Artis pulls slightly ahead of the Escalade, then abruptly switches to the on-coming lane, slamming on the brakes.
The Escalade passes by with a definite What the hell?!" exclamation pasted on the faces of its occupants. As it does so, Brian lets off two shots from his rifle. The shots punch through the driver's side doors leaving noticable holes.
Up front, Gavin sees his chance to squeeze off a few shots of his own. He quickly gets off three shots in quick succession. The first shot glances off the thick hood, the second spattering across the BP glass of the windshield, with the third busting right through the grill and into the radiator. Small puffs of steam begin to seep out of the Escalade's hood.
Raven racks his shotgun then leans out of the other window. The first shot busts out the right side of the Escalade's headlight array as the second goes wide.
As her ride is swiss-cheesed, Tracy screams into her phone.
"You fucking bastards! I gave you your only chance....DIE!"
*click*
Tracy's final words are proceeded by a set of machine guns popping out of the Escalades pock-marked hood. The guns spin up and unleash two bursts at the PT Cruiser. The shell casings fly out at an alarming rate, with the trail of bullets snaking just wide of the PT Cruiser.
Behind the Escalade, Artis fades back into the predator position and switches on his vehicle guns. Along with the bright muzzle flashes of the Escalade's miniguns, Jess also sees a small port slowly opening on the SUV's trailer hitch. Its rear windows also begin going down.
Jess leans out and fires off two shots at the back of the Escalade. Perhaps it was the kick of the 12-ga. or possible the anticipation of some real action...but both slugs go wide, smiting a roadside mile marker.
Harry accelerates, widening the gap between him and the Escalade.
Gavin slides back the bolt of his rifle, firing two more rounds downrange. The 30-06 bullets tear into the Escalade creating from some fresh speed holes in the hood.
Artis guns the Agency vehicle into the back of the Escalade, nailing the corner of its bumper. The driver struggles to maintain course but overcorrects, sending the Escalade into a 50MPH spin. It careens off the highway, flipping four times before landing on the driver's side.
Seizing the opportunity to vanquish many foes in one fell swoop, Artis turns around and trains his vehicle guns on the Escalade.
YOU'RE FIRED!
The machine guns rip apart the Escalade's undercarriage, striking the gas tank.
[color=red:fdfeee1b9e]KA-BOOM![/color]
The SUV bursts into flames, shooting parts of the car in all directions. Debris lands on the hood of the Agency car with a loud thunk!.
Artis radios the team over the open channel.
"Let's retrieve what we can of Buzzard's computer... um... how about Gavin and Brian make sure the threat is neutralized and get the case, I'll cover them with the car's MGs and the rest will watch for the cops?
The smoke clears from the debris on the hood. It looks like a stainless steel computer case...with a charred and severed hand attached to it.
"Um...nevermind about the computer. I think we found it."
Artis gets out to bring it inside the car.
That was handy...
The two cars meet up with Gavin and Brian moving in to clean up what's left of the bad guys. They find the driver's mangled carcass in his seat, his hands now fused to the steering wheel. The guy behind him apparently had his neck snapped on impact.
Gavin gives Brian the thumbs up on his side. Brian isn't so fortunate.
"Uh...guys....couldn't we say there was at least four people in that truck? I'm only counting the two Gavin just found. Tracy and the person behind her must have been thrown clear of the wreck."
"We should get back in the vehicles, and Gavin should break out his cellphone interceptor. If they survived with their phones, they might be trying to call in a pickup."
As he says that, Brian spots some movement in the sagebrush nearby.
"Wait, I think we have 'em."
Brian slings his rifle for his MP5, firing a wide burst at the suspected area. Immediately, two pleas are heard.
Brian ejects the clips for the pistols into his hand, pocketing them, than nudges the captives forward with the SMG.
"You really are rather lucky" he says as they walk toward the waiting car, "Can't even bring down two wreck victims in a pile of sage...must be getting rusty." He grins at the two of them.
He hands the cellphone to one of the other members of his car. "Check the ladies voicemail...we may just continue this little lucky streak."
The team gets to the safehouse without much ado. Stork is waiting for them as they cart out Tracy and a goon answering to the name of Ron. The good doctor appears to have had a long night of interrogation as she looks noticably fatigued with her surgical scrubs considerably bloodstained.
"Did any of you happen to bring coffee...I'm beat. I got as much out of Annie as I could before she passed out from the shock. I've got her stabilized and sedated for now."
Upon hearing the mention of Annie, the bound and gagged Tracy goes ballistic, putting up a good fight but is no match for the agents. The goon seems somewhat concerned about his situation and gives the group an innuendoed look of Hey, I'll tell you whatever I know...
Stork takes off her rubber gloves and lies down on a couch. She rubs her eyes and yawns.
"You should probably tie our new lady friend up like we did Annie, he (looking at Ron) shouldn't put up too much of fight. Just cuff him to one of the steel rails in the interrogation room. There's food in the fridge and a wardrobe of assorted clothes in the bedroom down the hall. My report on Annie should still be on the computer screen in my office. I'd check on Annie in about an hour or so just to make sure she's still out. If she isn't, just hit the button on the IV drip. As for me...I'm getting a few hours of sleep."
Stork's Report on Annie
Annie. Caucasian female. Approximately 27 years of age, blond hair/blue eyes. Subject came into agent's care after suffering multiple lacerations, contusions, and various other injuries. After initially stabilizing the subject's condition, I proceeded with SOP and began the interrogation. Administering the subject with 10cc's of Sodium Pentathol, the subject immediately began to resist the effects. Waiting approximately ten minutes it was clear the dosage was not working. I then went to Stage 2 of interrogation. Applying a dental drill to the subject's upper right incisor, the patient appeared to still be unrelenting. The subject's scapula, which has just be reset into place was immediately re-dislocated. Subject promptly responded to questioning. A detailed list is as follows:
1-Subject and subject's sister "Tracy" were to meet "James Sedgewick" and "Andrew Stewart" at Henderson Executive Airport at approximately 02:30.
2-Subject was to then take a private aircraft from Henderson, Nevada to Seattle, Washington. They were then to refuel and fly to Vladivostok, Russia. Subject was to then get further orders.
Raven runs a trace on Tracy's phone. No voice mail but the last three calls were made to the same number...the same number Andrew gave Jess. The time of the second to last call was at 7:17am, approximately 5 minutes before the exploding Escalade incident on the highway. The very last call came at 7:35am, a few minutes before Gavin and Brian found Tracy hiding in the sagebrush.
Ron obligingly accepts Harry's hospitality. It turns out he was originally supposed to be driving, be he happened to luckily forget his sunglasses this morning. For that twist of fate, he's more than willing to get out of this mess as soon as humanly possible.
Ron really doesn't know much. He owed Tracy a favor for getting him out a lone shark payment and was doing a temporary heavy job to repay his debt to her. His only job was to make sure she didn't take a bullet...which he points out that he did do his job. While not being a hired goon, Ron has what he calls a "slight" gambling problem.
Brian looks over the report, his eyes stopping at the dental drill. That bothered him, and he flickered over the rest of the report, stopping at the results of the little session. The image of the bloodstained apron popped into his mind. He turned, speaking to whoever is closest.
"Tell me if we get anything else useful out of our lady friend, but for godsake don't tell me how."
He stepped outside, leaning against the doorframe of the house, looking out. What was going on inside...it reminded him too much of what the IRA did to some very good friends of his. He wondered quitely when he had lost the high ground.
Jess' phone rings, the caller-ID indicates it is from Stewart's portable.
"Hey babe. Sorry I haven't gotten back to you. Things have been...well, kind of fouled up since the incident at the club last night. I know this is probably completely out of line but if you can find it in your heart to forgive me...I need you to do me a favor..."
Jess excuses herself with a handsign, then walks out of the house - never know when the captives might decide to shout a bit.
"Alright...Andrew..."
There's a slight pause as Jess pretends to collect herself.
"Where have you been ? Why did you run away ? I don't have the slightest idea what's going on here, and chances are, I won't like it, but I want to know. And I want to know *now*."
Another slight pause before Jess continues in a softer voice.
"Marines have told me enough fairytales. Maybe the SAS can be a bit more honest, because I'm sick of not knowing where I'm standing."
"I seem to have had a run-in with the law. It's not something I'm proud of, but I am definitely going be incarcerated in the American prison system. What I am about to ask you to do would probably get you 1 to 5 in a Nevada state prison, but I believe the reward outweighs the risk. For this service I am willing to pay you $1 million dollars cash, in uncirculated bills, cash upon delivery. Still interested?"
"Nevada state prison ? 1 million in uncirculated cash ? My god..."
"Andrew...I don't know what to say. I've never gone this far...dammit, I don't even have any tickets for speeding...You do realize that the police would go ballistic if they heard you talk like that. It's just...give me a minute to think."
Jess mutes the phone, then runs back into the house to give a short account of what has transpired so far.
Exactly 57.7 seconds later, Jess resumes the call, again from outside.
"Andrew ? Listen, and listen good. I don't want your money. My friendship and trust can not be bought. I'll help you, but I expect more than cash. I'm not a cheap street whore who'll do everything for a few bucks ! I expect some answers, and they'd better be good. *sigh* Now, what is it ?"
"Bravo to you. James wanted me to throw the money into the equation as just an incentive to talk, my apologies for doubting your character. Long story short, while in the scuffle to procure transportation from the hospital, my PDA was lost. I was just over at the hospital parking lot and couldn't find it anywhere, so that leads me to believe that the police found it and have it locked in their evidence room. And since walking into a police station just after you committed assault and battery is not exactly wise...I need you to do it for me. You have a good face and charming personality, I have no doubt you could do it. Now, what is on the PDA that is worth a felony? Let's just say some chaps in Russia are willing to pay a very sum of money for it. My sources tell me that the Second Precinct of the LVPD processed the crime scene, so my advice is to start there. Time of is of the essence my dear, with my offer good for the next three hours, at that point I'll have to use a more conventional way of getting what I need. Dare I say the incident at the hospital will pale in comparison to what I have to do at the police station. Are you in or out?"
"Just tell me where I need to deliver it. And in absence of a personal confrontation, consider this the final goodbye. Take your computer and get the hell out of here, 'cause by God I'll have the police on your ass if I ever see you again."
Oh damn...that pretty much answers my next question of "Did you want to go to Bora Bora after all of this is said and done?"
"Um...ok, that's fair enough. I suppose I deserve that. You can deliver it to the Oasis Bar and Grill just outside of Henderson, Nevada. It's about 15 minutes south of Vegas of Interstate 516. Look for my Jaguar, I'll be inside with your handling fee ready to go once I confirm that the files are intact. Thanks again, you're the best."
Dieter
