this stranger would be in no dire need of assistance.
Rickshaw then let the last shot of the taser shoot into the air conditioner, where it hit the engine. He then leaped free of the doomed vehicle into the coup as the construction sight loomed faster and closer.
As Kelly steered them both to safety through the road construction's gap, the 7ster's car hit the sight. The car hit a mound of asphalt and sailed off over the bridge for several seconds to crash into the waters below.
As the coup pressed on to gain ground form Superior‘s forces the workmen gazed over the bridge into the swirling waters.
"When will those Americans learn. In England you drive on the left side of the road." he muttered.
Before Hendrickson stood Shra Brea; his hands on a lethal looking dagger with a small battalion of Thuggee Thieves behind him, backing him up. Standing in front of Jack was the menacing 7ster; his own marauding group of Communist Commandos strengthening him as he swung his deadly bear trap in his hands. Superior Johnston, clad in his matching tan and white suit came to bear on the two heroes as they sat helplessly back to back, each wearing their own faces of distress: Rickshaw with his glare
and Dagger with his ruse smile. With the items still in his protected hands, he spoke with a satisfied smile.
"The hotel's security would've turned you over to the police for questioning and incarceration, but my methods are more direct and permanent."
With his smile founded in place he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Double pairs of headlights appeared with one at the end of each tunnel; with Rickshaw and Jack placed at the center
of the long, cement corridors. The engines of the large vehicles roared to life as Superior continued.
"Permanent to a fault." He grinned wide as the bound remained their fixed views on him.
"Blister kissin' rough water runnin' shark dart." Rickshaw seethed, "I'll see your head bent on a pole, Johnston."
"Jut alors," Jack mumbled, "harsh words does damage to ze ears."
Superior turned to him. "Your polite methods portray your good taste, Triple Two." He stopped, looking them over. "You don't know each other, do you?"
Rickshaw snarled, "Introductions ain't me cup o' tea."
Superior stood straight. "Really. Then allow me introduce you both to your traveling partners. Archaeologist, meet Jack Dagger, Triple Two. And France's best spy, meet Australia's Rickshaw Hendrickson."
There was a brief introduction as each person mumbled their 'hellos' and tried to shake their bound hands. Superior smiled as he held the items, and watched them.
"And, there are some other people waiting to say good bye, also."
The Sevenster then walked up close and grabbed Jack harshly by the throat and started to crush it as Shra Brea held forth his knife and dipped the edge into Rickshaw's chest; drawing blood and urging him to scream. The 7ster finished by raising his fist and delivering a crushing blow to Jack's jaw, issuing blood from his mouth.
Superior stepped away from Hendrickson as Shra Brea did his deed, leaving the artifact close to his feet. He then displayed the same action by leaving the chip at Dagger's feet while the engines continued to roar. Superior and his men then stepped back to a safe distance.
Superior wore a delighted smile as he gave his nemesis‘ their final address. "It is with much sorrow that it must end this way. I'm sure you would both be overwhelmed when you discover my true intentions I have planned with these items at the Courthouse tomorrow at nine in the morning. And you
will have lost it all before your very eyes!"
His hand was raised and then dropped. And as Rickshaw's voice spewed forth vile, yet harmless obscenities, the two vehicles echoed their tires screeching on the pavement floor with such loud abrasion that his words were smothered by the booming torrent. As the two vehicles raced towards them, their lights blinding their delicate eyes, Jack looked over to the speeding cars. Gazing straight forward, the 7ster still stood before him. Escaping from this trap would be no difficult job, but getting around the large henchman, whose task would undoubtedly be to keep him there, would indeed be another matter. If only their roles were switched!
Hendrickson's ideals were a bit different as the engines grew louder and the lights burned brighter. All he could think about were his failures in the past at following up in the pursuit of the Saushee rattle. People mocked him, teachers rivaled him, and killers hunted him. It was to be in his far
fighting existence to win the prestige, power, and money his battles brought him. And death was not going to come here, for he had come over world, across land, through, around, and above enemies like Shra Brea to get here. That crimson clad creation was not going to stop him.
Superior watched in patient suspense as his mob co-workers followed his heeds to stand ground while the cars gained towards them. In an abrupt screech, the cars tore loose with a mighty explosion of power and pressed forward. The side door of one, and then the other opened up and the drivers dove out to impact with direct pain with the hard, steel gray floor. They looked up through the pain with hopes to see their master's plan accomplished to view the vehicles cruising to kill.
The time was right and now, Rickshaw thought, as the vehicles had created a barrier of tension on everyone's hearts and he reached up into his sleeve to find his discovered object.
Jack squinted his eyes to shade the glare of the run-away car as his fingers fumbled for his belt. In a moment, a sharp 'twange' released a blade hidden there. The blade flipped up, slicing the binds with little difficulty, allowing him to get to his feet.
Rickshaw's knife was in his hands, and as the cars smashed headfirst into each other, he was free from the scene and attacking Shra Brea.
The windshield's smashed into a glittering spectacle of raining debris as metal was bent into ugly and useless shapes of twisted origin. The frame was bent into patternless terrain with consuming fire while the hood's inners rushed up to be exposed into the open. Axles snapped, tires popped free, trunks collapsed, and grates tore. The spectacle of the scene was the exploding crack similar to a thousand metal cymbals cracking in endless moments like the crashing of a wave.
The brief distraction caught everyone so far off guard, only Shra Brea and the 7ster were prepared to face Rickshaw and Dagger's attacks.
Rickshaw rolled free of the doomed chair and snatched the glove with the artifact in his left hand, then held his knife g up to the undaunted, masked figure.
Jack leaped free of his own fiery death with a kick directed towards the Sevenster's chest. His foot was grabbed by a strong hand while in the air and thrown aside. Jack landed roughly from the fall and thought to grab his gun when he viewed the destruction ending and the soldiers of Superior starting to advance upon them as Superior shouted orders.
Rickshaw slashed at Shra Brea, hoping to catch him off guard, but pain found his hand before the blade could find his mark. He released the weapon, letting it clatter to the ground as Shra Brea held up his own swift knife, stained red from Rickshaw's blood. In a separate flash, Rickshaw was viewing his enemy's swords. He then noticed Shra Brea's follower's approaching him.
Dagger noticed he didn't have much options left: face another nasty tangle with the 7ster plus face a quicker and painful execution, or retreat. Without arguing further he snatched the microchip and prepared to run for Kelly and their coup. But the 7ster stood in his way with his lackeys not far behind with guns, leaving him no little choice. He turned and fled for the rear of the hotel.
Hendrickson still was fond of gambling, but didn't like these odds. He made mention to his mind about his goal. He had the artifact, so dancing the Time Waster with Superior's rough-necks didn't help him any. And neither did the fact that Shra Brea's swords were disrupting his flight path.
He cursed his luck once again, then turned and fled, with the artifact in his gloved hand, towards the front, knowing full well his getaway car and Mike were still idling in the back.
Superior watched as his precious items to his ultimate plan disappeared out the doors. His organized mind was in full, creative swing as he shouted orders. His men ran to obey, climbing in their cars and loading their weapons. Red and black clothed individuals heeded to his call as members of his plan followed through with his beckoning.
Old jeeps, motor cycles, and a huge military truck rolled out of the garage carrying Shra Brea and his warriors. The 7ster followed after in sporty Oldsmobiles with gunsmen in the
seats.
They all drove away in the pursuit of their acclaimed criminals as Superior watched, watched and laughed.
Jack clambered out the back exit, knowing with full intent that he had a large group of ruffians on his tail to tangle with, unless he could speedily vacate the premises. Finding himself in the back alley, he searched for a location to make his stand when he spotted a dull-tan jeep idling nearby with a beautiful blonde waiting behind the wheel.
Details escaped his mind as he dashed forward and hopped in the passenger's seat. The woman looked over at him with surprise, then started to speak. Jack cut her off.
"Listen carefully for both our sakes. If you do not drive now, peril may soon run us through."
Mike faltered. "I'm supposed to be waiting for..."
A loud, metal-wrenching crunch instinctively made them look back behind them, just to see Shra Brea's large military truck tumble through the alley behind them, bashing aside trash
bins and waste bags.
Mike shot a glance towards the door for one more moment, hoping to see Rickshaw come bursting through the door as Dagger shouted.
"Haste does not make healthy advantages in this situation!"
The large truck bore down upon them as Mike bit back her tongue's desires, then shifted the jeep into gear and tore out of the alley.
Rickshaw stumbled out into the street; his artifact still tight in his hand. Traffic rang their horns and swerved to miss him as he looked about for a chance to escape. He knew it would only be a short matter of time until Superior's forces would be burying his broken body under their tires into the
pavement. A red coup caught his vision as it sat nearby the hotel as if waiting for something. It was as good as he was to get.
Risking getting hit by the traffic, he lunged forward and jumped in the passenger seat. The driver, a luscious brunette, was caught by surprise.
"Are you out of your mind?" she stammered.
Rickshaw's gun was on her in a second.
"Drive, for both our sakes."
Kelly paused as she looked for Jack. "I'm afraid I must decline..."
Hendrickson leaned over and peered at her. "If you don't drive, you might never be afraid again... you'll be dead. And not by me 'and."
A series of screeching tires and gunned engines informed them of the four black Porshes that tore into rear view mirror's gaze. Kelly and Rickshaw both spun around to catch the view of the sable cars entering the pursuit as Rickshaw yelled.
"Drivel Now!"
Kelly bit her lip as she watched the entrance for hopes of Jack running out to her. Waiting one last second, she spun the wheel and burst into traffic.
Mike swung out into the street, revving the engine and punching the pedal with a question on her mind. The enemies following her she knew to be quite lethal, but she didn't know a thing about the seemingly insane passenger, and that made her just as nervous.
She shot a glance to him as he pulled out his pistol and took a few crack shots at their followers. "Who are you, and what have you done with Rickshaw?"
His response was not one to care for.
"Keep driving! I am no one to find amusing. Tell me quickly, dear. Are zere any weapons in zis vehicle?"
Mike paused, trying to think as she changed lanes and swerved through a left turn as the light changed.
Their followers did as they also did, while swerving to miss a bus.
"We've only got the tools and stuff in the back." she replied.
Jack muttered something ironic and sarcastic before replying. "Zen it seems we are done for."
Mike dribbled her fingers on the steering wheel with a grin. "Not on your life."
She spun the wheel once more with enough friction and gravity, Jack clung on for his life as she threw the vehicle into a wild turn thick of wheels screaming and components hurting.
"Hang on!" she shouted as she came out of the dive and straightened out. She hit a parking entrance, snapping the gate clean off while their attackers resumed the chase. Mike maneuvered through the empty lots as the Thieves ganged closer. Arrows started flying their way as Mike gunned the engine through the obstacles.
Jack looked back as one of Superior's guards jumped back onto the jeep's back seats and started climbing to the front; knife in play. Dagger grabbed the knife and tore it away, then delivered a blow to his face to cast him clear of their safety. Safety that seemed to diminish.
"Hang on!" Mike shouted again, and Jack looked back as she rammed the wall, throwing debris in multiple directions, and then landing with a shock to the shocks.
Rickshaw's pistol rang time and again after each time he reloaded, but his shots proved ineffective. The four black Porshes remained in close pursuit while zigging and zagging to stay close to Kelly's driving.
"Did you bring these clowns, mister?" Kelly replied sharply, "Or are they friends of yours?"
Rickshaw ducked quickly as a barrel and a head popped out of the side of one of the cars, letting loose a wild torrent of bullets that echoed off the car's body. He then looked to her.
"I don't know these mugs, sweet 'eart, and I wouldn't 'ang around 'em. They're not me type."
"Well," she said, throwing the car into a wild spin around the corner, "they are Jack's type. So what have you done with him?"
Hendrickson struck his face near hers. "If I were you, I'd worry about yourself. Besides, I don't know any Jack. Let's just loose these ‘ere losers."
"Yes, sir." Kelly shouted with a smile, "Brace yourself!"
Throwing the wheel, she turned the car up on the sidewalk. The left tire hit a cart and threw them up to drive on two tires. Their opponents gained on them on their left, still on the street, shooting at them repeatedly with their wild guns and aiming. As customers dove for safety, their bullets searched
for a vital spot in the car's armored underside while Kelly's car crashed through tables, chairs, and awnings.
The head car soon came clear of bullets, and stopped to reload as they neared a caf'e. With Kelly's left tires still high in the air, they approached two lovers deep in their romantic embrace. The car's tires passed straight over their heads before the bullets came again.
Kelly came to the end of the block and swerved around the corner, dropping all tires back on the ground. The pursuers turned in close chase as Rickshaw quickly put on his seat belt.
Mike moved through the fast traffic with her foot switching as rapidly from the gas to the brake as her hands spun the wheel. Jack was tiring of finding time to reload his bullets between knocking Thieves off the car.
Dagger bounced in his seat as he discovered two broken barriers flying off the hood and then the rough turbulence of the ground below them. Passing his eyes forward, he found notice of the road construction crew darting for safety as the jeep bounced over the broken road. The squad of following killers halted all but two jeeps, who continued over the rocky terrain. The others fled to another direction.
Their shattered road swerved downward, and the three vehicles dove down a dark tunnel, allowing their headlights to come into play.
Mike then slammed on her brakes, bringing their vehicle to a stop before a large wall. Dagger thought of some action to take as the headlight of the aggressors bore down on them.
Their tires suddenly spun out as Mike threw the wheel to the left, and they tore through a darkened tunnel they had not first seen, ripping apart a large banner marked, "No admittance."
They found themselves in a large, underground sewer tunnel with thugs still behind them with deadly intention. Large puddles were disturbed from the tires‘ crashing, and gushes of liquid spun off from the tires, only to spill over the vehicle. Jack found his eyes popping open from the atmosphere
as he intentionally kept his breath closed. Mike seemed unaffected as she kept her eyes fixed before them.
Sunlight opened up, and the tires climbed out of the well through a large opening to find where the other henchmen of Professor Johnston had gone to wait for them. The two cycles blocked their path before them as Thuggee Thieves readied their weapons.
While Jack braced himself, Mike floored it, smashing apart the two cycles to the ground and shattering their frames. She then, with a grit on her teeth, brought the jeep to a stop and shifted it into gear. As the Thieves ran up to them, shooting their spears off the windshield and babbling in their own
language, Mike pressed the accelerator, and the jeep spun away backwards. She kept her head back to see where she was going as she smashed through a fence and drove into a construction site. It didn't take long for Shra Brea to start up his truck, gather his men, then continue after them into the site.
Dagger was leaning over the windshield, firing at them when his gun went silent. He argued with the fact for a moment, then placed the gun back in it's holster. Looking in the back, he spied a shovel. He jumped to grab it despite Mike's crazy backward driving, and picked it up. The murderers were gaining very close as Mike drove near a fuel truck. Dagger swung at it, knocking the gas cap off. The pale fuel flowed from the tanks out onto the dusty soil as the jeep passed by. The group bent on their destruction passed through and over the growing puddle as Jack came underneath a large electrical wire. One swipe at the wire from the shovel brought it sailing down to touch into the open fluid.
With the two jeeps engulfed and every bit destroyed as the rush of fire exploded deep into the open air, the large truck still emerged through the wave of violent flames. Jack grimaced as he shouted to Mike. "Where's the nearest freeway exit?"
Kelly was having difficulty on the crowded streets, as the caravan of black cars stayed close to her with every step. Rickshaw was still shooting ineffectively at the cars as the driver of the coup pressed a hidden button. A panel slid back near the seat, exposing several knobs, switches, and dials. She pressed a button now, and the bullet proof top of the car rolled up and over, cutting their enemy's target off from their sights.
"There's nowhere to maneuver on this road." she complained.
Rickshaw pointed to an alley off to the side.
"Take a right."
"What? What right..." Kelly argued, but Rickshaw's finger jabbed at the direction. Spinning the wheel and crossing her fingers, they tore off the street into the darkened alley, where the ground was littered with cans, garbage bags, dumpsters, and all types of trash.
The coup tore into the crowded alley, and Kelly immediately started to respond to the terrain. The four Porshes remained Close behind with a professional edge of driving.
"You're going to have to use the weapons systems." Kelly called to Hendrickson, who sat taken aback, then licked his lips with a question.
"Just press the buttons." she redirected her phrase.
Rickshaw nodded and quickly pressed one.
Two missile tube extended out of the back and spat out twin clouds of smoke. The following cars dodged clear of the deadly protrusions, and the missiles soared past all four cars into a huge relay tower, throwing up a cloud of fire and debris.
"Nice shot, you." Kelly glared as she drove, then stopped her sarcasm when the image in her rear view mirrors showed the tower topple over into the alley and demolish the trailing car, sending up plates of steel and fiery obstacles.
Rickshaw was in the spirit of things as he turned a dial and pressed four buttons in sequence. He looked back to see exactly what he'd done, hoping his luck would still be with him.
As the tires spun, antennae from the center of the wheels poked out; the dual bladed hubcaps extending on the end. Motors hidden in the depth of the car suddenly rotated the hubcaps in the opposite direction of the car, then released them to spin towards the three cars behind them.
It appeared to Kelly as she drove, that these organized madmen were prepared for anything. At the first sight of the antennae, they prepared their reflexes. As each menacing blade flashed back towards them, the cars steered out of the way. Kelly was starting to assume the worst, when the lead car lunged to steer clear of the last blade, only to drive head first into a huge dumpster, wiping out its
windshield and ruining metal.
With the last two in closer pursuit, Rickshaw hit another button, then looked back to see nothing happen.
"You just turned the antennae into the switch blades. That's only effective when they're beside you." Kelly complained.
"Well," Rickshaw complained back, "I don't 'ear you givin' any ideas."
The antennae produced small shards of sharp metal that folded outward, then the whole contraption spun in direction, searching for something to bite it's blades into. A large bag of flour proved to be just that thing, and as the bag was shred, clouds of white powder exploded into the air and settled on the hoods and windshields. The drivers spun to remain in control as Rickshaw crowed with delight, then victoriously punched two more buttons.
Two tubes dropped down beneath the fender as two more tubes extended out the sides. Oil, slick and hard to stand on, suddenly coated the road from the back tubes as the side panels
spewed forth fire. The oil caught aflame, bringing the cars to crash into the side buildings.
Kelly and Rickshaw cheered as they drove another block, then came out onto the road, where they pulled into traffic.
Their smiles melted when six black Oldsmobiles turned the corner and entered into the chase.
Jack watched in horror as they were forced to slow down at the sight of a traffic jam. Rows of cars sat bumper to bumper with horns blaring and various calls issuing forth. Mike was the first to complain.
"You said take the freeway! I did just that..."
Jack leaned over and stared at her while her rampant speech silenced.
"I didn't ask for a detailed account on whose fault it was. Zis is merely a case of back luck. Luck we will have to deal wiz."
Mike turned her eyes from his to the rear view mirror to see the remaining military truck pull in and stop in line behind the cars that had just pulled in behind them. The Thuggee Thieves were now climbing out of the back of the truck and pulling their swords free from their sheaves; coming between
the aisles of cars for them.
"And fast." she stated.
Dagger spun around to see the similar fate. He reached in his jacket and retrieved his pistol, only to rediscover it was out of bullets.
"Zis may take some serious doings." he mumbled as he jumped in the back seat. He didn't have to search long to discover what he had thought, and hoped. The true owner of the jeep was an outdoorsman, and something of a mechanic. Tools, pipes, dynamite, coolers, and knives
were littered in the back. As he searched harder through the rubble, he discovered more pieces to fit into his equation. An equation that might save their lives.
"What are you doing?" Mike asked, keeping her eyes stuck on the red clad individuals making their way down the rows of cars.
Jack answered as he grabbed the cooler and a knife. "I'm stretching our resources." He slit the knife in the back of the chair as Mike screamed.
"Why did you do that?"
Jack faced her momentarily, as he pulled the foam padding out and stuffed it in the cooler. "Would you prefer your own hide shred to ribbons, or the hide of zis chair?" Without any
further comment, Jack continued working as Mike sat forward and eyed the traffic jam with distaste.
"Rickshaw's gonna kill me."
The Thieves were gaining closer as Triple Two poured a gallon of gasoline into the cooler from a tub he found next to the spare, then reached for the lighter. He activated it and placed it in the container. The large cooler of custom-made napalm fired up in a flash of brilliance as Jack reach down and poured it into the road, right before the amazed Thieves.
Mike watched impressed as Jack turned to her. “Zat will only hold zem hack for so long. We must escape. I believe I can design anozer weapon if you can provide me wiz some time."
Mike revved the engine and smiled. "Hey, this is an all terrain vehicle. Just hang on."
With her eyes on the road, she moved the car into gear as the Thuggees fought to get through the flames. Several jumped through with their robes burning, yet they attempted to climb up into the jeep. Mike hit the accelerator, and the tan vehicle lunged forward, only for her to slam on the brakes.
The jeep rolled forward, and on the bounce, Mike gunned the engine.
The front tires popped up into the air, throwing off the flying attackers and nearly dumping Dagger on top of them, and came down on the top of the vehicle stuck in the jam ahead of them. Mike shifted gears as the fire dwindled and the Thuggees rushed through. The jeep suddenly climbed up on top of the jam and bounced along cars, tops, hoods, and windshields at a slow pace.
Jack held on tight as the slow moving jeep gained advanced territory over their attackers. He smiled as the shouts of passengers and drivers mixed with honking and beeping horns roughly scolded them.
Jack turned to Mike as they carefully rolled along. "It appears your stunt has saved our lives."
A sharp hiss of air planted an arrow inches away form Dagger's face into the back of a chair. with a cry, a red dressed assailant dove into the back of the jeep. After a brief struggled, Jack planted his foot in the man‘s chest and kicked him off onto another car.
"Got any more bright ideas?" Mike asked about them and more Thieves closed in.
"My creativity is at it's peak." Dagger grumbled as he picked up a pipe and reached for the knife. A second thief crawled up on top, and Dagger dispatched him with a crack to the head from the pipe.
Jack then picked up a stick of dynamite and cut it in three pieces, then moved to cut some strips of leather from the chair.
As Dagger worked, Shra Brea left the military truck and chased after Jack himself on foot.
After wedging the leather down the pipe with a piece of metal, Jack grabbed a handful of screwdrivers and rammed them down as well. Several more arrows flew his way, each one coming
closer than before, as he took th lighter and lit the fuse.
There was a definite roar as the dynamite exploded, sending the tools on a dizzying journey, as dangerous rockets. With the explosion, a single Thief fell; his garb soiled the different shade of his blood.
Dagger shot and reloaded several more times as he had tools while Mike steered over the unpleasantly spewing cars. Before her in the distance, she could see the traffic jam breaking
up and vehicles speeding on their way. Just as she drove around a large, empty, car carrying semi, she turned to Triple Two.
"Almost there! We‘ve almost made it!"
Jack didn't respond as he continued to load and fire at his prey, then stopped to turn in the direction they were heading with a smile on his face.
"Well done, girl. Good job."
As the tan jeep slowly closed the gap to the exit, Shra Brea reached the large semi Mike had just passed. He shimmied up the steps and opened the door to a surprised and upset truck driver who started to complain at his presence. Shra Brea didn't take any time to find his knife and plant in the man's gut to silence him, then push him out. Taking control of the truck, he took little time to familiarize himself with the controls, then set the vehicle in motion.
Mike brought the jeep to a slow crawl as she drove off the last car back onto the road with several more upset drivers responding without turn. Once more on the ground, Mike selected the proper gear and they spun away from the chasing killers with their antique weapons. A loud explosion marked the end of Dagger's man-made weapon as he watched their details shrink in the distance. His smile was short-lived as Mike drove when a large car-carrying semi abruptly crashed through the wall of cars and then accelerated quickly after their slow moving vehicle, leaving a wall of crushed items of transportation behind.
Mike noticed the quickly advancing threat closing on them as she neared a low hanging overpass. She tried to maneuver from its flight path, but a slow moving semi poked along before them
with a heavy bed of cut logs on its trailer while a green van cut them off on their right, keeping them from changing lanes. On the left was the side of the road with rough debris and weak foliage.
Dagger saw the posing obstacle looming behind them with the groan of a deep and powerful engine, and grabbed the remaining dynamite sticks. Finding in a box a set of blasting caps, he started placing each one over the proper end.
Mike was honking her horn to the occupants of the van now, hoping they'd drive from their path and allw them safe haven from the lunatic behind them. But all the driver did was ignore them, thinking them unruly youngsters as they neared the overpass. In desperation, she grabbed the CB to call to the truck driver ahead of them, hoping to ask him to travel faster. But as she grabbed the device, Jack reached forward and stopped her. She then looked back to see Rickshaw's walkie talkie linked to the blasting caps.
"One call from a CB will set zese off!” he yelled to her, to her own shock.
"Then get rid of it!” she screamed back.
Shra Brea‘s semi then impacted into the small jeep, making it shudder and quake, to the astonishment of the van's occupants.
Jack dropped his makeshift bomb as the semi came at them once more, ramming them and nearly forcing them off of the road.
Grating his teeth, Dagger grabbed the bomb and shoved it into the grate of semi pushing them down the road. Looking up, he could see Shra Brea's menacing eyes peeking out through his robes.
Mike looked up to see the overpass hanging over them several dozens of feet before them as the truck in her mirrors faded back and prepared for the final lunge; a lunge that would push them into the log-carrying semi ahead of them.
The lunge came quickly, and as the occupants of the van watched in dismay, the tan jeep suddenly drove towards their left, off the road.
Shra Brea's eyes followed the jeep as it re-entered the road straight behind his car-carrying semi, and with a series of shrieking mechanics, drove up the empty car ramps to face the towering overpass.
The sword-swinging Indian brought his eyes forward when he focused on the log-carrying truck and hit it with his acceleration's full power, screaming.
With the jeep on top of the truck, it felt the full buckle as the truck lurched up and cracked through the concrete overpass. Mike took advantage of the opening Shra Brea created for them, and drove into the opening with careful and speedily use of the gas and brake. Finally, safe from all other threats at last, they drove in retreat down the overpass.
Shra Brea watched as his victims quickly departed from his grasp, and he paused to silently curse their fortunate case. His CB then came alive with foul-mouthed obscenities from the truck driver he had just rammed.
The entire cabin of the semi was washed through and through by the purifying fire that exploded from Jack's well placed bomb, destroying most of the semi's cockpit; shattering the glass, ripping out the doors, and melting the engine.
The green van stopped to fill out a report of the incident for the police as an unwanted, second traffic jam then started. The driver whistled in awe to his friends at the mess as police officers took report of the scene.
“They never mentioned that on the tour brochure.”
Dodging a red light, Kelly swung her vehicle around a corner, cutting off three cars and temporarily losing her opponents. She tried to make the best of the situation by giving the engine some gas, but their followers caught up to them as quickly as they left.
Rickshaw watched in the rear display mirror as the cars came in behind them. He started to finger a button when Kelly dove the car to the left, taking them on a cobblestone road. Rickshaw effortlessly tumbled in his restraints as the car swerved to Kelly's control.
The occupants of each pursuing car bounced in their seats as the road did tortuous things to the vehicle's shocks. A pounding occurred when the passengers of the armored cars put away their guns and started to ram them from the other side in the oncoming traffic lane. As the coup's occupants struggled with the impacts, the lead Olds positioned itself behind them, ready to strike. Unaware of it's preparing, Rickshaw bit his lip in anger, then moved forward to jab a button.
Just before he did so, the lead Oldsmobile also pressed a button, and his front grate folded out to become a panel of splashing electricity. The driver, the 7ster, then smashed the car from behind, allowing the electrified panel to strike the coup.
Rickshaw jumped back, pulling his finger free from the weapon's panel as it shook and spouted sparks and deadly fumes.
After a moment, it sat still, useless.
"Flip ditchin' witches..." Rickshaw cursed in his own way.
Kelly paused to cast her eyes from the road to the panel.
"Electrical surge. Pretty clever. Well, we can still outrun them. we're safe as long as we have the top up."
A sizzling heat then captured the air around them. The air baked, the chairs fried, and it grew difficult to touch any surface. They looked out the window to view a car on their right charging the car's exterior with the spitting power of a flame thrower, which slowly threatened to cook the occupants.
`Rickshaw fumed as he took notice of their aggressive actions. "Look's like they've thought of everythin'."
Kelly started to panic. "We're going to be burnt to death! What do we do?" Her fingers already started to dance on the steering wheel from the uncontrollable heat.
Rickshaw sneered. "Lower the shield."
Kelly turned to him. "What?"
"I said lower the shield!" he yelled as he took as off his hat and moved into position. "If they want to play dirty, we're gonna have to play by their rules."
"Yeah," Kelly mocked, "but you can't win."
Rickshaw smiled back at her. "I can. I cheat."
The driver took a last scared look as Rickshaw checked his gun's six shooter chamber before she opened the shield top.
The shield opened to a bluster of moving air and heated friction on the bumpy cobblestone road. On the side of the road were booths carrying supplies, decorations, and passerbys. Rickshaw tapped Kelly on the shoulder and point to a small shop selling glass vases.
"See that?" he shouted, "Hit it!"
Nodding, Kelly floored the engine, taking them out of the flame thrower's sight and turned in front of it. She slammed the wheel to the left, and dashed a table full of glass vases. As she drove away, the glass fell away and shattered on the road, leaving all types of glittering shrapnel.
The following car drove directly into it's path. The driver tried to steer free and slam on his brakes, but the sharp, thick pieces tore into the tires, causing them to burst.
The 7ster's lead car and the four others chased on around with the pursuit in full play. with the hero's car straight ahead of him; the 7ster grimaced and charged up his front electric panel once more and prepared to hit them.
Rickshaw saw the panel crackling with live electricity as it moved closer, steadily behind them on the narrow road. Looking about he spotted the shorted out top shield neatly folded down in the back. Jumping into the back seat, he stopped to steady himself before grabbing onto on side and start pulling.
The strain was complicated by the oncoming threat from behind and the perilous driving by Kelly. He finally ripped one end free, and the second popped up easier. Picking up the metal frame and kelvar top, he let the wind pull it from his hands, where it flew up and down into the Sevenster's grate,
slicing and crashing.
Wild bolts of electric currents washed around the car for a brief moment before becoming still. The Sevenster than dropped back away from the race to tangle with the problem, allowing
others to pull forward and take matters into their hands.
Rickshaw smiled when he was suddenly thrown into the seats as Kelly hit her brakes trying to avoid a pedestrian in the road. As a result, the lead car smashed up on top of the coup's back, nearly running over Rickshaw in the back seat, as another Olds pulled into the opposite lane to their right. Kelly then found she was having extreme difficulty handling the coup in speed and steering. Looking to her right, she spotted the windows rolled down and a few gun barrels opened to deliver a barrage of gun fire.
Bullets tore loose from~the automatic clips in Rickshaw's direction, searching for their target to feed on. Rickshaw was in no safe place in the back of the seat, so climbing to his feet, he scurried behind the Olds lodged on their back. The bullets bit to catch him, but he was soon safe behind the
car as they bumped along.
The driver of the Olds kept his eyes on the fight, and only a small amount of time on the road. He looked to the road in time from his passenger's games to swerve onto the sidewalk and out of the way of a large truck bearing down on them. They smashed apart obstacles and avoided ducking and running people before returning to the road to continue with their shooting gallery.
The passenger side of the Olds lodged on top of the coup then opened, and as Rickshaw looked up, a Communist Commando appeared out of the door with an electrical taser in hand. While still trying to hide behind that same stuck Olds from the bullets shot at him, Rickshaw now had to worry about this second man.
Kicking his legs up, he smacked hard with his boot on the door, which impacted the man on the face. He dropped down, letting go of his taser to grab the car for safety. Hendrickson snatched the weapon from the air and placed it in his belt before giving the door a final kick. The door collapsed on the man's hand, and he let his body become a target to the pavement. Rickshaw then kicked the door closed as the bullets from the opposite side of his protection continued to ring out. Tiny shards of metal piercing from off the side of his protection were ripped free as the bullets searched for him.
Rickshaw poked his head out of the side of the car, trying to keep from falling off to view his enemies as the passenger side of the trapped Olds silently opened. With quick, and hasty aim, the man depressed his firearm's trigger. A single shot rang out, and Rickshaw's white jacket was spattered
with his own blood. Shouting in searing and tearing agony, his right hand leaped up to comfort and give support to the wound in his shoulder. He fell back, exposing his head to the gunners beside them, and threw a cursing gaze their way. Swearing with colorful adjectives and strange metaphors, he brought his head away from their seeking aim, he licked the door again as the Communist Commando prepared his next, and fatal shot. The man ducked in and reappeared to take crack shots at him when the constant fire ceased. He kicked the door once more before poking around the side of his protection to see what the Olds on their right side was up to.
At first, all he could see were numerous heads bobbing, like they were organizing something. Then a steel-tipped, explosive missile appeared from out of the window and aimed at their car.
Kelly saw the danger, but was in no position to steer free from their aiming; hoping a car would come down the other side of the road and force them to stop.
Hendrickson kicked at the door again as he looked up ahead of them to spot a four way traffic signal, suspended in the middle of the road by four cables. Rickshaw kicked the door closed once more before pulling out his firearm; feeling dizzy from pain. Taking a careful and deliberate aim, he fired off two shots. With his luck, he crowed as the traffic light, crackling with electrical static, swung down and impacted the missile with a charged surge of power. The missile exploded, sending the enemy vehicle to fly high into the air, marking it's fiery tombstones with a wave of smashing vibrations.
Kelly cheered along with him as one more car pulled up alongside them, gunning as they went. She looked quick, then steered sharply into a service center. Rickshaw looked around the car on the back, giving the driver to freely open the door and spring out upon him. The two men tumbled, each one grasping to kill the other as the trapped car was torn free and tumbled into a gas tank, ripping it free off it's foundation and spitting gas in each direction. The two following car-loads of killers steered after them into the service center with guns blazing.
The entire scenario became a sudden blazing monolith of fire as their stinging hot bullet shells came in contact with the free flowing fuel. One of the following was consumed by the fires' angry hunger and was lost in the flames, while the 7ster's car was shocked by the blast, but drove free with
hot lashes of fire connected to the frame. The metal grew hot as the Sevenster accelerated after it s target.
Rickshaw was losing his fight with the Communist Commando driver. He had Hendrickson pinned down with his jaw scraping the side of the coup while Kelly recklessly drove on the sidewalk
to evade the killers, scattering the throngs of people who had turned their attention towards the huge ball of fire.
With Rickshaw still struggling to gain control, Kelly dove for the streets, where the 7ster's flaming car awaited them. There was but one last car still in pursuit with the Sevenster‘s behind Kelly's
coup. Their guns had diminished, for they didn't want to kill the man struggling with Hendrickson, hoping this man may achieve what they had been hired to do all this time.
But the 7ster, felt that he could lend a bit of a hand to the killer who had pinned down this thief.
Rickshaw, feeling the heat of the 's flaming car behind him, continued to search for a better hand grip on the man who had tackled him. The flames came closer, and Rickshaw could feel his face sweat, then burn. Grating his teeth and spitting in his mind, he let go of the man choking him and tucked his hand into his sleeve. He then reached back and caught his jacket on fire from the flames on the Sevenster‘s car. He then stuck the flaming jacket in the man's face.
The Communist Commando jumped back, feeling his face singed as he screamed in pain. In another moment he stopped screaming as he felt Rickshaw's bullet bury itself in his gut.
He sneered at the man as he toppled off the car onto the
road. "One bullet fer one bullet. Sure trade."
Rickshaw replaced his pistol, then turned to the rear to face a dozen bullet-barrels aimed at him.
"Girl!“ he screamed, "I 'ope your trunk is bullet proof!"
Kelly looked back in the mirror to see his plight. She acknowledged and popped the trunk, giving him something to duck behind as the bullets started flowing after him. Kelly had to duck low as the bullets ripped off the trunk and cracked the windshield, tore up the seats, and rebounded off the hull.
Rickshaw, in no position to shoot back, reached behind the trunk, waiting for his chance to strike. The bullets came so fast, he started to develop a new plan.
Crossing his fingers, he reached in the trunk behind his protection for something to use as bullets flashed all around his arm and grazing past. As if he didn't have a full measure of pain in his shoulder, the killers aimed for his hand as it groped for inspiration. Bullets bounced off the inside of the
trunk, sending little pieces of metal to rain and flash about his hand. Tiny inflictions of pain opened up on his hand, drawing blood and making Hendrickson growl with over-used patience.
Grabbing something, he pulled it back to discover a crowbar. Smiling, he jammed it under the trunk and pried the lid up. Holding it, he threw it at the car directly behind them.
The trunk covered the windshield as he took the time to massage his sore wounds; looking over to plan the Sevenster‘s demise. Rickshaw groaned as the car waved back and forth, hoping to accomplish their mission and regain their vision.
His thoughts of planning faded as the car screeched to a high velocity, hitting the coup and throwing him onto the Olds' hood. With his hands searching for a handhold, he flailed about, trying to stay balanced on the Communist Commando's car. He grabbed with his left hand for something and caught his fingers on the front grate of the car, which has suddenly changed lanes. Rickshaw struggled with pain and effort to regain himself as the car accelerated toward the flaming rear fender of the 7ster's car. Rickshaw regained himself and looked forward as the two cars came together.
Hendrickson let go of the grate, crawled down the bumper, and under the car as the two smashed together, shaking him and threatening him to drop on the hard, cobblestone road with the
steaming engine above him. As his face and frame shook from the tires on the bumpy road, he looked back as the two cars pulled away. Climbing up on the grate, he witnessed a hole in it from the two cars hitting each other, with the fuel line and oil line clearly before him. As the Sevenster‘s car came at them again, Rickshaw reached in the grate and carefully switched the two lines. The cars closed together, attempting to smash him between, when he crawled under once more.
As the two vehicles hit, there was a choking sound in the motor, and instantaneously a gust of black smoke engulfed the engines and flooded it. Rickshaw, dropping his feet onto the juggling road, grabbed onto the 7ster's fender, and as the last Communist Commando's vehicle flew out of the race with a burning cloud of black smoke, Rickshaw climbed up on the fender, careful to avoid the flaming pillars~of fire still rising up from the body of the car. Kelly watched him as they drove along the dual directional, two lane road as the Sevenster tried to bash her off the road.
Rickshaw, his body and frame sore from the trip's abuse, was not about to let Superior's forces win. Not since he had what he wanted. He grew tired of this game, and found it important to end it now.
Steadying himself, he jumped from the Sevenster‘s car into the back of the coup, to the surprise of the 7ster. Rickshaw grabbed his gun and fired off two shots at the window, but then placed his gun back when he viewed the Sevenster laughing at his pitiful attempt and the window free of damage. The 7ster then swung the wheel over as they came close to a large bridge looking over a wide body of water. They drove onto it as the large, sable-clad ruffian smashed into them, nearly driving them off the road. He smashed once more, pushing their car up against the side of the metal bridge. Wild, unbridled sparks flew off from the damage as Kelly looked ahead of them. Rickshaw saw her surprise at the same time of the 7ster's. A large construction sight on the road was place there, and only enough room for one car to pass through. The Sevenster was undoubtedly wanted to be that one driver.
Shouting, Rickshaw jumped forward and tried the door handle, only to find it locked. He then pulled free the taser from his belt and aimed for the lock on the door. within frying seconds, the lock was undone. The Sevenster pulled away, readying his car for one last bash to throw them off the side
of the bridgé. Kelly tried to remain still so that Rickshaw could do his work, but a quick look down off the bridge made her hesitate.
The two cars were traveling side by side, and the Sevenster had a nasty look in his eye. Reaching across the void of road and air, Rickshaw opened the door and dove in...
Only to find that the 7ster was waiting for him. He reached out and grabbed him around his neck, and as Hendrickson gasped for air, the Sevenster reached in the back and pulled out his
bear trap. The 7ster placed his knee up on the wheel to keep the car steady as he snapped his weapon in place. He then brought the bear trap forward and prepared to release it.
Reaching up with his taser, Rickshaw aimed it as the 7ster aimed his own weapon. Rickshaw fired, hitting the bear trap and stunning the huge man.
The car then went out of control as it tore across the road into the side of the huge bridge. Kelly followed by it, hoping this stranger would be in no dire need of assistance.
Rickshaw then let the last shot of the taser shoot into the air conditioner, where it hit the engine. He then leaped free of the doomed vehicle into the coup as the construction sight loomed faster and closer.
As Kelly steered them both to safety through the road construction's gap, the 7ster's car hit the sight. The car hit a mound of asphalt and sailed off over the bridge for several seconds to crash into the waters below.
As the coup pressed on to gain ground form Superior‘s forces the workmen gazed over the bridge into the swirling waters.
"When will those Americans learn. In England you drive on the left side of the road." he muttered.