Patrick Meservier
Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Katrina couldn’t wear the headset for the car’s weapon while it was shrouded by the luggage rack. In a way her head felt naked. She made sure to keep the arm powered up just in case, but for now they were tourists driving through sin city with a luggage rack on their roof. Their car was comprised of the same fuselage as all the other cars in the race, but the push rack in the front and rear of the vehicle along with the luggage rack made it look like some kind of abomination from a redneck convention.
Katrina hated that they no longer looked like the sleek racecar they had started the race with. She wondered if the guy from Caltech was still in the race. If his car had been taken out she might never see him again.
Richard snapped his finger in front of her face. “Hello? Are you listening to me?”
“What?” Katrina snapped back.
“I said, I think we’re being followed,” Richard said. “Look in your mirror. See that silver SUV behind us. I’m going to change lanes. Watch what he does.”
Richard changed lanes before the next red light. The SUV changed lanes to follow but ensured that at least four cars were between them. Everyone came to a stop.
“I think he is following us.” She consulted her map. “We still have a lot of city ahead of us; we can try to lose them. But we look like tourists. Maybe we should just drive normally for a bit and see what he does.”
“I hate to tell you, but we still look like a racecar. The luggage rack hides the weapon but anyone who has been watching the race will recognize the push racks.” Richard added, “Maybe we should have taken at least one of them off.”
“That would have taken too long, and who knows, we might still need it.” Katrina said.
“Which way should I go?” Richard asked as they waited for the light to change.
“Play it cool. If something bad happens, follow your gut. It’s done pretty well so far.”
Richard looked at her with surprise that quickly changed to a smile as he realized that she actually trusted him. He liked the feeling it inspired in him and knew that he didn’t want to let her down.
A car horn brought him quickly back to reality as the light had changed and neither Katrina nor Richard had noticed. Richard depressed the accelerator and said “Thank you” at the same time. He pretended to remove something from his pocket and lay it on the dashboard.
“What’s that supposed to be?” Katrina asked.
“I’m a card carrying stunt driver and I’m pulling it out.” Richard said.
Katrina smiled even larger this time and put her hand on his arm. “Let’s go win a race.”
~~~
The driver of the silver Trailblazer pulled the SUV out of their lane and stomped on the gas. It passed all of the other cars behind the racecar. The windows began to roll down and young men with rifles at the ready began to point them at the racecar.
Richard continued to move slower than the rest of the traffic, allowing the SUV to catch up quickly. The fact that it was so easy to catch up didn’t seem to warn them that it might be a trap.
As the silver Trailblazer pulled level with the racecar Richard smiled at them. The men in the SUV looked at each other in confusion. Richard shouted through the wind passing between the cars. “It’s about time you caught up.” He pointed up and the eyes were all immediately drawn up to the sounds above him. Katrina had activated the weapon’s robotic arm. It blew off the top of the luggage rack and the air passing over the sleek racecar filled the cover and took it away as if it were a sail.
The arm of the weapon rose up and turned towards the SUV. Shouting filled the SUV. “Shoot the rocket launcher! Shoot the rocket launcher!” The men had no idea what kind of weapon the racecar had. The robotic arm pointed the beam down onto the arms of the closest man who was holding a weapon.
Both weapons fired but the bullets missed and the laser didn’t. It ran across the arms of all of the guys who were holding weapons. Screams of pain echoed through the car.
Richard stomped on the accelerator and shot the car forward. He pulled the emergency brake and swung them around in front of the SUV.
Katrina maneuvered the arm so it pointed forward during this process, and the beam focused its power on their assailants the entire time. Richard’s stunt maneuver allowed the laser to touch every person inside the SUV, even those behind the windshield.
When the Richard pushed the racecar around to the driver’s side of the SUV, he could see the complete shock on the driver’s face just before the laser ran across it. The driver instinctively turned his head away from the laser, taking the wheel with him. The SUV crossed the lanes of traffic, taking out several cars, before crashing through the storefront of a small hardware store.
As that vehicle fell away, two others moved up fast. One was a teal Ford Tempo with oversized rims, and the other, a red Ford cargo van that had flames painted on the sides.
Richard had turned the car to face forward again and was driving only slightly above the speed limit. The two vehicles bore down on them. These men didn’t wait to get closer before they began to fire. Bullets flew at them from their safer, more distant positions.
Richard sized up his situation. “I don’t have a lot of road ahead of me…”
The rear window exploded and glass flew everywhere inside their car.
Katrina screamed then asked, exasperated, “Why does everyone want to kill us?”
Richard started a weaving maneuver. “I don’t know, but you need to do something with that weapon!”
The weapon had been facing forward after their last attack. Richard heard the robotics grinding above him and calculated that they would be at the next stop light before she had time to do anything productive. He made a last minute decision and stomped on the breaks.
The two vehicles behind them quickly separated as an automatic reaction, allowing a path for the racecar down the middle. The van could have done serious damage to the racecar if the driver had just rammed them.
Richard took that moment to break away. He poured on the torque and spun his tires until it turned the vehicle facing the wrong direction. The MIT car took off like a bullet. It dodged oncoming traffic until police cars, more than he could count, came at him. They all turned hard and slammed on their breaks blocking traffic around them. Officers hopped out of their cars pulling out their weapons shouting for them to stop. Hot on Richard’s tail the Tempo and red Ford van bore down on them firing their guns. The officers turned their weapons to the coming threat and fired.
A barrage of bullets flew back and forth.
Richard turned hard on the wheel and jumped the curb. He steered the racecar down the sidewalk. The people on the sidewalk scrambled to get out of their way. Finally an intersection came and Katrina grabbed the wheel to force Richard to turn right, where they disappeared around the corner.
~~~
Inside the interrogation room, Agent Brockton sat with the gang members who had been arrested where the racecar had been disabled. Three officers stood by the wall watching, none of the gang members were in handcuffs and the officers were a precautionary measure.
The three black gang members seemed unconcerned with their predicament and sat reclined in various degrees. Their desire to look cool seemed to override any sense of self-preservation.
Two of the men were heavy set with bling glittering around their necks. The third wore rings on four fingers on each hand, all in gold. The thin one nodded his head to the other two and spoke as though he were giving orders, a cue Brocton didn’t miss.
“Yo! I want a lawyer.”
Brocton didn’t answer. He just watched the men, and now more predominantly, the thinner man who was working so hard to appear like he didn’t care.
Very little time had passed after the request for a lawyer before Agents Colliste and Cosgrove walked in. In an instant the room felt much too small.
Cosgrove looked like he was in a bad mood. Brocton was sure it was for show. Colliste smiled.
The thin gang member stared at Brocton and no one else. As Cosgrove flipped open a folder, he reiterated his earlier statement. “Man… I told you before. I want a lawyer.”
Cosgrove looked up. “Or what? How has that worked for you so far? Are you imagining better treatment if there’s a lawyer in the room? Stop being an idiot and listen. I’m not here to question you about the guns you have, or the stolen car you were caught in, which was also used as a murder weapon.”
The fat man at the end of the table laughed. “Murder?” he asked in mock disbelief. “That wasn’t murder that was an accident.”
Brocton slammed his fist down on the table in front of the gang member who had spoken and said, “Shut up!”
Cosgrove stood and threw his folder at the belligerent fat man. Papers flew around the room. “Shut up both of you. We don’t have much time. I don’t care what you did. We’re not even going to charge you with anything. I just want to know why you are chasing those racecars.”
The man on the end spoke up questioningly, “You’re not going to charge us?”
“No. Just tell me about the racecars and we can all get out of here.” Cosgrove shouted back.
The three men looked at each other. The thinnest of the three nodded and the man on the end spoke up. “There is a bounty on the car with two push guards and a special weapon on the roof. We wanted our million.”
“Thank you,” Colliste said as he bent over and collected the scattered papers on floor. Brocton immediately stood and left the room without saying a word followed by Colliste. Cosgrove on the other hand stared at the thin black man. “A million dollars?” he asked.
“Yeah, man. Now can we get out of here?” The thin man stood as he answered.
The local officer who had been standing against the wall said, “No, you can’t. The FBI has nothing to do with our case and I have a whole list of charges that will keep you three busy for a very long time.”
Cosgrove shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room. He met up with his agents in a small office.
Weaver was the first to speak up after hearing the reason for the gang involvement. “If there is a million dollar bounty on this car then we have a huge problem on our hands.”
Colliste smiled and said, “No more than usual.”
Brocton nodded his agreement but their leader shook his head. He let Weaver explain why by raising a hand to her indicating that she now had the floor.
“Because we are in a state where gambling is rampant, there are a lot of people who would be willing to do worse for less money. Plus this city has a strong gang network, plus all the mob activity that goes on here. So, we have greedy gang members with guns, we have mobsters with guns, and we have desperate people who have guns. What do you think that equates to?”
Cosgrove finished her statement. “A lot of fucking guns. That’s what it amounts to.”
The door burst open and a uniformed officer popped in, out of breath. “There’s another shootout occurring on the streets right now and the uniformed officers have reported seeing a racecar with some kind of robotic weapon on its roof.”
The four agents looked at each other then ran out of the room.
~~~
The MIT car screamed down the street perpendicular to the one that they had just turned off. Gunfire could still be heard in the distance. Katrina was studying her map.
“Take your next left,” she shouted.
Without question or complaint he took the turn, skidding sideways on their new tires and leaving smoke in their wake. It became immediately clear that this route was a mistake. Two police cars that had been heading towards the shootout noticed them escaping the scene. When the blue lights came on it became evident that the police now knew what their car looked like. Richard increased his speed and blew past them. The police cars both made a sudden stop in the middle of the street using their inertia to spin them partially around. Floored accelerators completed their arc and soon they were in pursuit.
Street traffic tried desperately to get out of their way. Cars and SUVs jumped sidewalks to avoid them. Some crashed into each other, one ran over a fire hydrant, creating a water geyser. A small Yaris jumped the curb stopping just before a large business’ front window. The bumper touched the glass and a crack worked its way through the pane. A second later the window exploded, raining broken glass onto the car and sidewalk.
Richard wanted to fly out of this place and their racecar could do it. Its torque could leave everyone behind in a tenth of a second; however, the stretches of road were either too full of traffic or not long enough to put any space between them and their pursuers. Richard cut the wheel hard to the left to avoid a large, slower moving delivery truck. He quickly cut back in front of the truck and pulled over towards the parked cars on the right, and put his blinker to pull over and touched his brakes. The truck driver, indignant at Richard’s stupidity, yanked his wheel to the left and pounded his horn.
The chasing police cars had already begun to pass the delivery truck when it jerked to the left. The first police car in line was jammed between the box truck and a parked car. The second police car slowed enough to fall behind the delivery driver and watched for the lane to reopen.
Richard’s plan was working perfectly. He heard the crunching noise of the police car and hoped that he could follow the box truck long enough for it to run the second police car off the road.
As the truck drove by Richard waited to position himself behind it. Katrina hit Richard like it was his fault that the second police car had survived the set up but he paid no attention to her. Inspiration had hit and he said, “Shoot the truck tires on our side. Quick!”
Katrina didn’t question him. She quickly maneuvered the weapon head to point down and to the left. The beam couldn’t be seen well in daylight but it was easy to track its destructive path as it swept across the pavement and caused smoke to rise in a straight line. As the tires crossed the laser’s path profuse black smoke billowed away from the rubber. In seconds all four tires on that side of the truck had caught on fire as all of the air that they had contained quickly escaped. The delivery truck’s blown tires dragged the box side towards the MIT car’s lane. Richard shot the car into the rapidly closing space. They pulled ahead of the truck as it slowed at an angle that blocked both lanes.
~~~
FBI liaison Josephine McGregor walked into a large conference room where other agents worked on laptops. The room had been commandeered to be the new command post for Cosgrove and his agents from the Detroit office. The head of the FBI, personally, had called her and told that if she didn’t step up, the day that Cosgrove and his agents caught whoever was responsible for financing the hit on the remaining racecars without her help would be her last day on the job.
Cosgrove was the lead agent on the investigation, and in the end that was what bothered her the most. She and her people had just been demoted to busy work.
Agents working the computers were shouting out information about the activity that they were monitoring.
A young man’s voice announced “Racecar spotted with a luggage rack on the roof traveling down…”
A woman announced a new message over the closing report of the previous one. “Another racecar spotted on… Wait a minute. I’m not sure I’m reading this right. This says that the car can split itself in half and become two motorcycles?”
“There’s a report of shots fired involving a blue Tempo, a cargo van, and the racecar with the weapon on its roof.” He paused in disbelief. “A laser weapon…” The entire room went silent to listen. “Holy shit that’s cool. This report says that it burst through a luggage carrier and lit up…”
McGregor announced to the room. “Keep the comments to yourself. Just the facts, please.”
“Holy shit!” came yet another man’s voice from the sea of laptops. “Officers have reported that the driver of the laser racecar might be some kind of professional driver. He’s managed to elude all attempts to slow them down!”
A woman stood to get everyone’s attention. “Nevada police sent a video. I’m putting it up on the board. This was shot with the iPhone of a bystander.”
All eyes turned to the giant screen hanging from the ceiling that was usually used for meetings and presentations. The television powered on and images of the MIT car performing a full 360 degree arc around the moving silver Trailblazer, burning tires the entire time. The vehicles were moving well over thirty miles per hour while the laser head fired into the SUV.
Jaws dropped as complete disbelief stunned everyone. In slow motion they watched the clothing and hair of the men in the SUV catch on fire. After the laser struck the driver, the camera view became shaky as the driver of the car containing the phone tried to brake when the Trailblazer suddenly cut across their path. The view changed to that of the SUV crashing into a store front as the video clip ended.
One of the men, who had been sitting on the edge of his seat to see the screen, leaned too far and fell out of his chair.
McGregor stammered, “Ahh, someone get, ah… get Cosgrove on the phone, then I want to talk to Nevada SWAT. After that get California SWAT on the line and someone get me the National Guard. And hurry up before that laser burns the city to the ground!”
~~~
Katrina studied the GPS monitor in front of her. “If we can just drive, we’d be out of the city in less than an hour.”
“Isn’t there a better route out of the city?” Richard asked as he appeared to be twitching while he kept moving his gaze from the road to check all of the mirrors.
“There were construction signs on the straightest route that’s why we turned off. We can’t afford to get caught up in it. I’m still working on a route around it.” Katrina said.
~~~
Brockton and Weaver were in a SWAT vehicle driving down the road to the last known sighting of the MIT car. They, and everyone else in the vehicle, wore flak jackets and special glasses that could reflect lasers. The bullet proof vests that the FBI agents wore were printed with the agency’s initials, and the SWAT vests reflected theirs.
The SWAT vehicle rumbled along as fast as it could. It was big and heavily loaded with men and armor. Top speed could only be reached if they were going downhill with the winds at their back and Las Vegas was flat.
Weaver yelled to the driver, “Can’t this thing go any faster?” No one responded.
~~~
Cosgrove and Colliste had boarded a SWAT chopper that was still powering up. The gunner behind them struggled into his harness.
Cosgrove’s phone rang. He only had seconds before liftoff. “What?”
“McGregor here. I just saw some incredible video. Why are gang members hunting down racecars in my city?”
Cosgrove spat out information as fast as he could. The engines were in high gear and the rotors were almost at the deafening range of normal sound. “Bottom line,” he finished, “there is a million dollar bounty on those racecars and that’s attracting a lot of attention.”
McGregor could hear the rotors and knew she might only get one more question in before the call was cut short. “How are they getting paid, can I track it?”
Cosgrove looked at his phone in disbelief at her stupidity. He brought the phone close to his mouth and shouted. “How are you going to track a payment that hasn’t been made yet?” The incredulity in his tone broadcast his lack of respect as he ended the call.
~~~
Ahead a light flicked to yellow and then changed to red but all of the cars looked normal and there were no police officers in sight so Richard came to a stop. The sun hung low in the sky. Evening was fast approaching. Katrina and Richard were both breathing hard, as though they had pushed the car to the red light instead of having ridden in it. Every time Katrina looked behind them, to see if any police officers had followed them, the weapon on the roof turned with her movement.
What she thought was a cool thing to have on their racecar scared the crap out of all the drivers around them. When the light finally turned green they all took off faster than the MIT car. In that moment they did not feel like they were winning any race, but Richard didn’t care.
“Where to next?” he asked. “I think we need to get off the main roads, maybe skirt the city, and make up the time when we’re on the last stretch to the finish line.”
Katrina nodded. She studied the map for a moment. “Take a right at the next light. We’ll try to get a little closer to the edge of the city.”
Richard nodded in agreement as they approached his next turn. His eyes moved in advance of the turn, to scope out what was ahead of them. He felt better when he took it all in. No police were around. He went as fast as he could without looking like they were fugitives from the law, which he felt strongly that they were, now. Moving several intersections from the last ‘accident’, without any further police interaction, made him feel a little better.
“How far do I need to go on this street to get out of the city? Richard asked.
Katrina didn’t have to say anything. The view outside the windows answered all of his questions.
The buildings were not just businesses anymore. More and more houses filled the spaces between pizza shops, hardware stores, and places to buy cigarettes and booze. Eventually all of the business faded away except for the occasional corner store. The traffic also began to disappear. This made Richard a little nervous. He would have liked a little traffic to blend in with, if that were possible without the luggage rack on their roof. He wondered if there were gang controlled neighborhoods in Las Vegas. That could be very bad, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
~~~
A white box truck sat at a stop sign and watched in astonishment as the MIT car crossed the intersection in front of them. The driver, Jersey, recognized the car immediately and punched the air.
“Finally!” he said. “Try and lose me now.” He waited until the car had moved down the street far enough so that they wouldn’t be spotted and stayed far enough back to remain discrete. The camera guy smiled and turned on their hood mounted video camera.
A couple of older cars pulled out into the street behind the MIT car and gave the truck better cover. They were all driving normally, following the speed limit. The racecar’s occupants had not noticed them yet, everything was calm.
~~~
Katrina watched out of the window as the neighborhoods scrolled by. Las Vegas was very hot and most windows were open to let the breeze in. Curtains moved around even in windows that were not open, and those windows didn’t even have screens. Katrina wondered about that. She had grown up in Maine and even though cold weather controlled the living conditions for six months out of the year, the remaining six months wouldn’t be comfortable without screens on the windows. Bugs could be horrendous.
It clicked in her mind that if the windows were not open that meant that they had air conditioning. Suddenly she felt every degree of the heat. The car’s windows were open, either intentionally because they were still operational, or unintentionally because the glass was missing as a result of gunfire. The car had been designed without air conditioning. A cooling system for the cabin would have robbed too much power from acceleration.
Sweat was beading along the edges of her face. She had a sudden urge to pull off the headset so that some of the heat could escape but thought better of it. Instead she wiped the sweat off of her brow with a napkin and did the same for Richard. He smiled but never took his eyes off the road.
The sound of a helicopter grew louder as it moved closer. Katrina leaned into the windshield and looked up. The weapon followed her actions.
The cars behind them fell back a bit after noticing the weapon’s movement. Suddenly she realized that all kinds of people on bicycles and on the sidewalks were watching them. Some of them were looking up at the chopper.
Katrina leaned back in her seat, suddenly fearful, “Uh… I think we…”
Cosgrove’s voice boomed out of a bullhorn from the sky above them. “Stop! This is the FBI. Pull over and…”
Suddenly the quiet neighborhood exploded around them. It seemed like everyone on the street had a gun and was suddenly shooting at something. Many of them fired at the police. Others shot at the MIT car.
Richard stomped on the accelerator and shouted, “Not Again!”
SWAT vehicles poured into the neighborhood, stopping at the fringes of the gunfire. Men poured out of the backs of the vehicles ready to fight a war. Their specialized training allowed them to set up while being fired at, then return fire. These men were professionals. One at a time, anyone within their range who was holding a gun fell to the ground, injured or dead.
~~~
Agents Brockton and Weaver jumped out of the armored SWAT vehicle and waited. Weaver nodded to the chopper overhead. Brockton understood and pulled out his cell phone to make a call. Weaver covered him. It didn’t take long for her to empty her rifle, she pulled out her pistol and fired again as she backed her partner inside the vehicle. Brockton listened to Cosgrove’s instructions over the sound of bullets hitting the side of the truck.
“Our job is to stop the race but first we need to protect the racecar. Let the locals deal with the gangs.” Brockton nodded as though his boss could see him ended and the call.
He turned to Weaver. “We have to protect the racecar. Drive.”
Weaver pocketed her pistol and got behind the wheel. She drove even deeper into the fire fight. Brockton picked up a rifle and shot out of the back door towards houses where some of the shooters had sought cover.
~~~
The whole scene felt so surreal. Katrina heard Richard shouting at her as he struggled to keep moving, swerving the vehicle hoping to avoid the bullets, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The firefight all around them was like being in a war zone and she was frozen, shutting down, waiting to be shot. She couldn’t handle this kind of pressure. She had signed up for this race to help pay off her student loans. Now look at her. She felt so sick.
Richard punched her in the arm and her surreal moment ended abruptly.
“Ouch!”
Richard shouted again. “Light up the laser! Shoot at everything.”
Anger filled Katrina. “Fine! You want me light up this town? I’ll light up this fucking town!”
Katrina turned on the unit and slowly moved her head in a long slow arc before them. The laser burned a line in the arc of her gaze.
What Katrina didn’t realize was that any wood that had been used in the construction of these houses had turned to kindling after so many years of sitting in the sun. A cricket rubbing its legs together could probably create a spark that would turn the dry wood into a burning inferno.
The weapon’s slow arc moved further across the line of people who were standing in a shooting stance or running to avoid being hit. When the laser beam struck them they crumpled while trying to cover the skin that was burned. Some had clothing that had caught on fire and they writhed on the ground trying to extinguish the flames. When the beam struck anything wooden the running line of the laser created a burst of flames that spread quickly.
The officers watched the destruction in disbelief. They watched the weapon’s arc and dove for cover when it approached. Within moments whole houses were engulfed and thick black smoke billowed into the sky. More people were in the street as they ran out of the houses to escape the quick burning fires. Finally the shooting began to subside as the fire became the bigger threat.
A guy on a bicycle rode towards the center of the street into Richard’s path. He was carrying an RPG and when he skidded to a stop he wasted no time in taking aim on the racecar and quickly fired. He was so close that missing seemed impossible. The rocket launched less than a second after he depressed the trigger.
~~~
Weaver was still driving down the street hoping to catch up with the racecar. The laser on the roof was catching houses on fire and initially she didn’t see the guy on the bicycle. Richard’s weaving allowed her to see the guy but it wasn’t until she saw the launching tube that she fully appreciated what she was driving into. Her eyes grew wide. They were close enough to the racecar now to be engulfed in the explosion if it was hit.
“Time to bail!” she shouted to her partner who was using his pistol out of his window. “Rocket launcher! Jump!”
Brockton, having spent time in the military on the front lines in Iraq needed no further information. Rocket launcher warnings meant run for your life. He wasted no time, bolted for the rear of the vehicle, and jumped.
Weaver left the truck rolling forward and ran after her partner. There was no time to avoid what was coming.
~~~
Richard screamed like a girl at the sight of the RPG being fired. They were so close that he knew that he couldn’t get out of the way. In a split second decision he grabbed Katrina’s head and dragged it towards his lap while he cut the steering wheel as hard as he could while stomping down on the brake.
~~~
Cosgrove stared down from his window at the scene below. He couldn’t believe an RPG was being used by a civilian. His perch in the air gave him a full view of the close-quartered attack. The armored vehicle had almost caught up to the racecar and had no possibility of getting out of range in time. He knew that Brockton and Weaver were inside. Once the missile fired he knew in his gut that his people would be dead. He slapped the window and shouted at his people, though he knew it was impossible for anyone to hear him.
“Get out of there, get out!”
~~~
Richard cut the wheel hard. The racecar spun 360 degrees. Time seemed to slow down. He waited for the explosion that he knew was coming. As the car spun fires exploded around them as the matchbook houses were hit by their laser.
In the corner of his eye he watched the missile enter through his door’s window. He turned his face away to allow more space for the missile’s flight path. He held Katrina’s head down and the projectile sailed through the open window on Katrina’s side of the car. He could feel the hot the gases being ejected from the tail end of the missile.
The MIT car was still rotating as the missile followed its trajectory straight into the windshield of the armored vehicle. It exploded with spectacular grandeur, as if it were in a movie. The truck blew up and backwards, spinning in the air. It landed with sickening crunch of metal and glass on its roof many feet further from the racecar that was already moving forward after coming out of its spin, trying to put some distance between the two vehicles.
One of the wheels of the truck broke free and bounced back up into the air. The force driving it was so great that it bounced several times eventually rolling all the way back to the box truck that had been following from what the driver thought had been a safe distance. The rogue wheel bounced onto the hood of the truck exactly where the camera was mounted. The camera was crushed and the hood of the truck was dented badly.
Richard was driving blindly; his only thought was the distance between them and the exploding SWAT truck, when there was a loud thud. He had hit the front tire of the bicycle and the guy with the RPG flew off. He landed in a crumpled heap on the brown grass on the other side of the sidewalk. The bike bounced backwards a bit and fell over. Richard swerved around it and kept driving.
When he looked back he could see the SWAT team encircling their assailant, weapons drawn.
~~~
Brockton and Weaver had ejected themselves out of the rear of their vehicle and had lain in the street with their hands over their heads in pure instinct, as if that could have protected them from a blast. Fire exploded all around them. When the truck had flipped over in the air with the force of the explosion it had passed over them in the air. They felt the force of the blast pushing them against the pavement. A cloud of fire passed over the cowering agents as they prayed.
It had happened in less than a second. It wasn’t until LVMPD officers ran up and covered them with blankets that they knew that they were still alive.
~~~
Katrina’s head popped back up as Richard moved his hand back to the wheel to avoid the fallen bicycle. He sped away to get them out of the inferno that had once been a quiet neighborhood. He moved his left hand to his face resting his elbow on the open window as he steered with the other hand, trying to seem casual. Behind them he could see flames licking the sky.
“What the hell happened?” Katrina asked, as Richard turned left, still trying to put space between them and the mess that they had left behind.
~~~
Cosgrove was plastered to the chopper’s window watching his agents on the ground. All kinds of emergency personal surrounded them. He had never lost an agent before, never mind two of them. Colliste took a call interrupting the stunned silence.
“It’s for you,” Colliste said over the sound of the engines.
Cosgrove looked like he was going to be sick. “Tell them I’ll call back.”
“It’s the governor of Nevada,” he said, urging him to take the call.
With apprehension Cosgrove took the phone.
“Yes sir,” Cosgrove choked out.
A harsh angry voice greeted him. “Cosgrove, let me tell you what I see on television right now. A whole neighborhood is on fire. The flames are so high they can be seen by the NASA robots on Mars. I understand from the Nevada Highway Patrol that a single racecar caused all of the destruction. Is that true?”
“Sir, that would be yes and no.”
The voice became even angrier across the connection. “Don’t speak in riddles. I want that car out of my city.”
“But sir…”
“I don’t want to hear excuses I want them out of the city now.”
“But sir…”
“Agent, Do you know what I have the most of in this state? Sand, lots and lots of fucking sand. If they burn down what little city I have left, then my constituency will be geologic waste. And you know what agent, last I checked, sand don’t vote!”
“Sir, it wasn’t the racecar or our team that caused this catastrophe, it was the gangs in that neighborhood.” Cosgrove yelled back before he could get cut off.
There was a pause on the phone and Cosgrove knew he had made a mistake.
“I have the highest ranking Highway Patrolman standing next to me whispering in my ear that this racecar has a laser weapon on its roof. From what I understand, the gangs might have started a war against this racecar, but it was the laser that started the fires. Is he lying?”
“No sir. But they were only protecting themselves…” Cosgrove was cut off again.
“It almost sounds like you’re trying to defend those idiots.”
“Sir, we were trying to protect them only to get them out of the city faster. I didn’t want any more civilian casualties. I may have lost two of my agents down there.” Cosgrove spat out so he wouldn’t be interrupted again.
“Look where that got us. I don’t give a shit what you do out in the sand but you are not to engage them in my city again. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“If you can’t figure out how to apprehend these racecars outside my city, I will personally make sure that your career with the FBI is over.”
“But sir,” he began.
“No ‘But’, get these cars out of my city! Figure it out. Give them a police escort, I don’t care. Just get them out of my city!” the voice boomed out the last word before the line went dead.
Cosgrove looked at his phone, then down to the street where his agents were still on the ground. He took the helicopter’s phone and slammed it into the glass, then threw it out of the open door past the gunner’s ear. The gunner turned his head in surprise, glanced at Cosgrove, and immediately faced forward after seeing the anger on his face. The burning neighborhood was a more pleasant sight at that moment.
~~~
Richard drove, trying to keep his attention focused on the road while still resting with one hand over the left side of his face.
Katrina kept prodding for information since he had pushed her down and she had been completely unable to see what had happened.
Finally he said, “I saved your life, okay! Leave it at that.”
Katrina thought for a moment but wouldn’t leave it alone. “What was happening that I didn’t see?”
Richard didn’t want to answer the question. He asked one instead. “Where am I supposed to go?”
Katrina immediately looked for the map and noticed that it was singed around the edges. “Follow this street for a while. We’re on the outskirts of the city.”
But she immediately went back to her previous question. “What happened?” she asked again, but this time she sounded less insistent and more motherly. That’s when she realized that he was still holding the side of his face and asked, “Why is your hand over your face?”
Richard looked down for a moment without moving his left hand. The hand on the steering wheel began to shake.
“I did a really stupid thing.” He admitted as he took his right hand off the wheel and covered the right half of his face too.
Katrina immediately grabbed the wheel and steered them into the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall. She was glad that he had at least had the presence of mind to take his foot off the accelerator. When they coasted to a stop Katrina pulled the emergency brake and unsnapped her seat belt. She leaned over to unsnap his seat belt and pull him into a hug. As he moved toward her he dropped his hands to reach out to her and the left side of his face was exposed.
Katrina gasped and Richard quickly tried to cover the injury again. Katrina pulled his hand away and saw the burn that covered the entire side of his face and neck.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Katrina said in quick succession.
~~~
The white truck, its mounted camera now damaged beyond repair, pulled to the side of the street when the MIT had stopped. Through the racecar’s shattered back window they could see Katrina bent over in her seat but could not tell if Richard was in the car. The cameraman was now holding a much smaller camera and he panned the area searching for Richard. Perhaps he was puking after what they had just witnessed. var v��U����