| From: | ANGLISS BRIAN EDWARD <angliss@****.Colorado.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | ....Meets The Irresistable Force. |
| Date: | Fri, 28 Jun 1996 00:03:32 -0600 (MDT) |
+++++ Include Communication/Camera Download +++++
CD: Commander Drake
SM: Sergeant Montoya
SZ: Sergeant Ziv
+++++ Drake and Montoya are in a car, driving north on I-5 +++++
SZ: Sir? We got it. Helo's down on the top floor, parking structure at
the Kingdome. No damage, he left a certified stick for five hundred
newyen and a note saying 'gas money'. No Lynch either, but blood all
over the right seat. Forensics isn't here to verify, but it's got to be
his. He's hurt bad.
CD: And not going anywhere fast or public with that leg....
SZ: Team's pulling the security tapes. I'd guess he stole a car and ran
for it.
CD: Get blood samples from the helo and get another sending underway. Do
this one stacked. Some kind of locator, knockout, and stabilization. We may
need it.
SZ: We got it, sir.... he stole himself a blue Americar. Registration
and details already to Lone Star. If he passes a camera, we got him.
CD: Way too easy. Search the garage.
SZ: Whatever you say, sir.
CD: Monty, tell me what you think. Today's lesson.
SM: He stole it on camera, drove it down a couple of floors, then either
switched plates or vehicles. Whatever he left in, it wasn't that Ford.
CD: If he left by vehicle at all.... no, he left by car. No crowds or
bikes with that leg. Lynch is still in a car, but which fraggin one, and
where's he heading?
SZ: You were right, sir. Found it on the third floor, and the tapes are
blank. How did he do that? He's not a decker, at least not according to
his file.
SM: Program carriers. Old, crude, obsolete even, but okay for basic
systems with no IC. Remember, some of his cyber is pretty old.
SZ: Well, anyway, whatever he took, he's gone.
SM: You gotta wonder how many cars Lynch steals in a year.
CD: With all the crimes and warrents in his file, Monty, grand theft
auto's probably not what he's worried abot right now. Besides, he's SIGA,
and when you're a government agent, you don't steal. You 'commandeer' or
'requisition' or 'impound in transit'.
SM: Nope. I'll bet you lunch that Lynch says he steals them. Hell, I
keep hoping he steals my heap of junk sometime.
CD: No bet. Wait a sec, you drive an unmarked InterPol van.
SM: I know, but it handles for drek and it's got no pickup.
CD: Yeah, right. Any thoughts?
SM: I'm not gonna say 'we lost him', boss, not yet, but we're fraggin
close to that. If I were him... right now I'd be heading for somewhere
warded. Sure, a powerful enough sending can bypass a ward, but it's a
start. An Agency safehouse. Which we don't know any of.
CD: Not officially we don't. Drek. Monty, head back to HQ and start
pulling strings. Get Qoph to help. It'll keep him out of my hair while
I think. Ignore SIGA, but talk to a couple of the other UCAS outfits.
There's a couple of other people who would probably know, but I'm not
about to go to Alex and ask if his contacts would know about Lynch.
SM: AJ'd tell you where to shove your request. And maybe, with Qoph, we
can find Lynch. You really think that the other groups might know a few
SIGA boltholes?
CD: Yes. It's politics. If we have to play them off against each other
to get Lynch then that's what we do. Coppinger will be fraggin pissed
off, but too fraggin bad. It's quite possible that he'd get overruled on
this one. After all, Lynch is expendable, and the Agency is more
important than a single man.
SM: I'm on it, boss. You want the car? Chips can pick me up now he's
got his chopper back.
CD: Yeah, I do. There's something I want to check on before reporting
back to Qoph.
SM: Uh, Commander..? How about we handle this together. Get some
backup, the whole nine meters. Do it right. Wait, you're not going to,
are you? I know that look, boss. You've got a hunch you want to play
and you'll order me to get out any minute, 'cause you're gonna be the
lone hero. Just don't get yourself killed and turned into the lone
martyr, okay boss?
CD: Monty, sometimes you talk too much. And Lynch won't kill me any more
than I'll kill him. Just keep Qoph off me and you'll earn your pay for the
day.
SM: Yeah, boss. Right. Whatever you say.
+++++ He gets out, cradling a camoflage painted and customized Barret
rifle in his hands, as Drake accelerates away. +++++
CD (under breath): Ok, Jason, where the frag would you run to? Where the
frag would you go? Safehouse? No way, you're getting shot at by your
bosses and we both know that Coppinger would turn you in if he had to.
Alex's clinic? No. You'd be too worried that you'd drag him down with you,
and you also know that I still can't find the fraggin place. Hell of a coup
if you did, but that's just wishful thinking.... Come on, Paul, think....
+++++ Drake turns off the freeway, into following the signs for the
airport. +++++
CD: (still to self): You're a hotshot pilot, but you're also an attack
jockey. You get down with the grunts in the mud, not showboat over the
field like some fighter puke. Am I getting it right, Jason, thinking
your thoughts? You're under attack, but you're not the type to turn and
burn with the enemy. More of a get down in the fraggin weeds, grab some
knots, get some distance, and live to fight another day. And you're a
pilot too. Drek, that's so fraggin obvious we all nearly missed it.
Frag. Jason, I know where you are. Fraggit, I wish I didn't, but I do,
and it's time we finished this.
+++++ End Communication/Camera Download +++++ ]<<<<<
-- Trideo Pirate <00:01:57/06-28-57>
