| From: | Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Hunters and Hunted #3 |
| Date: | Mon, 14 Feb 2000 22:58:43 +0000 |
>>>>>[Since we seem to be pooling the reports here, thought I'd give you
my own view.
+++++begin video
Hart slows the police cruiser to a crawl, looking through a perimeter
fence, as she sees half-a-dozen cars and a black limousine disappearing
into a hangar.
The airfield is one of the dozens of small commercial fields that dot the
Seattle metroplex, one 6,000-foot runway and two taxiways; a dozen
hangars; and a sprawling mess of cargo containers awaiting collection or
delivery.
Hart grabs her car's radio mike, checks the frequency, keys the XMIT. "I
just got a hot contact. I think it's Malone."
"Stop him." Lilith's East Coast drawl. "We're on our way. Foot, horse and
Marines. Just slow him down until we get there."
"Done." Hart stamps on the Patrol-1's accelerator, tyres slithering before
they bite and drive the cruiser forward. The service gate she's aiming for
crashes and crumples under the two-ton impact of the heavy vehicle.
A sleek, silver Dassault airliner emerges from the hangar, half-a-mile
away. It turns towards her, following the taxiway: Hart floors the
accelerator in pursuit, racing at it -
The slightest flicker of movement at the hangar door, and Hart is still
trying to focus on that new threat when the front of her car explodes.
For several seconds Julianne Hart has no attention for nothing except
keeping her ruined vehicle under control. Something - an antitank missile,
perhaps - has thoroughly wrecked her engine and ruined her steering, and
the Patrol-1 is barely under control. But, as it slithers to a halt, Hart
manages to keep it on the taxiway, half-blocking it and trapping the silver
Dassault -
The Dassault slows as it approaches, swinging to the side. Hart tries her
door, finding the warped frame won't open. The regional airliner takes a
few seconds to pick its way past the ruined police car, before it
accelerates away over and past.
Hart screams in rage and frustration and attacks the jammed door with a
terrible fury, until it gives way and she can scramble clear of the Patrol-1.
Bullets are whipcracking past her head or smacking into her vehicle, as the
mercenaries left to cover Malone's retreat fire at her: she ignores them,
to empty her Thunderbolt at the silver Dassault as it reaches the end of
the taxiway and swings around onto the runway.
Twelve rounds of 11mm Ruger Caseless, fired at better than two hundred
yards' range, fail to make any impression whatsoever, and Hart finally
deigns to admit that the rifle fire behind her is a threat as she drops
behind her wrecked car to reload. Another RPG slams into the Patrol-1
and lethal shrapnel whirrs past her, the cruiser beginning to burn
reluctantly, but Hart finishes her reload regardless.
The aircraft slows, stops, at the beginning of the runway: its engines
begin to spin up to full power, the pilot holding the aircraft on its brakes
as the twin turbofans build to their maximum RPMs -
And as the Dassault's engines wind up with a shrill whine of power, and as
Caballero bullets smash into Hart's car, another shrill shriek of power
reaches Hart's ears.
A Jensen Interceptor, its supercharger engaged and running at full power.
Dust makes Hart's eyes water, as Lilith's black pursuit vehicle flashes past
at an appaling velocity, rapidly devouring the distance between it and the
Dassault bizjet.
Lilith said she needed thirty seconds: and, perhaps, Hart has provided
them.
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- 1Lt Julianne Hart <22:57:54/02-14-61>
