Syke strapped on his seat-belt, yelling at Lorry. "Go! We have a plan! It's snowball-in-hell time!"
"Alright!" Lorry stepped on the pedal and the car began to move towards the cybercat at the end of the tunnel.
"No!" yelled Syke, as he realized what Lorry was doing. "No time to help, big picture bastardry needed!" The car was moving towards the beast at high speed now and Lorry answered.
"What? No crash?"
Exasparated, Syke made a grab for the wheel. "Yes, Syke likes to wreck cars for fun! Syke's such a prankster! Damn it, turn!"
Fighting him off, Lorry steered the car from side to side in the tunnel; they were getting closer and closer to the panther beast. In the back there was a groan as their unwilling accomplice was thrown across the seat by the violence of the turn.
"Let go!"
The beast was larger than the first, its eyes easily at the height of Lorry's as the car weaved its way forward. At the last minute before impact, still fighting for the wheel, Lorry hit the headlights, full beam, blinding the beast. A quick turn on the wheel made the car ride up on the side of the tunnel, swerving away from the panther at the last minute. As they scraped by one door slammed into the giant panther, raking its side and ripping the door from the vehicle. The beast roared as the metal of the door bit into its side, thrashing around as it did to try and bite at Bo'Geo, whose legs were now dangling out the side of the car, as he clung for dear life. Lukily for the overdressed pimp the tunnel was too narrow here, the car swinging up the rounded side as it sped on, and the beast's lunge simply cracked it's head into the roof. Syke blinked. Then he eased back in his seat.
"Okay. A compromise. With bonus nausea."
Markus was yelping now, scrabbling for a hold on Bo'Geo's back as the pimp - devoid of seatbelt - floundered his way back into the rear seat. There was a white flash in the rearview mirror, and then another, both accompanied by loud bangs and the roaring of flame and beast alike. Someone had found time in the melee to molotov the sucker. Without a further thought, Lorry drove on, and the Sub was soon left far behind them.
"So what is the plan?" Lorry yelled as they made their way onto the streets again.
Syke looked back at their captive. "Well, it all started when our friendly neighbourhood scumbag pimp decided to sign up... Main point, we're robbing some robbers."
He was answered by a struggled groan; the colourful and bloodstained purveyor of all things dodgy was still attempting to regain some vague pretense of a safe seat. At least out here the road was flat. Syke found another dubious rag in the glove compartment and tossed it into the back seat.
"We're going to need you sharp pretty soon, Booger." Then Syke outlined the main gist of the ridiculous big quotes plan for Lorry's benefit.
A spat curse came from the back, followed by a more reasoned response. "No chance of talking you crazies outta this, is there?"
"Look, Boges. Without even bringing Thumper here into the equation..." Syke grinned broadly at the bruised man. "Figure the Panthers don't much care if you heroically backstab their enemies at the right opportunity. We've got shit for odds, but they're all you get. Fucking deal with it."
"Yeah, looks like," he grumbled. "You fruits ever been out into Feral country before? Please say you 'ave..."
Syke slowly turned his head back towards the road, then he nodded. "Sure. Lovely place to visit."
"The locals are hell. Lets just 'ope the screamin' engine keeps them back, eh?"
"Are we robbing ferals" Lorry asked.
Bo'Geo barked a wry laugh from his back seat position. "You'd really have sunk low if so, boyo"
Syke kept staring ahead. "We'll scare off the sheep, maybe some of the wolves..." He trailed off, meaningful ellipses dangling.
The fence shrugged audibly. "They're the least of our worries anyhow if you gonna pull off this hare-brained scheme."
"What are our worries then?" Lorry, again.
"So," Bogie continued, resigned. "I can get you to the place... I'm glad you asked. Or not." With a cough the pimp laid aside the rag and shifted further away from Markus. Snapping out of his reverie, Syke snorted.
"Volunteering information. Get used to the experience, recruit."
Lorry looked into the rear mirror. Fixing his eyes on Bo'Geo he said in a low voice "I'm sorry for the kicking."
With a wince as his eyes met Lorry's in the mirror, Bo'Geo began "the jackers are gonna be Corps. At least a car-full. The targets are suits, right? Simple supply convoy; 2 cars, one van. Figure there'll be some sort of surprise, force the convoy off the road, an' probly separate them. Almost certain to be a kill run, so you boys better have an inkling how to deal with guns..." He trailed off. "You are packing, right?"
A grimace from Syke. "I usually just pack... him. And my delightful personality."
"Well then, lets 'ope your personality ain't lost on Uptown squares then, eh?" With derisory snort punctuated his remark Bo'Geo sagged in the seat, looking thoroughly miserable.
Lorry looked over at Syke, "Most weapons are point-n-shoot, right?"
"Yeah?"
The silence from the back was ominous as the car clicked over the broken road. The last buildings had been passed a block or so ago, and this here was truely the Feral Zone. At least the rain had died. After waiting patiently for Lorry to reach his point, graciously assuming there was one, Syke looked back at Bo'Geo.
"Could try throwing your shirt at 'em. That'd stun a hilariously miscloned velociraptor."
Lorry gazed over the open landscape. "This car will not get up to the same speed as a new Corp's car I'm afraid. And with this open land they can just outrun us."
Syke nodded. "Alright, it's theoretically fucking impossible. Let's exploit our old friend Murphy, then."
Lorry gave his first smile of the day, maybe even of the week, and laughed slightly.
"Who the hell was 'e then," Bogie's question was dirgelike. "Some great 'ero?"
Despite himself, Syke joined in the laughing. "Yeah. Murphy's the shit that always happens. This time... we'll just watch and wait for it to happen to someone else."
"Best I've heard yet. No point in planning yer own death."
Syke turned to look at Lorry. "You want a new car, you twisted vehicle-humper you?"
Looking round at Syke, Lorry answered "what do you think?" He pointed at the missing door.
The smaller enforcer grinned the smuggest grin yet. "Even a complete fucking lack of a plan is a plan."
Their passenger laughed aloud. "Yeah, that'd go down great. Driving Corpmobiles around gangland. And you think me conspicuous!" Despite his aches and beaten down face, Bo'Geo was mirthful. "Y'know - you two are both as fucked up as each other."
Syke started rummaging through his pockets. "Oh, shut up. Have some stims. No rest for the Dogs of Zen." He popped a couple of pills and cheerfully threw the rest of the into the backseat. Right at Markus.
"Nah. Don't touch the gear myself. Couldn't flog it then." An evil grin smeared across the ugly, puffy face as the dog with whom Bo'Geo shared the seat bent to snatch the drugs.
"Suit yoursel- actually, don't."
"Eh?"
Syke rolled his eyes. "Well, we are going stealth here, Mister Floodlight. I'm sure there's some dogshit back there for you to roll in. Anyway, I guess we'll need to dump the car somewhere, hike it to the spot and then-"
"Hide?" Lorry queried. "You know, we don't need to dump this car. It looks right at home here." Lorry continued.
"Whuh?" blurted Syke, his train of thought seriously off-track.
"I mean, just look at it! Crashed front, broken windows, a door missing and the side is all wrecked! As you said Syke, Murphy's our friend here." Lorry smiled at his partner.
The smaller enforcer just blinked. Then he gaped. "Okay, alright, whatever fucking brain-boosting shit you're on, Dumptruck, you gotta start sharing the shit. You're... " He stopped and looked at the state of their current vehicle.
Lorry nodded. "Yeah, that's right. We'll hide with the car, in plain sight."
"... yeah. Hell yeah. We're cunningly disguised as a piece of crap. There is a Dog."
"Yeah, and he's fuckin' slavering all over me due to them stims. Bastard mutt!" Bo'Geo swatted ineffectually at Markus, trying to keep doggie saliva from him.
"Why do you find friends like this Markus?" Lorry looked back at his dog in the mirror.
"Better you than me," laughed Syke, as the car rattled on towards the meeting with Murphy.
They ploughed on over the heathland at a fair clip for another ten minutes or so. It was pushing six a.m. now, and the murky first light of day was beginning to dawn. Bo'Geo had been straining this last portion of the ride to hold Markus out of the missing door, the dog getting seriously frisky as the stims took full effect. As he did, he regailed precise locations, guiding the Enforcers to a spot not too far from the intersprawl highway. Lorry shut off the engine, and the car ghosted to a stop, coming to rest up against a dumped sofa. The area was a junk yard of discarded Uptown home appliances, providing plenty of cover. In fact, glancing about, the junk could almost have been positioned as it was, it was almost too perfect. Their guide having assured them this was the place, the three settled down to wait. Markus was jumpy as hell, though. Syke himself was approaching limbo, hissing at Lorry to leash the useless junkie mutt.
"Fine.", Lorry muttered, "I better hold on to him." The big enforcer grabbed his dog from the back seat.
"Where d'you want me, then? Don't string me out on this." Bo'Geo was anxious.
"Just wait for my word," Syke snapped, "and - sheeesh, didn't we talk about the clothes?" Without waiting for a reply, Syke grabbed a rusting thermos flask and unceremoniously dumped its contents all over Bo'Geo. Job done, he sniffed at the empty thermos. "What'd you keep in here anyway, Semi?"
"What the..." the shout of alarm was full of rage, subsiding a little when he realised the coffee was age old and cold. "Well it ain't as if this suit weren't down the shitter already, but damn! That was growing stuff." Syke just shrugged and looked at the struggling dog-keeper.
His partner answered, "Just my special mix, does good for both engines." Lorry patted his stomach. "I guess I forgot it there though."
Bo'Geo rolled out of the car onto the turf, trying to lose the fungal smell of age-old mold. As he rolled and came up, his face was ashen.
"They're comin'" he said, pointing to the three vehicles visible on the roadway.
"Lovely. Okay, quiet. Heads down."
Lorry grabbed Markus in his knee and tried to hide as best as he could. Some five hundred yards away a large van, flanked by two sleek black cars, was progressing at pace. No other traffic could be seen, though cresting the horizon, from the direction in which the convoy was heading, there was a large 'copter. Hanging beneath it, held on a long chain, was another, almost identical, sleek black car. The side of the bird was open, a minigun clearly mounted on the side. As the heilcopter sped towards convoy, it lowered, so the car dangling from its belly was barely of the road. A loud crunching noise signalled the release of the winch, and the car dropped the couple of feet to the road. Wheels already spinning, it lurched forwards immediately. The pilot, meanwhile, had spun the bird around and the gunner was opening up on the convoy, quickly turning the front car into nothing but a ball of flame. Predictably, and almost as if to a plan, the van driver swerved, th rear car following. The target van swerved off the road, towards where the Enforcers and Bo'Geo were hidden. Swerved through the maze of junk piled to either side of what was clearly now a constructed junk chicane...
"Yeah, that's 'some kind of surprise'," Syke mouted at Bo'Geo, then - to no-one in particular - "Now what?"
The car that had dropped from the bird was speeding off the road now too, heading the opposite way through the appliance chicane, at a speed that boggled the mind. Whomever was driving knew exactly what the hell he was doing. The air support hoverred overhead, spinning around to allow the gunner to get a fix on the other car, and quickly riddling it with more metal than Nikel's jaw. Figures spilled out as the shots rained down, some clearly bleeding, diving clear before the car soon went up in smoke just like the other had. Caught in the maze of junked appliances and with it's burnt-out support now trapping it in place the driver of the van slowed to a stop, and the doors sprung open. Overhead the 'copter was retreating, its part in the jacking done and dusted. The car it had dropped cruised on, keeping its speed, as its windows glided down and black-shaded faces leant out brandishing automatic weapons.
Syke looked up from his spot behind the CrapMobile. "If Murphy doesn't show up soon, I'm stealing his fucking girlfriend." Quietly, he got back into the car and took the wheel. Then he sat there, slowly drumming his fingers, breathing in, breathing out. The now much-stained Bo'Geo rolled clear of the car. Crouching, he signalled that he would skulk up as close as possible, scouting, earning him a distracted thumbs-up from Syke, who then resumed his waiting for the moment. The third man at the CrapMobile was sitting there with Markus in his knee, just waiting and watching Bo'Geo go.
Muzzle flashes lit up the pre-dawn as the embattled drivers fended off their assailants. The smell of burning leather and fuel was drifting over the scene, a gentle wind blowing the fumes from the second wreck towards the Enforcer's battered car. The coprs had closed right in, now, and it was clear their car had been rebounding bullets galore. The windscreen was cracked, paint scraped, but it was still moving; engine still purring like a kitten. As it closed on the van, the driver pulled a handbrake turn, sending the car perpendicular to the van. It skidded and slid sideways, three figures tumbling out of the shielded side, car between them and their target. After a momentary pause, the figures crouched and took careful aim.
In the enforcers' battered vehicle, Syke slapped his own forehead.
"What am I thinking? Screw the moment."
He gestured for Lorry, pointing at the aiming figures' backs. Then he grinned, and saluted with car-keys in hand. Inserted the keys. Raised an eyebrow. The big man nodded and began to sneak his best towards the figures, nodding at Bo'Geo as he went.
A dying scream punctured the air as one of the attackers shot true. Their car had now spun back parallel to the object van and the driver was gunning the engine again, zooming over to where the wreck of the escort had been. Bogie had made it in close, even his white suit was perfect camoflage against the old clapped out fridges. The engine screamed, as Syke kicked the car into gear, a creaking blur of acceleration closing rapidly on the van and its defenders. There were a couple of Wet thuds as bodies slammed into the front, one landing on the windshield. Syke careened on blindly, the tires filing complaints in triplicate. The car's ancient music device - sensing a final moment coming on - kicked in, blaring out harmonies from another world. As Syke announced his presence Lorry stood up and ran towards the nearest of the figures, punching him hard in the face and knocking him out in one blow. His two companions turned at the sickening sound, one taking a round from somewhere and spilling his weapon as he collapsed, the other raising his gun with stoney face.
There were guitars on the air. Echoing voices crooning. "You're a headache / iiiin a suitcase / you're a staaaaar / Hooold me / thrill me / kiss meeeee-" And with a very final thump, the enforcermobile skidded into the wall of junk, just past the van. There was the plinking of random metal parts coming to rest.
Markus had been let loose and he leaped up at the last minute, biting at the gunman's arm, making him drop his weapon. The bitten man answered with a snarl and as Markus hung on to his right arm his left hand went for a shoulder holster...
Syke rolled to his feet, brandishing a torch and tune that wouldn't go away. He turned, looking for the closest enemy. Then he charged, all scrawny twelve pounds of him. "Don't know what you're doooooing / babe, it must be arrrrrrt!"
"Alright!" Lorry stepped on the pedal and the car began to move towards the cybercat at the end of the tunnel.
"No!" yelled Syke, as he realized what Lorry was doing. "No time to help, big picture bastardry needed!" The car was moving towards the beast at high speed now and Lorry answered.
"What? No crash?"
Exasparated, Syke made a grab for the wheel. "Yes, Syke likes to wreck cars for fun! Syke's such a prankster! Damn it, turn!"
Fighting him off, Lorry steered the car from side to side in the tunnel; they were getting closer and closer to the panther beast. In the back there was a groan as their unwilling accomplice was thrown across the seat by the violence of the turn.
"Let go!"
The beast was larger than the first, its eyes easily at the height of Lorry's as the car weaved its way forward. At the last minute before impact, still fighting for the wheel, Lorry hit the headlights, full beam, blinding the beast. A quick turn on the wheel made the car ride up on the side of the tunnel, swerving away from the panther at the last minute. As they scraped by one door slammed into the giant panther, raking its side and ripping the door from the vehicle. The beast roared as the metal of the door bit into its side, thrashing around as it did to try and bite at Bo'Geo, whose legs were now dangling out the side of the car, as he clung for dear life. Lukily for the overdressed pimp the tunnel was too narrow here, the car swinging up the rounded side as it sped on, and the beast's lunge simply cracked it's head into the roof. Syke blinked. Then he eased back in his seat.
"Okay. A compromise. With bonus nausea."
Markus was yelping now, scrabbling for a hold on Bo'Geo's back as the pimp - devoid of seatbelt - floundered his way back into the rear seat. There was a white flash in the rearview mirror, and then another, both accompanied by loud bangs and the roaring of flame and beast alike. Someone had found time in the melee to molotov the sucker. Without a further thought, Lorry drove on, and the Sub was soon left far behind them.
* * *
"So what is the plan?" Lorry yelled as they made their way onto the streets again.
Syke looked back at their captive. "Well, it all started when our friendly neighbourhood scumbag pimp decided to sign up... Main point, we're robbing some robbers."
He was answered by a struggled groan; the colourful and bloodstained purveyor of all things dodgy was still attempting to regain some vague pretense of a safe seat. At least out here the road was flat. Syke found another dubious rag in the glove compartment and tossed it into the back seat.
"We're going to need you sharp pretty soon, Booger." Then Syke outlined the main gist of the ridiculous big quotes plan for Lorry's benefit.
A spat curse came from the back, followed by a more reasoned response. "No chance of talking you crazies outta this, is there?"
"Look, Boges. Without even bringing Thumper here into the equation..." Syke grinned broadly at the bruised man. "Figure the Panthers don't much care if you heroically backstab their enemies at the right opportunity. We've got shit for odds, but they're all you get. Fucking deal with it."
"Yeah, looks like," he grumbled. "You fruits ever been out into Feral country before? Please say you 'ave..."
Syke slowly turned his head back towards the road, then he nodded. "Sure. Lovely place to visit."
"The locals are hell. Lets just 'ope the screamin' engine keeps them back, eh?"
"Are we robbing ferals" Lorry asked.
Bo'Geo barked a wry laugh from his back seat position. "You'd really have sunk low if so, boyo"
Syke kept staring ahead. "We'll scare off the sheep, maybe some of the wolves..." He trailed off, meaningful ellipses dangling.
The fence shrugged audibly. "They're the least of our worries anyhow if you gonna pull off this hare-brained scheme."
"What are our worries then?" Lorry, again.
"So," Bogie continued, resigned. "I can get you to the place... I'm glad you asked. Or not." With a cough the pimp laid aside the rag and shifted further away from Markus. Snapping out of his reverie, Syke snorted.
"Volunteering information. Get used to the experience, recruit."
Lorry looked into the rear mirror. Fixing his eyes on Bo'Geo he said in a low voice "I'm sorry for the kicking."
With a wince as his eyes met Lorry's in the mirror, Bo'Geo began "the jackers are gonna be Corps. At least a car-full. The targets are suits, right? Simple supply convoy; 2 cars, one van. Figure there'll be some sort of surprise, force the convoy off the road, an' probly separate them. Almost certain to be a kill run, so you boys better have an inkling how to deal with guns..." He trailed off. "You are packing, right?"
A grimace from Syke. "I usually just pack... him. And my delightful personality."
"Well then, lets 'ope your personality ain't lost on Uptown squares then, eh?" With derisory snort punctuated his remark Bo'Geo sagged in the seat, looking thoroughly miserable.
Lorry looked over at Syke, "Most weapons are point-n-shoot, right?"
"Yeah?"
The silence from the back was ominous as the car clicked over the broken road. The last buildings had been passed a block or so ago, and this here was truely the Feral Zone. At least the rain had died. After waiting patiently for Lorry to reach his point, graciously assuming there was one, Syke looked back at Bo'Geo.
"Could try throwing your shirt at 'em. That'd stun a hilariously miscloned velociraptor."
Lorry gazed over the open landscape. "This car will not get up to the same speed as a new Corp's car I'm afraid. And with this open land they can just outrun us."
Syke nodded. "Alright, it's theoretically fucking impossible. Let's exploit our old friend Murphy, then."
Lorry gave his first smile of the day, maybe even of the week, and laughed slightly.
"Who the hell was 'e then," Bogie's question was dirgelike. "Some great 'ero?"
Despite himself, Syke joined in the laughing. "Yeah. Murphy's the shit that always happens. This time... we'll just watch and wait for it to happen to someone else."
"Best I've heard yet. No point in planning yer own death."
Syke turned to look at Lorry. "You want a new car, you twisted vehicle-humper you?"
Looking round at Syke, Lorry answered "what do you think?" He pointed at the missing door.
The smaller enforcer grinned the smuggest grin yet. "Even a complete fucking lack of a plan is a plan."
Their passenger laughed aloud. "Yeah, that'd go down great. Driving Corpmobiles around gangland. And you think me conspicuous!" Despite his aches and beaten down face, Bo'Geo was mirthful. "Y'know - you two are both as fucked up as each other."
Syke started rummaging through his pockets. "Oh, shut up. Have some stims. No rest for the Dogs of Zen." He popped a couple of pills and cheerfully threw the rest of the into the backseat. Right at Markus.
"Nah. Don't touch the gear myself. Couldn't flog it then." An evil grin smeared across the ugly, puffy face as the dog with whom Bo'Geo shared the seat bent to snatch the drugs.
"Suit yoursel- actually, don't."
"Eh?"
Syke rolled his eyes. "Well, we are going stealth here, Mister Floodlight. I'm sure there's some dogshit back there for you to roll in. Anyway, I guess we'll need to dump the car somewhere, hike it to the spot and then-"
"Hide?" Lorry queried. "You know, we don't need to dump this car. It looks right at home here." Lorry continued.
"Whuh?" blurted Syke, his train of thought seriously off-track.
"I mean, just look at it! Crashed front, broken windows, a door missing and the side is all wrecked! As you said Syke, Murphy's our friend here." Lorry smiled at his partner.
The smaller enforcer just blinked. Then he gaped. "Okay, alright, whatever fucking brain-boosting shit you're on, Dumptruck, you gotta start sharing the shit. You're... " He stopped and looked at the state of their current vehicle.
Lorry nodded. "Yeah, that's right. We'll hide with the car, in plain sight."
"... yeah. Hell yeah. We're cunningly disguised as a piece of crap. There is a Dog."
"Yeah, and he's fuckin' slavering all over me due to them stims. Bastard mutt!" Bo'Geo swatted ineffectually at Markus, trying to keep doggie saliva from him.
"Why do you find friends like this Markus?" Lorry looked back at his dog in the mirror.
"Better you than me," laughed Syke, as the car rattled on towards the meeting with Murphy.
* * *
They ploughed on over the heathland at a fair clip for another ten minutes or so. It was pushing six a.m. now, and the murky first light of day was beginning to dawn. Bo'Geo had been straining this last portion of the ride to hold Markus out of the missing door, the dog getting seriously frisky as the stims took full effect. As he did, he regailed precise locations, guiding the Enforcers to a spot not too far from the intersprawl highway. Lorry shut off the engine, and the car ghosted to a stop, coming to rest up against a dumped sofa. The area was a junk yard of discarded Uptown home appliances, providing plenty of cover. In fact, glancing about, the junk could almost have been positioned as it was, it was almost too perfect. Their guide having assured them this was the place, the three settled down to wait. Markus was jumpy as hell, though. Syke himself was approaching limbo, hissing at Lorry to leash the useless junkie mutt.
"Fine.", Lorry muttered, "I better hold on to him." The big enforcer grabbed his dog from the back seat.
"Where d'you want me, then? Don't string me out on this." Bo'Geo was anxious.
"Just wait for my word," Syke snapped, "and - sheeesh, didn't we talk about the clothes?" Without waiting for a reply, Syke grabbed a rusting thermos flask and unceremoniously dumped its contents all over Bo'Geo. Job done, he sniffed at the empty thermos. "What'd you keep in here anyway, Semi?"
"What the..." the shout of alarm was full of rage, subsiding a little when he realised the coffee was age old and cold. "Well it ain't as if this suit weren't down the shitter already, but damn! That was growing stuff." Syke just shrugged and looked at the struggling dog-keeper.
His partner answered, "Just my special mix, does good for both engines." Lorry patted his stomach. "I guess I forgot it there though."
Bo'Geo rolled out of the car onto the turf, trying to lose the fungal smell of age-old mold. As he rolled and came up, his face was ashen.
"They're comin'" he said, pointing to the three vehicles visible on the roadway.
"Lovely. Okay, quiet. Heads down."
Lorry grabbed Markus in his knee and tried to hide as best as he could. Some five hundred yards away a large van, flanked by two sleek black cars, was progressing at pace. No other traffic could be seen, though cresting the horizon, from the direction in which the convoy was heading, there was a large 'copter. Hanging beneath it, held on a long chain, was another, almost identical, sleek black car. The side of the bird was open, a minigun clearly mounted on the side. As the heilcopter sped towards convoy, it lowered, so the car dangling from its belly was barely of the road. A loud crunching noise signalled the release of the winch, and the car dropped the couple of feet to the road. Wheels already spinning, it lurched forwards immediately. The pilot, meanwhile, had spun the bird around and the gunner was opening up on the convoy, quickly turning the front car into nothing but a ball of flame. Predictably, and almost as if to a plan, the van driver swerved, th rear car following. The target van swerved off the road, towards where the Enforcers and Bo'Geo were hidden. Swerved through the maze of junk piled to either side of what was clearly now a constructed junk chicane...
"Yeah, that's 'some kind of surprise'," Syke mouted at Bo'Geo, then - to no-one in particular - "Now what?"
The car that had dropped from the bird was speeding off the road now too, heading the opposite way through the appliance chicane, at a speed that boggled the mind. Whomever was driving knew exactly what the hell he was doing. The air support hoverred overhead, spinning around to allow the gunner to get a fix on the other car, and quickly riddling it with more metal than Nikel's jaw. Figures spilled out as the shots rained down, some clearly bleeding, diving clear before the car soon went up in smoke just like the other had. Caught in the maze of junked appliances and with it's burnt-out support now trapping it in place the driver of the van slowed to a stop, and the doors sprung open. Overhead the 'copter was retreating, its part in the jacking done and dusted. The car it had dropped cruised on, keeping its speed, as its windows glided down and black-shaded faces leant out brandishing automatic weapons.
Syke looked up from his spot behind the CrapMobile. "If Murphy doesn't show up soon, I'm stealing his fucking girlfriend." Quietly, he got back into the car and took the wheel. Then he sat there, slowly drumming his fingers, breathing in, breathing out. The now much-stained Bo'Geo rolled clear of the car. Crouching, he signalled that he would skulk up as close as possible, scouting, earning him a distracted thumbs-up from Syke, who then resumed his waiting for the moment. The third man at the CrapMobile was sitting there with Markus in his knee, just waiting and watching Bo'Geo go.
Muzzle flashes lit up the pre-dawn as the embattled drivers fended off their assailants. The smell of burning leather and fuel was drifting over the scene, a gentle wind blowing the fumes from the second wreck towards the Enforcer's battered car. The coprs had closed right in, now, and it was clear their car had been rebounding bullets galore. The windscreen was cracked, paint scraped, but it was still moving; engine still purring like a kitten. As it closed on the van, the driver pulled a handbrake turn, sending the car perpendicular to the van. It skidded and slid sideways, three figures tumbling out of the shielded side, car between them and their target. After a momentary pause, the figures crouched and took careful aim.
In the enforcers' battered vehicle, Syke slapped his own forehead.
"What am I thinking? Screw the moment."
He gestured for Lorry, pointing at the aiming figures' backs. Then he grinned, and saluted with car-keys in hand. Inserted the keys. Raised an eyebrow. The big man nodded and began to sneak his best towards the figures, nodding at Bo'Geo as he went.
A dying scream punctured the air as one of the attackers shot true. Their car had now spun back parallel to the object van and the driver was gunning the engine again, zooming over to where the wreck of the escort had been. Bogie had made it in close, even his white suit was perfect camoflage against the old clapped out fridges. The engine screamed, as Syke kicked the car into gear, a creaking blur of acceleration closing rapidly on the van and its defenders. There were a couple of Wet thuds as bodies slammed into the front, one landing on the windshield. Syke careened on blindly, the tires filing complaints in triplicate. The car's ancient music device - sensing a final moment coming on - kicked in, blaring out harmonies from another world. As Syke announced his presence Lorry stood up and ran towards the nearest of the figures, punching him hard in the face and knocking him out in one blow. His two companions turned at the sickening sound, one taking a round from somewhere and spilling his weapon as he collapsed, the other raising his gun with stoney face.
There were guitars on the air. Echoing voices crooning. "You're a headache / iiiin a suitcase / you're a staaaaar / Hooold me / thrill me / kiss meeeee-" And with a very final thump, the enforcermobile skidded into the wall of junk, just past the van. There was the plinking of random metal parts coming to rest.
Markus had been let loose and he leaped up at the last minute, biting at the gunman's arm, making him drop his weapon. The bitten man answered with a snarl and as Markus hung on to his right arm his left hand went for a shoulder holster...
Syke rolled to his feet, brandishing a torch and tune that wouldn't go away. He turned, looking for the closest enemy. Then he charged, all scrawny twelve pounds of him. "Don't know what you're doooooing / babe, it must be arrrrrrt!"
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