From pyramid!oliveb!apple!rutgers!bellcore!faline!thumper!ulysses!mhuxo!mhuxu!att!ihlpa!fish Thu Feb 23 08:42:19 PST 1989 [Synopsis: Fleeing the forces of the collapsing Corporatist government, Spike is captured in Detroit, where he learns of a diabolical conspiracy to destroy the city with a suitcase-sized H-bomb, sparking an international crisis and killing the newly elected members of the Enterprise Party, who have defeated the Corporatists in the '92 elections. Spike kills the evil Ames Morgan, Secretary of Transportation and leader of the conspiracy, but not before Morgan is able to arm the Bomb, which cannot be disarmed and will go off in less than four hours. Spike's only chance to save the city and the Enterprise Party convention is to take the Bomb to the depths of the extensive salt mines which run under the city of Detroit. Under fire from CFGM Security forces, who are unaware of his deadly cargo, Spike commandeers a limousine carrying Senator Joseph Crisp, leader of the Enterprise Party, hoping to elicit his aid in disposing of the Bomb. In the year 1998, one man fought the tyranny of the automobile. Now, the fate of two cities and a Nation is in his hands... --- "... and you're sure the Bomb can't be disarmed?" "We can't afford to try. We've got less than three hours, and I have a feeling the people who built this thing won't help us much. No, Senator, the mine is our only chance. You have to help me get it there." The Senator finished bandaging my wounded shoulder. He'd been reluctant to volunteer any help at first, but I had convinced him of the urgency of the situation. I turned my attention to the limousine driver. Could he be trusted? "Your driver, Senator. Secret Service?" "Yes, but..." I held the muzzle of my MAC-10 against the driver's neck. I told him to pull the car over and struck him sharply on a well-chosen point at the base of his skull. He slumped over unconscious. I pulled his limp form into the back seat. "You'll have to drive Senator. I'm going to be busy back here. Is this heap bullet-proof?" "No, it's just an ordinary limo," the Senator replied as he took the wheel and sped off. I tied the driver's hands and then busied myself with smashing out the back window. Flashing red lights pursued from behind. "Step on it, Senator!" I implored. Several CFGM Security cars were gaining on us. I waited until they were just in range and opened up on them with the MAC-10. The lead car went out of control, creating a spectacular smash-up. Only one car came through the chaos to continue pursuit. Bullets struck the limo and I felt it swerve. I turned my head to see that Senator Crisp had been struck in the arm. It was only a scratch, but it proved that our pursuers were not overly concerned with the Senator's well-being. I took careful aim at the driver's side of the Security car and hosed the windshield. It veered crazily off the road and crashed into a utility pole. "Are you all right, Senator?" "It hurts like a bitch, but yes." "We've got to get help. The CFGM Security force is loyal to the Corporatists. They'll kill us both. Is there any one you can trust?" "Maybe. There's a mobile phone in the back seat. Give it to me." Crisp thumbed a number, spoke a few words to the person who'd answered, and turned to me. "The Coast Guard is sending up a chopper. The Base Commander and I go back a number of years." I hoped the relationship was a congenial one. Up ahead, a few miles yet from the entrance to the mine, was a massive roadblock. More grey Plymouths approached from the rear. We could not stop, and we could not turn back. I reached into my ATB's bag of tricks and readied my remaining LAWS rocket. "Put it to the floor, Senator!" I opened the door and leaned out, took careful aim at the center of the roadblock, and squeezed the trigger. The explosion blasted a hole through the roadblock, setting the vehicles ablaze and taking out most of the guards who'd awaited with pistols drawn. The limo crashed through the inferno and continued down the road towards the mine. I had to hand it to the Senator; he was a hell of a driver! A flood tide of red lights was still in pursuit. My MAC-10 was empty, and the extra mags were in the bottom of one of the panniers. I didn't have time to hunt for them. I extracted the 16-gauge sawed-off from the bike's arsenal and took aim at the center of the parade. It would not be enough. So close, dammit, so close. Another mile to the mine entrance, but we wouldn't make it. I pumped the scattergun again and again, but they kept coming. As they were almost on us, a bolt from the heavens struck in front of the lead car. The Coast Guard chopper! The Security cars scattered to the roadside and gave up pursuit as the chopper engaged them with rockets and machine guns. The way to the mine entrance was clear. More resistance no doubt awaited at the mine. That chopper was busy; I had to deal with it myself. A quarter of a mile from the mine entrance, I bade the Senator to stop the car. "Thanks for the lift, Senator. Sorry about your wheels." "I think the taxpayers can afford it. What now?" "I take the mine. You've got to get as many people as you can out of this area. The mine should contain the blast, but there will be a hell of a shock." "Good luck, Spike." "You're the one who'll need that, Senator. You've got to put this Country back together. All I've got to do is dispose of some of the last Administration's garbage, here." I patted the deadly suitcase. Its flickering blue display continued the silent, businesslike counting. 1:58:33... 1:58:32... 1:58:31 * TO BE CONTINUED * -- __ / \ Bob Fishell \__/ att!ihlpa!fish