by Dameon Gibbs
She leaned slightly forward with her hands clasped to her chest, summoning up the most adoring eyes and sultriest voice she could, cooing, “Oh I just love it when you’re masterful!” and immediately sat back, staring straight ahead with her hands in her lap and her mouth set stone hard.
Draggo was a useful lieutenant to Keaast because he was a cold, sadistic, psychopathic killer, and an expert in all forms of hand-to-hand combat. He was willing to take orders to their fullest and most lethal completion. Beyond that, however, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack and Ramona’s sarcasm sailed well over his head. He looked at her, puzzled, certain he’d been mocked but not quite able to figure it out.
He turned back around in his seat, his eyes once again focused on the road, but not before signaling his men in the back seat to quiet their guest while he cleaned his nails with a seal pup knife. Her natural instincts of survival took over; she began to thrash her legs and kick out at the men holding her, but her resistance was futile as a white cloth was pressed tightly against her face causing her world to go dark.
“Sir, it looks like they’re letting us get to the highway,” said the driver.
“Probably going to try more roadblocks with their tin can cars. No civilians will get hurt,” Draggo replied as he saw people dive out of the way of the first car, “Well, maybe not as many. Contact the other cars tell them to be ready to go hot. I want the cops sorry they even thought about getting in our way! ” he ordered and went on playing with his knife.
۞۞۞۞
The police did their best to open pathways in traffic and keeping the mayhem to a minimum by facilitating the passage of the Order’s vehicles to the highway. A hundred yards behind, Edge and Tucker watched as the objects of their pursuit swerved through traffic like a needle through fabric. For vehicles that size, it was impressive.
As the Order’s vehicles pulled off onto the highway, Edge took note of the substantial amount of traffic.
“Well, this is not fun. Oh, shit!” Edge yelled as a patrol car nearly ran him off the road. He swerved onto the shoulder lightly scraping the wall. This newest addition made for a total of nine police cars, plus Tucker’s, in pursuit. “This isn’t going to work if our guys run us off the road. This might call for some unconventional techniques if we plan to get around them.”
“Do what you gotta. It’s not like you haven’t already...”
Before Tucker could finish, Edge floored it and cut the car across traffic. His hand never left the horn as he warned cars of his approach; some slowed down, others either panicked and floored it or acted like a deer in headlights. Both caused Edge to have to do some fancy gear shifting, maneuvering, and a lot of cursing. Tucker looked at one driver who had his middle finger up. Tucker simply held up Edge’s sidearm. The person’s hand dropped immediately, as he tried to sink below the window.
As Edge hit the median, the cop car on the shoulder started moving over to block him. “God damn it,” he said as he grabbed the phone from Tucker, “Tell the police to let us through. Silver car on the median has agents in pursuit.”
He threw the phone back to Tucker as he heard the man comply. A few seconds later, the cop car pulled back onto the road, and Edge sped off past them.
By this point, news of the chase involving large armored vehicles was all over the media. The police issued statements warning that the three vehicles were driving “extremely aggressively” and strongly cautioning drivers get out of the way. Edge and Tucker noticed that exit ramps and the right shoulder were beginning to become crowded as the word spread and most people opted for caution, pulling out of the way. It looks like people are finally getting the idea, thought Tucker.
There were, however, a good number of people who just plodded steadily along, oblivious to everything around them. They were dangerous because when events broke through their shell of concentration, they usually panicked. Most often, they jammed on the brakes until they could figure out what was going on: a minivan cut-off by the lead armored vehicle did just that and swerved to the right, directly into the path of a rapidly overtaking police car, of which they were also unaware. The officer at the wheel had to engage in heroic evasion maneuvers to keep from punting the minivan into the next world.
Most dangerous of all were the mere idiots, usually younger, who tried to get into the middle of things, holding their cell phones and streaming video to the internet. The police had no patience with them and forced them to the side, where the intercepting officer would then fine them enough infractions to write an entire month’s quota of tickets all at once.
“There! Towards the left, passing that semi,” Tucker pointed out as Edge cut through to the middle lanes. With the exception of a few cars and a semi with two trailers attached, the majority of vehicles left were police. Tucker watch the rear vehicle pull in front of the semi and before he could comment on the semi blocking their view, he noticed flashing red objects beneath the truck.
“Hey, Edge,” Tucker started to ask, “What do...”
“Hold on!” Edge yanked the wheel to the left as Tucker saw something he thought was possible only in the movies. Two large explosions erupted under the semi, one just behind the cab, the other under the rear trailer. All the tires on the cab were blown out, as the explosion lifted the rear over four feet of the ground, causing the front of the truck to dig into the pavement, sending out chunks of asphalt like a boat’s wake.
The cab slid until it suddenly stopped when it jammed into an expansion joint at an overpass. The front trailer continued forward, lifting up as it rotated the cab over the front bumper. The rear trailer had been blown free by its explosion and its front propelled up, porpoise-like, and then crashed to the ground. The forward end dug into the pavement, as the rear whipped around into the lane on the right and began to tumble, rolling over two police cars. This is bad, Tucker thought, staring dead at the accident
The front trailer, now fully off the ground and pointing nearly straight up, began to roll lazily to its left, like a whale cavorting. Tucker’s head punched into the headrest as Edge floored it, obviously intent on shooting past the impending blockage. Tucker wanted to ask if Edge had he lost his mind but all he could see was the shadow of the trailer above them, falling. “Edge! What? Aaaah!!”
Everything went black for a second, hearing the engine revving Tucker realized that he was still a part of this world. With his eyes closed, he had no idea how close they had come to being flattened. And he was perfectly fine with that.
Tucker sighed in relief, promptly turning, “Are you out of your damn mind?”
“When necessary,” Edge responded looking in the review mirror. He observed many police cars safely navigating slowly around the wreckage. Unfortunately, a few explosions center at the semi indicated that a few failed to the do the same. Those few straggling cars that remained on the road and were not involved in the chase made it their priority to get onto the shoulder, median or closest exit, anything that would maintain their safety. “Took them long enough.”
One patrol car maneuvered closer, putting them at the rear armored vehicles seven o’clock position. Its passenger side window lowered as a cop leaned out with his sidearm. Edge simply shook his head. “Not going to work.”
“What he’s doing?”
His question was answered as the cop begin to fire at the rear tire of the vehicle. It took nearly half the clip but a bullet finally hit the rubber, and the air blew out. The vehicle wobbled for a second then lined its self back up and continued to run as if nothing had happened.
“But he just blew the tire out, why is it not stopping?” Tucker expressed his surprise.
“They’re called run flats. Has a special ring inside that provides support and allows the car to keep moving, even with a flat tire.” Edge answered as he watched the vehicle maintain its speed. “That’s why I told the dispatcher to relay that they need to send an equipped helicopter with a heavy gun. Based on what the Order has thrown at us already, I’d bet my pract
ically non-existent salary that those things have the highest level anti-ballistic armor for the panels, engine, and gas tank. Police weapons are mostly anti-personnel and aren’t gonna do much against heavy military vehicles.”
“One of them dropped explosives; what the hell else could they have on them?” Tucker started to look concerned.
“I could tell you, but you’re more than likely going to see them in a few minutes.”
“I can’t wait.”
Seeing that shooting out the tires was not going to work, the cops tried ramming it. Using its bull bar grill, the police car hit near the rear tire, attempting to force the vehicle to spin out. The body rocked a bit, but the vehicle did not change direction in the least.
“They’re going to need something a lot heavier,” Edge commented. After a few seconds, a police SUV drove by.
“Now there you go,” Tucker commented.
“Still not a guarantee. Those armored vehicles can weigh seven tons or more,” Edge said as the rear APC suddenly gunned itself into the right lane behind the SUV with Ramona. The lead APC switched to the left as its roof opened up like shutters on a window. An oddly designed object popped up, followed by a man who swung it down and drew a bead on the oncoming police.
“Uh oh! Minigun! Getting exciting now...” Edge observed, sounding very uneasy.
“You’re joking!” Tucker responded as the gun spun to life.
The rotating barrels begin to spin so rapidly it appeared to be a solid cylinder. The muzzle flashed from firing 7.62 mm rounds at a rate of three thousand per minute, streamed from the weapon, its flash so bright that it nearly concealed the gun. The only evidence that bullets were fired were the erupting chunks of the highway as the rounds burrowed in, and the torrent of empty casings spread over the highway.
The police tried to fall back, but they were well within the range of fire and the fusillade quickly cut them apart. The police SUV was the first to go: the front tires disintegrated under the hail of gunfire, its grill was blasted to pieces as bullets penetrated the engine compartment. And like the scene of a horror flick, the windshield exploded into a red mist. It was not long before its rims guided the vehicle off the road only to flip onto its side.
The bullet stream then swept to the other car, ripping through the vehicle as if they were paper. The car began to drift aimlessly across traffic, slowing, for there was no longer a living hand at the wheel.
It was then that Tucker noticed the armed vehicle lining its self up with the rest of the cars that were pursuing it. “Holy shit, We need to do something. If not, it’s going to tear us apart!” Tucker yelled.
“On it!” Edge replied as he changed gears and sent the car speeding towards the Order’s vehicle.
“No! No! Not towards it!” Tucker yelled again.
As their car swerved left, he saw the pavement next to him erupt as they barely avoided being hit. Edge continued to dodge and weave. I can’t believe this is happening! Tucker thought.
The side view mirror popped suddenly, leaving only the wires dangling. Just as he was ready to accept death for the second time that day, the firing stopped. Tucker looked around confused.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Edge let out a breath, which he seemed to have been holding for a while, as he swung the car to the left of the armored vehicle. “Those gun mounts have a limit to their downward angle. Get inside that triangle, and they’d be shooting their car to hit us.” Tucker was looking whiter than usual as Edge said casually, “I’ll be honest; I didn’t think we were going to make that.”
Tucker closed his eyes again. “Really!? How about next time you hold the honesty until we’re having beers afterward.”
Tucker looked to the rear and saw the remaining cars dodging and weaving through the gunfire. Even at their distance, the gun was wreaking havoc. He called the crisis team. “Where is the goddamn helicopter?”
“Approximately two minutes out.”
“Tell it to move faster. We’ve got vehicles with high-powered weapons, and they’re doing a number on us.”
Edge shook his head. “It’s always two minutes out, or five. Never right now.” Now he was in a cat-and-mouse game of close quarter driving. Get too close and the monstrous tires would crush them; get too far away and the gun would tear them apart. The vehicle kept repositioning, trying to offer the gunner a shot. At one point, the vehicle surged ahead at a speed a car its size should not have been able to make. Edge floored it as the gun shot just over the roof. He swore he could hear the bullets scraping off the paint.
“How do we stop a truck, that’s just short of being a tank, with a fucking Gatling gun attached to it?” Tucker demanded to know.
“By having a much bigger gun or anti-tank missiles, both of which we sorely lack at the moment,” Edge responded. Looking ahead, he could see the lead vehicle and the one carrying Ramona pulling away from their position. The one next to them suddenly slowed, but the gun was aiming up and to the right, as if it was going to shoot down the sky. As they cleared the overpass, the gunner started firing, and Tucker craned his neck to see their target.
Another half dozen police cars were charging down the entrance ramp just after the overpass. The gunner immediately focused on the two lead cars, its rounds pierced the vehicle’s side, sliced through anyone inside before exiting out the other side. Causing them to crash into each other and the guardrails, fully blocking the path. The third car plowed into the wreckage and vaulted over the guardrail onto the median ten feet below. The three following cars braked and skidded, trying to avoid the pile-up ahead but were too close and moved too fast. The gunner releases nearly two seconds of continuous fire in their direction before the APC abruptly accelerated. Edge followed suit, doing his best to stay in the gun’s shadow.
Another stream of police cars began to enter the on-ramp but, seeing the wreckage ahead, stopped and rerouted. They’re probably going to try and get on at the next exit, thought Edge. He grabbed the cell phone and yelled at the crisis operator, “Tell the police cars to stay the fuck away! Do not engage! Repeat! Do not engage! They are totally outgunned and are not prepared to deal with this kind of adversary! All they’re doing is giving them a higher body count!”
The armored vehicle surged forward again but instead of changing lanes it slammed on its brakes. Edge had no choice but to swerve to the right and before he knew it, they were a good two car lengths ahead. “This is not a good place.”
Tucker looked over his shoulder and saw the vehicle slow its speed, like a hunter who knew he had his prey right where he wanted. “Uh, yeah,” was all he could muster.
Edge watched the gun swing around and lined up with their car. Can only dodge and weave so long, before they get ya.
“Fuck that!” Edge yelled as he cut across the vehicle’s path. If they were going to take him out, he was taking them out with him. Tucker grabbed the passenger grip handle, but it pulled out in his hand, due to all recent use.
The roof around the mini-gun suddenly started sparking, blood erupted from the gunner as he fell back into the hatch, distracting the driver of the vehicle. Then Edge heard the percussive sound of helicopter blades above them. The crisis team operator came on the cell phone. “Chopper says to get the hell away from the car. You’re holding him up.”
“Gladly,” Edge replied as he slammed on the brakes and watched the vehicle speed pass. The helicopter flew a short distance ahead and came to a hover over the highway. They could see the gunner at their position in the side door of the helicopter wielding a heavyweight belt-fed gun. He opened fire at the APC but at the initial distance, the bullets simply bounced off the heavy armor plate, leaving the vehicle unhindered.
The vehicle swerved left and right trying to dodge the incoming fire, but the helicopter and its gunner just shadowed him like a game of pong, keeping the lethal stream of projectiles hammering at the vehicle.
As the distance between the helicopter and the vehicle shortened the rounds began to
have an effect. Even the best armor has an upper limit of the number of hits it can take before failing, and the nearly constant stream of large caliber rounds eventually breached the vehicle’s protection. First to go was the glass, allowing rounds to penetrate and ricochet around the interior. Within seconds, the APC drove off the road and up an embankment by an overpass, crashing into the support beams beneath the upper roadway, only to roll back down and come to rest upside-down under the bridge.
“Okay! That levels the playing field a bit,” Edge cheered as he accelerated the car to resume the chase of the remainder of the Order’s group. As they passed the wreckage, it exploded into flames, the type that burned everything, leaving only a hollow shell of black ash and melted wires, to prevent any retrieval of their technology. The Order held its secrets close.
With renewed confidence, Edge floored the pedal, and the car took off. In the few seconds, since he backed off to give the helicopter a clear shot, the enemy had gained a tremendous lead. Tucker allowed optimism to kick in as he saw the enemy getting closer, one-quarter mile at a time. “Come on Edge; we need to catch up with them. We can do this.” Tucker’s leg started shaking in anticipation.
“Just remember, so far we only took one of those armored cars out; they have another. That helicopter is going to need to take it out before we open the champagne.” Edge felt he had, to be honest. If they could take down that other APC, the SUV would be easy to apprehend, but Lord only knew what other surprises that armored car had. Worst case scenario: since the Order does not believe in leaving witnesses and they blow the SUV, hostage and all. Edge decided that thought was not going to be shared with Tucker.
“Where the hell is the ‘copter going?” Edge asked, noticing it pulling away.
Tucker relayed the message from the crisis operator. “They said they had to reload and fly ahead of them. They’ll be waiting about a mile out.”
“Alright, let’s be the hounds and drive this fox to the hunter,” Edge suggested as he watched the speedometer break a hundred miles per hour. Without having to dodge a Gatling gun, he was free to let the car fly. The car handled smoothly, reacting to Edge’s every move. It was the only thing that had allowed them to avoid the Order’s various weapons so far.
