Highway To Armageddon (2 page)

           
“We’ve been waiting for you two. You’ve been a thorn in Mr. Dominguez’s side
for quite some time now.”

           
Struggling to remain calm, I say, “So this was a trap?”

           
Max continues smiling. “But of course. I knew you would come after me. Did you
really think my apprehension would be so easy?”

           
“Is this because we captured Caesar’s son and nephew?” Krystal asks. “Because
it’s not personal, it’s just business.”

           
“I don’t think that excuse works with mobsters,” I whisper.

           
 Rubbing the back of his bruised head, Max says, “You have two options.
Commit suicide
now
, or suffer a slow, torturous death.”

           
Krystal suddenly bursts out laughing. I always knew she was mentally unstable.

           
Max scowls and brushes Krystal’s meaty hands off his tattered shirt. “Why are
you snickering? You should be trembling in fear.”

           
Still chuckling, Krystal says, “You think Lance and I are scared of a couple
scrawny orphans? I’ll blow all their heads off with…”

           
Krystal stops in mid-sentence. Her face once again turns white. I look down at
her right hand, which is patting her leg. Her utility belt is gone. I reach for
my gun and feel nothing.

           
“Looking for this?” asks one of the orphans. He holds up my utility belt. My
weapons dangle in the air.

           
“You little son of a…”

           
Krystal lunges for the orphan, which turns out to be a horrible mistake. The
orphans pounce on us like a pack of lions on a couple of injured zebras. Sharp
pain shoots across my face and stars flutter across my eyes. I fall to the ground
as dozens of bats and metal pipes pound me like a steak being tenderized. More
stabbing pain explodes throughout the rest of my body. I barely hear Krystal’s
screams over the shouts of the orphans. Then everything goes black.  

Chapter Two:
Boom-Boom

           
I smell the pervert before I hear him.

           
“Hello pretty lady, how much?”

           
I lift my goggles and glance out my car window. A dirty old man with long,
greasy hair leans against my door, staring directly at my breasts. My boobs are
covered in bullet-proof armor, but that doesn’t stop him from breathing heavy.
He smells like a mixture of whiskey, vomit, and crap. Still, he smells a lot
better than the last three guys who hit on me.

           
“Sorry dude, but I’m not a hooker. Now get off my car before I sever your
wrist.”

           
I whip out my knife and hold it over the pervert’s hand, like the dangling
dagger of Damocles. The pervert backs away, allowing me to roll up my window. I
proceed to lower my goggles back over my eyes. My vision is now tinted green. I
press a button on the side of the goggles. A quasi-transparent screen pops up,
followed by a bird’s-eye view of Lance and Krystal patrolling the busiest
breadline in Cincinnati.

           
The robotic mosquito we bought a few weeks ago is definitely worth the money we
spent on it. It allows me to search our target from the safety of my car while
Lance and Krystal do all the dirty work. Since I’m not in harm’s way I can
remain calm and collected, allowing me to give a more analytical, reasoned
assessment of any given situation. Of course, most of the time my hot-headed
partners ignore my advice and I have to swoop in at the last minute to save
their hides. Sometimes it sucks being the brains of an operation.

           
I tilt my head. The mosquito follows my movement and flies directly over the
breadline, scanning faces for Maxwell’s bio-signature. Even the people wearing
bandages and headscarves aren’t safe from my mosquito’s all-seeing eye. The
mosquito uses a combination of infra-red and x-ray vision to peek underneath
anything obscuring an individual’s face.

           
The mosquito suddenly homes in on someone. At first glance it appears to be an
elderly woman dressed in rags. But I soon realize it’s a disguise. Under all
the clothing is the man we’ve spent so much time looking for.

           
I press another button on my goggles, transferring all my intel to Lance.
There’s no sense sending it to Krystal. She’d blurt it out for the whole world
to hear. Krystal comes in handy during brawls and gunfights, but she’s not all
that great during stealth missions.  

           
I tilt my head to the left, causing the mosquito to spin around. I watch Lance
whisper something to Krystal. Maxwell grabs his loaf of bread and walks past
them. I find that odd. Someone of his criminal expertise must realize he’s
being watched. Why would he…?

           
My thoughts trail off as Maxwell takes off at a sprint. Blood rushes through my
veins as I watch Lance and Krystal chase our target through a crowded outdoor
bazaar. It’s like watching an action movie, except my friends are the stars,
and there are no retakes.

           
Someone bangs on my window. I lift my goggles and glance to my right. The
perverted old man is back, and he’s brought his crack-addict entourage. There
are two disheveled men standing behind him. Two others approach the passenger
side of the car.

           
The dirty old pervert continues to bang on my window, getting greasy streaks
all over the glass. He shouts something, but I can barely understand him. I
start the car and am about to fly off when I notice two young, frightened
prostitutes standing near the alley of a bullet-riddled pharmacy. Their massive
pimp is out on the street, talking to a ‘john’. The girls look to be around the
same age as me and my friends, 18 or so.

           
I sigh and massage my head. I can’t leave now. Those poor girls have probably
been abused for months, if not years. Just the thought of someone touching them
makes my blood boil.

           
I stop the car and roll down my window. This takes the pervert by surprise. He
steps back for a moment before thrusting his head inside the car. The sickening
stench of puke and alcohol forces me to choke down the acidic bile rising up my
throat.

           
“Playing hard to get, huh?” cackles the pervert, spraying spit all over my
face.

           
 I wipe away the droplets of spittle and curtly reply, “I’m going to give
you one last chance to get out of my sight. If you don’t, I cannot be held
responsible for---”

           
The pervert leans so far inside my car he practically falls on my lap.

           
“What are you doing?!” I cry, moving my seat back.

           
The pervert runs his grimy hands all over my gleaming dashboard.

           
“Wow, is this the new 2151 Flying Stratosphere XV?”

           
“It
was
a brand new Stratosphere XV until you got your cooties all over
it.”

           
I punch the pervert in his nose, cracking it. The pervert slides out of my car
and collapses to the pavement, clutching his face. Blood trickles between his
fingers.

           
“You bloody bitch!” the pervert howls in a nasally voice. “You broke my nose!”

           
I open my door and swing out of the car. My armored boots crush the yellow and
brown leaves covering the ground.

           
One of the other perverts rushes over and grabs a handful of my hair.

           
“I love feisty redheads,” he says with a grin, revealing his three rotted
teeth. “So how much for an hour?”

           
I kick the pervert in the groin.
Hard
. He squeals and falls to his
knees, clutching his crotch.

           
“Why don’t you use your drug and hooker money to buy some soap and take a
bath?” I deliver a roundhouse kick straight to the pervert’s left temple. He
collapses into an unmoving heap. The pervert with the broken nose staggers to
his feet and pulls out a gun.

           
“Die you stupid cow.”

           
Before I can move, the pervert pulls the trigger. The bullet ricochets off my
chest. I’m unharmed, but the impact of the blast knocks me flat on my back. I
lift my head a split second before impact so I don’t crack my skull.

           
I quickly jump to my feet. The pervert is back on the ground, clutching his
right shoulder. The shoulder is gushing blood. He must have been hit by the
deflected bullet.

           
The other three perverts whip out weapons and snarl. One of the perverts has a
knife, the other has a tire iron, and the third douche bag has a chain.

           
“We’re gonna beat you black and blue, then have our way with ya,” growls the
moron with the knife.

           
I glance around. Most of the pedestrians who, moments ago were strolling the
streets, have disappeared. That’s smart. It’s too risky to stand around and
watch an altercation on the streets. A street fight can quickly escalate into a
massacre, especially in a hellhole like Cincinnati. It also makes it easier for
me to cut loose and kick ass if I don’t have to worry about accidentally
harming civilians. The pimp and his hookers have retreated into the alley by
the pharmacy. I see them peering out from the darkness. If it’s a show they
want, it’s a show they’ll get.           

           
I crouch into a karate stance and wave my hands.

           
“Just bring it, bitches.”

           
The pervert with the knife drunkenly lunges toward me. He tries to parry me
with the knife, but he’s so hopped up on booze and drugs that he misses by a
mile. I leap into the air and deliver a dropkick square in his chest. The
pervert drops his knife and flies into the side of my Stratosphere XV. When he
slides to the ground I see that he cracked my back rear window.

           
“You prick, I just spent sixty grand on that car.”

           
I kick the pervert in the head, sending him sprawling on his side.

           
I turn back to the other two perverts. They’ve both stepped back a bit. Their
arrogant swaggers have dissipated to cowardly retreats.

           
“What are you idiots doing?” cries the first pervert who hit on me, the one
with the broken nose. “She’s only one girl! Kill her!”

           
The two armed perverts groggily stagger toward me as they attempt to frighten
me by menacingly waving their weapons in the air. I could easily take both of
them down with a few quick punches and kicks, but I don’t want to break a nail.
Instead I whip out my taser and blast the guy with the tire iron in the chest.
He drops like a rock and spazzes out on the ground as electricity pumps through
his body.

           
The pervert with the chain lunges toward me faster than I thought he would. I
barely have time to turn my head when the end of the chain whacks me across my
face. I yelp and drop my taser. The pervert hits me again, this time on the
side of my head. Stars flutter across my eyes and I drop to my knees.

           
This turns out to be a near fatal mistake. The pervert wraps his chain around
my neck and pulls back. The cold metal digs into my throat, cutting off my
oxygen. Every time I try to inhale, the chain digs in even deeper. I imagine
this is how a rat feels when it is being constricted by a python.

           
I try to stand up, but the pain is too great. I drop to my knees and lean
forward as the maniac behind me cackles. My vision becomes blurred. It feels
like there’s a ring of fire around my neck. A few more seconds and I’ll be a
goner.

           
I begin to panic. I’m not used to feeling so helpless. Out of desperation I
fumble with my utility belt. I only have one chance.  I’m bound to end up
just as hurt as my opponent, but it’s the only play I have.

           
My fingers fumble along the smoke bomb attached to my belt. I’m beginning to
lose consciousness. I only have two seconds at best. My index finger
miraculously slides inside the pin. I yank back as hard as I can.

           
My vision just starts to turn black when the chain finally, mercifully loosens.
I take a deep breath of delicious, luxurious oxygen.

           
The bliss only lasts a few seconds, unfortunately. A cloud of noxious smoke
enters my open mouth, gagging me. Tears stream down my cheeks. I cover my mouth
and stagger out into the middle of the street. A speeding car nearly clips me.
I collapse to the ground and lean against my car, on the side facing the
street. Some of the smoke reaches me, but by now I’ve gulped down enough air
that I can afford to hold my breath for the ten or so seconds it takes for the
gas to disperse. Once it does I lean against the hood of my car to survey the
damage.

           
Two of the perverts are knocked out cold. The one with the broken nose, the one
with the chain, and the one I tased are still gagging from the smoke. I run
over and deliver roundhouse kicks to all three of their skulls. None of the
perverts will be getting up for quite some time.