Viper

MouseHunt

Metro City glowed in the darkness, a megacity standing proudly in the hostile world. Ironically, it was a funny name for the city. Metro meant big, but Metro City wasn’t exactly big. It also meant an underground subway station, short form for Metropolitan, now that made sense, for what we were to discuss is a lot about an underground railway station, an abandoned one. Though Metro City wasn’t big, it is one of the most complete ones around, complete with its own essential life support facilities, airports, seaports, and a whole lot of features.

One outstanding factor was Metro City’s administrative side. Metro houses a very special governing system. Mayorship was abolished years ago. Since then, the Federal Government lodged itself firmly into place in Metro. Retrospectively, it was actually a move to solidify Federal Governmentship in this little City that was on the verge of dispatching itself from the United States. And the government’s only visible symbol of power in Metro, the Federal Government Building.

That was the visible symbol. The less explicit factors ranged from liaisons to MetroPol (the local police department), to Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) street agents roaming the streets that hardly ever see crime, at least that’s in the FBI’s opinion. The only missing factor, the extremely implicit factor of the Federal Authority’s welding power in Metro City, a team of 6, 4 men and 2 machines and their chief. That, we shall discuss later.

The Federal Government Building stood a full 60-storeys tall, looming over most skyscrapers around it. In the day, it was the grand symbol of authority, taking on subjects both political and criminal head on. But at night, it was a quiet joke, literally. A 60-storey tall tower of almost complete darkness. Well, officers need to take breaks too. In fact, it was so dark that the only signs to outline it were flashing red lights on the top of the buildings. Hazard lights, so that flying objects did not crash into it. Given the situation, they were necessities.

If anyone cared the notice, every night, one light, on the 37^th level, would always be on. It belonged to the Criminal Investigation Division (CID). FBI belonged to the 1^st 20 levels, CID took the next 20 and the political side belonged to the top 20. But the 6^th office of the 37^th level housed something more than just CID, the SPD: Special Projects Division. Just one division in an office, it did not need any extra space, because it had more than enough space somewhere else, somewhere we shall also discuss later.

This early night, 3 men instead of one sat in that office. One in suit sat behind the big desk. The chief, he had the image. His name’s Jacob Langley Griffin, or in short, Jack Griffin, a street hoodlum who climbed the ladder of power into his present respectable position today. He definitely deserved each and every bit of credit to his name.

Spread out comfortably on the sofa in front of the desk were two men, one visibly older Caucasian and a much younger Asian/Chinese. Both were males. The Caucasian was in his early 40s. He wore an old worn-out brown flight jacket. It was a very sparring image he projected, but he also projected leadership and charisma. Despite his sort of messy hair lazily center-parted, he still had an organised look on him. A leader by glance. His name: Thomas Cole, the unrecognised legend in the history of crime fighting. A veteran officer tied down to everything, MetroPol, CIA, FBI, InterPol, and most importantly, the SPD. The only reason he was unrecognised was his position as special agent, but that would be solved once he retires.

To his left, equally relaxed, in fact, even more relaxed, the Asian/Chinese in his mid-20s. He looked a lot neater, with combed hair, a suit-like dark-blue pullover, and a whole lot of charisma. He was not a leader, but very much the type that would take lead when the need arose. A lethal weapon complete with sniper-eyes known only as Bruce. This was someone even the director of the FBI would not want to mess with, not because he behaved violently, but because of the air of authority surrounding him.

The threesome joked happily. Jack started talking.

"And, oh yeah. I’m leaving office in a few minutes. Early break today. If there’s anything, I’ve redirected my mailbox to Mason’s. Trust him, he is our liaison to MetroPol," Jack told the two.

"What’s the occasion?" Bruce asked.

"I’m finally meeting with Catherine’s father," Jack replied with pride.

"Catherine who?" Cole asked stupidly. A joke, they all knew who Cat was.

"Catherine Griffin, my wife, mind you," Jack stated sarcastically.

"Oooooh," Bruce and Cole mocked. Jack continued,

"He doesn’t like me, now’s my chance to do good, patch up. I’m gonna make a good impression by being early and tidy and looking good."

"Best of luck. Why doesn’t he like you?" Bruce was curious.

"Well, before I sat here commanding you guys, I was a nothing, a good for nothing, and a street hoodlum all in one. I met Catherine the up-town girl. Boy, her father was rich, and he’s still rich. I turned over a new leaf, but her dad still didn’t like me, even after all this years, now’s my chance," Jack was lost in his own story. Bruce brought him back,

"What’s his name?"

"Dickinson Lawson," Jack replied matter-of-factly. Bruce started nodding in the following silence in comprehension.

" So why don’t you take Bruce’s car?" Cole broke the silence.

"My car?" Bruce was wide-mouthed in surprise.

"Yeah, it makes a good impression, doesn’t it?" Cole laughed. Bruce stared at Cole for a few seconds, then smiled.

" Okay take mine, while Cole will look for a new Viper2 for you, Jack. Our token of appreciation, ON him," Bruce offered and pointed at Cole. Cole’s jaw dropped abruptly.

"You sure?" Jack asked, holding back his laughter. That was the typical Bruce. You hit him he hits you back double.

"Take it, on me," Bruce confirmed and handed his car remote key chain to Jack.

"Have a nice time," Bruce wished, and turned to leave with Cole. Jack called after them,

"Hey! Remember to work on the drug cartel." The duo turned and acknowledged simultaneously, then left.

Jack looked at the remote control in his right palm. He smiled. Talk about repayment of kindness. Sometimes Jack just loved to work for these guys, the team. They were now more then just colleagues, they were a family, and these people were the most grateful he ever knew.

The horns blared as the big machine came to a halt outside Metro Street 23 No. 10: Jack’s isolated bungalow. A beautiful pregnant lady dressed all in white emerged from behind the front door. She looked puzzled. It was her husband in the car, but it wasn’t their car.

Catherine Lawson Griffin cut across the big piece of sloping grass in front of their house to the gleaming piece of red menace in the night. Jack reached over and opened the passenger door for her.

"Jack, we don’t own one of this," Catherine, or Cat, told her husband.

"I got it from Bruce. He volunteered, while Cole will be looking for one for me," Jack explained effortlessly. There was no need for voice projection; the engine whine was almost inaudible! But between Jack and Cat, only Jack knew the secret this piece of red beauty held. This was one of the two machines mentioned earlier on. When danger arose, it would be there to fight crime. For now, it was only an entertainment machine.

"Hop in, I’m going to make a good impression," Jack boasted as he adjusted his tie. Cat complied happily. Once in the car, Jack eased the throttle back, well, it was the gear actually, but the vehicle’s awesome power curve makes "throttle" a better word. The vehicle raced off into the amber streetlights, into the future yet to be unveiled.

It was something like a 6 billion dollar mention with no rooms but only a gigantic hall, a big concealed car park, a big mainframe computer, two vehicle multiple rejuvenating platforms, one human multiple rejuvenation chamber, and a holochamber. It’s located far away in the outskirts of Metro City, underground, and linked anywhere it wants to go by tunnels above and below ground. Sounds enticing actually.

It had a name: Viper Complex. It’s the home/base of the Viper Team consisting of 4 men and 2 cars, the Dodge Viper RT/10 Roadster and the Viper2. It was a secret government project set up years ago, but tore down later, yet only to by restored again in the recent years. The entire Complex was built on an abandoned subway station in the outskirts of Metro City. The Complex had since its very first years when Julian Wilkes and Joe Astor were in charge, grown into a huge Complex twice its original size, billions of times more advance, but instantly recognisable as the Viper Complex.

The Complex was painted overall pink and red. Under the given lighting, it glowed red. 4 men converged in front of the super-multi-purpose gigantic mainframe computer. A heavily mustached guy in his mid-40s held a piece of printout, reading. His name was Franklin Xavier Waters, or Frankie Waters, or just Frankie. He was the veteran in the team, the man who lasted through the change of hands of the Vipers. He was around since Julian Wilkes’ time, and he was still here. His was the mechanic, the official one for the Viper Team, perhaps the best one around. Though his job was to make the Viper function optimally, he also helped out in the investigations and sometimes even joined the two field agents Bruce and Cole for a little adventure.

Another man, an Asian/Chinese as well, much younger, in fact he was Bruce’s peer, retrieved another fresh printout and proceeded to read it. He was Adrian, the Viper team’s main computer man. Not too long ago, he and Bruce were transferred to the States from their home country (not China) to work on a case. But it ended up in their discovering of the Viper Project, and the two Asians restored the project. They reactivated the in-hibernation Thomas Cole and Frankie Waters back to the team as leader/mentor and mechanic/mentor respectively. Bruce went a step further to put Jack Griffin in the office in charge of the new Team. And the new Viper Team was formed. Ever since then, the team had stuck together through the thickest and the thinnest, and did the impossible many times through. With Adrian the computer whiz and Frankie the experienced mechanic, there was nothing material they could not handle. And with Bruce the fresh young gun known for his last minute innovations and Cole the cool-headed mentor, there was nothing criminal they could not take on. And with the team together working as a team, Metro City’s criminal factor is outrun and outgunned.

But for now, the team was having a little rest and discussing their current case together.

"A revenue of a trillion a year, where does his cartel get its tax payers from?" Frankie commented.

"Apparently all the personnel involved in the drug cartel paid zero taxes. Where’s the link?" Adrian marvelled and directed the question to no one in particular.

"Joblessness," Cole suddenly said.

"What?" Adrian and Frankie asked simultaneously.

"Yeah. Whoever financed this cartel is rich as Hell. All he has to do is list his subordinates as jobless, and then they don’t have to pay taxes. He pays them, but given no taxation, the loss is minimised, and the amount he rips in is more than he gives away. If we’re talking about a very successful drug syndicate, then trillions are just about the right picture," Cole explained.

"So, and bright ideas who is behind this thing?" Bruce finally spoke up.

"Someone very very rich," Frankie answered almost immediately, lost in his dream of wealth once again.

"So you mean we do a check on the richest non-tax payers around? For all we know, this person may not even be in Metro. He may even be listed as bankrupt!" Adrian stated the possibilities.

"But we do know he’s getting money constantly. I’ll follow Cole’s hunch. Adrian, tie the mainframe down to tracking large amounts of currency exchange and account transfers merging at as small a number of accounts as possible in the whole United States. Put the tracking base a minimum of $1 trillion per annum. It’s worth a shot," Bruce ordered.

"Okay," Adrian acknowledged and spun around in his rotating chair to face the mainframe, then promptly submerged himself into what he does best, messing with computers. Frankie spoke suddenly,

"You know guys, I felt something wrong when you guys drove in just now, I finally pinned it down."

"What?" Cole asked, surprised at the sudden abrupt burst of a question. He was put on alert immediately. Even Bruce tensed up a bit.

"Where’s the other Viper?" Frankie asked matter-of-factly. There was an almost immediate release in the tension as Cole sighed and turned away and Bruce rolled his eyeballs up in a sighing gesture.

"Great observation, Frankie," Bruce spoke finally.

The redness pulled into the parking lot. Jack and Catherine got out of the car. Jack adjusted his tie again, then hand in hand the couple strolled towards the elevator by the side of the open space parking lot.

Not too far away, a man stood observing, a man in dark overalls and sunglasses. Then he spoke into his walkie-talkie.

"No doubts, it’s a red Viper2," he said softly.

"That’s impossible, he can’t be that rich," a shrunk voice came from the walkie-talkie. "Never mind, let them come," it continued, then the radio went dead. The dark man took a last look at Jack Griffin’s back, then turned to leave.

Jack slowed down and turned back around to face the opposite building’s top, where the dark man was. He saw the man just now, when he was getting out of the car. He saw the man again, this time turning to walk away. No mistakes, the man was definitely spying on him. Jack shrugged it off. Not now, for he had a job at hand, he had an impression to make.

The restaurant wasn’t very crowded, but it’ll pass off as congested. Jack and Catherine entered the restaurant, Coulthard’s Restaurant. Jack scanned the interior for any signs of Dickinson Lawson, his father-in-law.

"Hey! My Angel!" A shout came from the left. The couple turned to face the source of the voice.

"Dad," Catherine cried softly, happy to see her father once again. Before Jack Griffin came into the picture, the two had a pretty good relationship. Cat rushed towards the man seated to their left. Jack walked smartly towards the big man in big trench coat and basically rich overalls. Jack stood upright and honourable.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson," Jack saluted and extended his right hand for a handshake.

"Ah Jack! Here, seat down, enjoy the company," Dick Lawson denied the handshake and motioned for Jack to seat down. Jack’s sixth sense heightened promptly. It was the kind of sense that one developed if they were in criminal services for long enough, a sense of imminent danger. Jack’s wasn’t as strong; Bruce’s and Cole’s sixth senses were almost legendary.

First, Dick Lawson denied his handshake, a definite gesture of rejection. Then, Jack noticed, the table was way too big for just 3 people, in fact it was set up for at least 5.

"Company?" Jack tried to remain neutral. Just then two men, two blacks, dressed nicely came to the table and greeted Lawson.

"Yes, do sit down, my dears," Lawson motioned again, and this time, the offer applied to the two blacks as well. Jack looked at Catherine seated beside her father. She too had sensed something wrong. The two blacks flanked Jack.

"These are my new friends, I thought you might be comfortable with them around," Dick Lawson introduced, with a slight hint of mockery.

The man to Jack’s right spoke,

"Hi, I’m Coolio, the B3 Dukes gang leader. Man, I heard a lot about you and your gang."

"I’m Cory, the Archies gang leader…" the man to Jack’s left introduced himself. Jack did not bother to listen anymore, he was already swarmed with fury. He focussed at his laughing father-in-law. So this was it, send someone to mock him, so obviously he hadn’t forgiven him. A man approached Dick Lawson. Jack re-focussed all his anger at the man. He stopped short. He had seen this man before, it was the guy dressed all in black spying on him earlier on. So, his father-in-law even sent someone to spy on him. Jack calmed himself. It would be a long night ahead. He had just the perfect plan to spend the rest of the night. He looked at Catherine, poor Catherine, she would have to be without her husband till the wee hours of the morning, Jack had made up his mind. He wished Catherine good luck with their child she was carrying in her.

It was late, two more hours to midnight. But the Viper Complex still shone bright. The Viper Team was still fully awake and functioning; they had gotten use to sleeping as little as possible. They loved their job. And of course, they were special, which was why they belonged to the Special Projects Division.

Adrian was still at where he was hours ago, before the mainframe. Suddenly he spun around, away from the console.

"Hey guys, check this out. I narrowed the search and found 3 suspects of your description. All Metrons. No names yet, but I’ll keep narrowing," Adrian reported. Then as abruptly as he turned around, he turned back to face the mainframe and continue his work.

Bruce stood up from his position in front of the Dodge Viper’s front fender. Him, Cole and Frankie were spending the spare time fine-tuning the blood red vehicle. He proceeded towards the mainframe, while Cole and Frankie stayed to work on the Viper.

"I’ll mail Mason," Bruce reported and sat down in front of one of the side sub-mainframes computers. Basically, it was the mainframe, but a branch out of its awesome processing power. Bruce started typing.

5 minutes passed. Bruce straightened suddenly.

"Cole," Bruce called out in suspicion. "Isn’t Jack out early tonight? And his mailbox directed to Mason’s?"

"Yeah," came the response.

"Then why’s the message redirected back to Jack’s office?" Bruce asked again. This time Cole did not answer. He stood up and locked eyes with Bruce, their sixth sense kicking in. Frankie and Adrian stopped work and looked at the dynamic duo, even they sensed something amiss.

Then Franklin Xavier Waters, the most experienced man in the team reacted. He knew the drill like the back of his hand. He shut the opened hood in a swift motion and put the Viper back on standby. Bruce and Cole, the two field agents, and darn good ones dived into the Viper without a word, their actions were already well rehearsed and coordinated. The actions spoke for themselves.

The engine roared to life, it was louder than the Viper2’s. Starting together with the engine were the lights. The two Viper-eyes-headlights lit up and emitted rays that would pierce anyone’s eyes looking directly at them. Those were not the only lights. The two so-called fog-lamps also brightened up. But they were more than just lamps. They were spotlights mounted on the car, and very powerful ones as well. The Viper sprang into motion, launching itself into the tunnel in front of it, then disappearing from view, gone.

Adrian wished them luck, then turned back to his job at hand. Frankie proceeded to monitor the situation from one of the monitors. It was going to be a long night.

Just 2 hours ago, the office was bright, but now, it was dark, very dark, except for the few streaks of amber city street lights that managed to steal their way through the window of office 6 on level 37.

Without warning at all, the door crashed opened. Jack jumped a heartbeat in the darkness. He turned reflexively and faced the door, and saw his two Special Agents, Bruce and Cole. He was just joking with them 2 hours ago, but now Jack himself was all emotionally spent, and the two agents were all serious, with guns drawn and on high alert.

Bruce sensed the moody environment, and decided to keep the lights off. Jack faced the window again and said softly,

"Put away with the guns."

The duo looked at each other for confirmation, then when Cole nodded his head. Both men holstered their guns. One thing about heroes, they tend to sense right and wrong easily. The same went for this pair.

"How did you find me here?" Jack asked.

"We tried to send a mail to Mason to inform him of our new findings, but Bruce found the message redirected back to your office," Cole answered and looked at the functioning computer. "Apparently you had your computer on, but we thought something went wrong."

Jack sighed.

"Guess I needed someone to talk to anyway, I’ll let you in on it," Jack gave in. Suddenly Cole frowned, then reached to pull out his vibrating handphone. He answered it, then shut it off after a few seconds.

"Sorry guys, I’ll have to get back to the Complex, something sensitive about the Cartel just popped up. Bruce, keep him company," Cole apologised and left the building in a hurry. Bruce turned to Jack in the darkness.

"So what went wrong?" Bruce asked.

"Hah!" Jack laughed sarcastically. " Cat’s father, he still does not forgive me. He sent some idiot dressed all in black to spy on me, that’s number 1, number 2, he hired some gang leaders to mock me. My own father-in-law, you believe that? Damn, had one Hell of a fight with myself back there, then decided to spend the tonight in the office to think it through."

"Where’s Cat? She alright?" Bruce asked, concerned.

"Yeah, she’s at home."

Then the already functioning computer started beeping. Both men turned to face the display. Jack was puzzled, this had never happened before. But Bruce was focussed, he was familiar with all types of computer works. Then Bruce lit up in realisation.

"Jack, you remember the house defenses I set up for you?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah," Jack replied, still a bit puzzled.

"Someone just breached them," Bruce told him flatly. Both men looked at each other, calculating the possibilities, then gasped in unison,

"Catherine!"

Though not the usual duo, but this duo was similarly quick. They ran out of the office and into the elevator. Wherever there was danger, the Viper2 would be there to fight it.

The city asphalt glowed amber under the streetlights. A car screeched out of the carpark, then made an ear-piercing screeching bold U-turn from behind the carpark onto the main street. It proceeded to reach a speed unattainable by most vehicles, and zoomed in on its latest target. There was no time to lose.

Bruce was at the helm of his own car, the Viper2. He keyed the comm. A small computer screen at the lower part of the center console appeared after the radio and air-conditioner controls disappeared. It changed from "standby" to a view of the complex from the mainframe’s point of view. Without waiting for any face to appear, Bruce ordered,

"Cole, meet us at Jack’s house A. S. A. P., in the Defender. Suspected assault, and we’ve got a pretty good idea who’s behind it, and why."

At the other end, Cole’s face appeared on the screen.

"Right," he acknowledged, and the screen became "standby" again. Like we discussed earlier on, when danger arose, this man, the man who would take lead when the need arose, would take lead. And he had just done so.

"Aren’t we gonna morph?" Jack asked as the Viper went past another street.

"Won’t do. We can’t get out of the car and let them know we have a machine like that. Sort of heightens their defenses," Bruce’s answer made sense, and Jack did not dispute it.

"You sure Dick Lawson’s behind this?" Jack asked again for confirmation.

"Affirmative. He’ll try to kidnap his daughter to show that you’re incapable of protecting her," Bruce explained. Jack turned to look at the night city road from his shotgun seat in the Viper2. He wished the car could make much faster speed than what it was doing now. But he was a rational man, he knew Bruce was already doing a daredevil stunt. Travelling at 180mph on city roads at night was no easy job. It took someone as focussed as Bruce to see anyone through safely.

Bruce read the thought, and decided to risk it. He added pressure on the pedal his right foot was on. The speedometer hit 190mph.

In the dead of the night, a streak of red zipped through the amber streets of Metro City. Where there’s trouble, it would be there.

Catherine Griffin was still in her white overalls when the first signs hit home. A jab of pain in her stomach, then another, then many others. The pain became multiple. Just what she feared, she was going into labor. This wasn’t a false alarm, she could feel it.

Cat reached for the phone. She needed to call Jack. She felt sorry for all the bad stuff her father had put him through, in fact, she was going through all the events alone when the signs came. She had felt better to leave him alone, but now, she needed him more then anything else.

The alarm went off.

Catherine’s heartbeat jumped. This wasn’t anticipated either! She stole a quick look amidst all the pain in her stomach at the alarm control on the wall ahead. The 1^st light was blinking, someone was trying to break in, the defenses Jack’s teammates had set up for him had been breached. But they were still holding. She started taking precautions, or at least tried to take precautions, for the pain in her was excruciating. There was no time. Cat held out, then got to her feet, just as the first sounds of machine gunfire rang above the ringing alarm.

Catherine staggered into the storeroom and slammed the door shut. She was already bathed in cold sweat, and more broke out. If she did not do something soon, she would probably die, or the child in her would die! There was no point calling Jack now, the alarm would have lit the signal in his office computer.

Catherine mustered the last of whatever reserve energy she had left, and reached behind the doorknob of the storeroom door. She felt for the lever, found it, and pulled it down. Jack had given her specific instructions to do so if someone tried to break in.

The storeroom started lowering. Catherine laid down flat on the storeroom ground as she travelled underground. She was gasping, she needed help fast.

Coolio and the B3 Dukes dressed themselves up like commandos; in fact they would have past off as commandos, if they weren’t on the wrong side of the law. Lawson’s deal was too good to miss. Get the girl, get paid. $100,000 per person, that was good money.

Coolio ordered heavy firearms to be brought in for this mission, there must be no failure. But when he attempted to break using the conventional break the lock method, he encountered the weirdest thing in his life, yet. First, the guy picking the lock was shorted with a voltage, enough to put him out of action, but not enough to kill him. Then the alarm went off. Now Coolio had seen doors with alarm sensors, but not padlocks! Besides, the wires were supposed to be cut off.

Coolio was trying to figure out a way, when one of his men got nervous with the alarm ringing and them doing nothing. That idiot opened fire at the sliding doors. Coolio pulled him back, fearing he might harm the girl, but the 2^nd weirdest thing happened. Instead of the glass breaking, the bullets ricocheted off the surface! That was not the end, metal barricades emerged from the top of the glass sliding doors and sealed off the house.

Coolio was forced to really settle down and think. But before he could do so, a red car charged onto the kerb. It was a Viper2, Jack’s Viper2; he remembered it from earlier on during the dinner. Coolio’s men lost their cool at the sound of the tyres screeching to a halt. They opened fire. The machine gunfire splattered all over the red hull of the gleaming vehicle. Then the 3^rd weird event of the evening happened. The bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the hull of the vehicle, even the windshield! Zero damage.

Bruce and Jack dodged at the random spray of bullets.

"Oops!" Bruce gasped and hit a red button on the mid-console. From Coolio’s point of view, the roof of the convertible emerged from the trunk as the windows started moving up. Then the conversion was complete. The whole car was sealed up, completely impenetrable.

"Man, what’s this? A military operation?!" Bruce was puzzled at the grand display of heavy gunfire. Bruce reached for his usual gun and pulled it out. Jack drew his own. Then Bruce reached behind for his spare gun and pulled it out.

"Take it Jack, you’ll need it," Bruce gestured for Jack to take the spare gun. Jack grabbed the gun and chambered it. Bruce opened the glove compartment to reveal an assortment of handheld firearms. He pulled one out and shut the cover, his emergency gun. He took out a comm. set, the type that clipped to one ear, and handed it to Jack while he readied his own. Then he chambered both his guns.

"Ready?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah!"

Coolio watched as his men wasted ammunition on the car. Then the doors to both sides opened, and two men charged out. Coolio recognised Jack as the shotgun rider, but the driver was new to him. Both men had two guns each, and they were opening fire. It was going to be a gunfight. Coolio himself squatted down and aimed his gun, just as distant wailing was heard.

A small precinct at the heart of Metro City just turned into a battlefield.

"I’ll cover you! Go! Go! Go!" Bruce shouted over the noise of the gunfire to Jack. Jack ran across the open grass as Bruce fired his guns blindly in the direction of the "soldiers". Then, in an attempt to cover Jack all the way, he himself emerged from the shielded side of the Viper2 and ran towards the house, firing as he ran. Like we discussed, Bruce had the sniper-eye, his shots were mostly instinct shots, but were pretty well aimed ones as well. Jack got the sheltered side of the house and covered Bruce so that he too reached the blind spot.

Coolio’s attention was captured. That unknown man escorting Jack was not just another. That man’s shots actually made sense! Every shot he made, Coolio observed, despite the state of mess the battleground was in, was lethal, or intended to be lethal. He had successfully taken down two of his men, square in the chests. Coolio made it a point to target this man. Then the men in blue arrived in blue-white police vehicles. MetroPol had arrived. But the B3 Dukes did not have to care, the Dukes was a big gang.

Coolio turned to target the man again as his men spread out to cover the police with gunfire as well. But too late, the two men had made it to the leeway side of the house.

"Damn!" Coolio cursed silently. Then suddenly the lethal man strafed into the open and got off 4 shots before strafing into safety again. Coolio checked on his men, damn, two more men downed by the sharpshooter.

"Get in there!" Bruce shouted into the comm. to Jack, as he stood guard above the secret passage. In the mess, he had almost missed the arrival of the police, but now that they were here, they had given the "soldiers" something else to shoot at. Bruce stole a peek, well, maybe MetroPol officers weren’t that bad after all, first, they were actually here on time, and second, they had gunned down a few of the "soldiers".

Once Jack got into the passage, Bruce resumed his red alert position. His tactic: hit and fade. He had taken two of the "soldiers" down already, and he would take more down if necessary. These people were making him boil.

Jack crashed into the underground basement of his house. He started scanning, then saw Catherine in the storeroom/elevator, in pain. Jack rushed over.

"What’s wrong honey, they got you?" Jack was desperate.

"I think I’m in labor," Catherine barely managed.

"Shit!" Jack cursed; this was the worse time to go into labor. He shouted into the comm.,

"Bruce, Cat’s going into labor, we need to get her to Metro Hospital, it’s just round the bend!"

"Take my car! I’ll cover you!" Bruce confirmed Jack’s request. Bruce reloaded his guns and continued to exchange fire. Apparently the leader of this gang had decided to centerboard him, for over the last few minutes, gunfire in his direction met a sharp increase. MetroPol wasn’t doing enough! But that had sparked a thought in Bruce’s mind though: where did this gang get its supply? But that would have to come later. Right now, he had a big problem: the odds were against him.

Jack emerged from the passage carrying a groaning Catherine.

"We need to get across!" Jack shouted.

"No go. Too heavy gunfire!" Bruce rejected the statement. "Jack, give me my car remote," Bruce ordered. He had no choice, Catherine needed to get to the hospital. Jack handed him the small key-chain. There was only one thing left to do, hit the sacred button.

Something gleamed out of oblivion. Something silver.

Even before Bruce could lay a finger on it, extremely heavy Teflon gunfire rained the battlefield. Bruce was instantly one up.

"Ha ha! It’s Cole!" Bruce made a victory punch. The Calvary just arrived, in the form of a silver vehicle shaped like a snake. The vehicle climbed onto the kerb and came to a stop from its hot run. The gang was by now way too shocked to do anything harmful. Even Coolio was in a state of shock. There were just too many weird events happening in one night. 1^st, an armoured house, 2^nd, an amoured sports car, 3^rd, a super gunner out of the blue, now, a silver never-seen-before futuristic vehicle shaped like a snake. What’s more, it emerged out from oblivion like some kind of knight to the rescue and showered them with heavy fire! Coolio gave up on the $10000, Jack was no ordinary man, he had the weirdest things guarding him. Coolio simply gave up.

"Go!" Bruce ordered. Jack headed towards the Viper2, with Bruce shielding him, but not firing. Coolio saw the chance, maybe at least shoot the sharpshooter. He was making it personal now. Coolio risked it and raised his gun.

"Hey! The lady’s in labor!" the sharpshooter shouted at Coolio’s direction. Coolio paused. He was a gangster on a mission, but he was human, he knew better than to harm an innocent life. Coolio switched on his comm. and connected.

Bruce saw the gangleader speaking into the comm., probably to whoever’s manufacturing this assault. Jack took the opportunity of the stand off and loaded Catherine into the Viper2. Then he himself got behind the wheel. Bruce whispered quietly into his own comm. to Cole. Then there was a screech as the Viper2 U-turned and dashed off towards the bend. Once it rounded the bend, Bruce focussed all his attention on the gang. He reached his left hand up and touched his spectacles. Immediately, shades morphed downwards to form RayBan-like sunglasses. Bare in mind, this pair of sunglasses was not normal.

Coolio had never seen anything like that before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the MetroPol officers turning around so that they faced away from the silver vehicle. Coolio frowned.

"Cole, thunderflash," Bruce ordered. Coolio observed. The same arm under the silver car’s car door lit up brightly in a whitish blue manner. Then a spark sprang out of it. It was sort of beautiful. The cluster of light exploded into, well, very bright light. The B3 Dukes screamed in pain as they were temporary blinded.

Bruce witnessed the whole event, he wasn’t affected, he had sunglasses, special sunglasses. He smiled. The thunderflash was actually a static pulse missile, a cluster of ion gathered to disable a target. But Cole had reconfigured the static pulse to explode as a thunderflash, and his plan to get the officers to hide first had worked. Bruce felt brilliant. Well, he always felt this way. Just as long as he did not go overboard.

The MetroPol officers turned back around and proceeded to handcuff the gangsters. A few of them stole a peek or two at the silver machine with two fang-like structures in front. Over the years, they had come to know from experience that this vehicle, though deadly, worked on their side of law, and it was a great asset. They had accepted it. Bruce spared not time. He ran to the right side of the silver vehicle, known to him as the Defender, and entered it.

Cole waited patiently. There was no need to rush things now, since Jack had already gotten Catherine to the hospital. Bruce came sat down comfortably on the shotgun seat. Retrospectively, it really had been some time since Cole was behind the wheel of the Defender. Most of the time either Bruce drove, or he rode shotgun in the other car. Cole didn’t know to like it or not. He loved driving, especially the Defender, the car was almost customised for him. But being over 40, he knew the limit. Someone had to take over, and that someone needed all the training he needed if he were to enter this business, and Bruce was the perfect choice for a successor. There were absolutely no substitutes.

Once the door shut, Cole hit the pedal. The Defender reversed out from the kerb and under Cole’s experienced hand, made a perfect reverse-90 degree spin on the spot. The silver car, a car way too flat to flip over, sped into the amber glow of the Metro City street lamps, leaving tyre tracks on the wet asphalt. It approached the dark bend, and negotiated it with ease. Then as abruptly as it appeared, it disappeared.

Cole cruised on the wet road. Up ahead was Metro Hospital. This stretch of straight brought back memories.

"You know Bruce," Cole started.

"Yeah?" Bruce responded readily, always all ears for his friends, especially his mentor.

"This road brings back memories."

"What kind?"

"My very first mission with the second Viper Team."

Bruce sat up abruptly, he was definitely interested.

"Go on," Bruce said.

"At that time, we were battling Colonel Dekker, a nutcase military man out to rob banks. He got Frankie captured and tied to his truck front. . I launched a missile to blow off his truck top. There was a violent explosion, then a static pulse disabled it. While untying the ropes holding Frankie, Dekker woke up and restarted the truck with its second generator. Frankie and I were trapped in front of the truck, on it. It was moving at full speed on a suicidal crash into Metro Hospital. Westlake, you know who she is?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, Detective Cameron Westlake, Viper Team’s liaison to MetroPol, years ago. Was reassigned with you when the RT/10 blew up. But she poked her nose in around long enough and got reinstated instead."

"If you out it that way," Cole gave a small laugh at Bruce’s sarcastic view of what happened years ago. He continued,

"Well, she drove the car up front so that Frankie and I could jump onto its back. Given time, we would have driven back and fired something to put it out of action, but the hospital was coming up, and we had no time. What would you have done, Bruce?"

"Okay, lets see. Backfiring was out of the question. You and Frankie would be exposed to any explosions. There was no static pulse behind. I would use the probe."

"Right on the spot, but how would you have used it?"

"Well, there are many ways. Cut away the tyres, lift it up and turn it around, blow its engine-."

"Bruce, the old probe did not have such abilities."

"Oh, then self-destruct it under the truck, it’s the surest way."

"Exactly. Jack’s right, they don’t pay you for nothing, you are good. I ordered Westlake to launch the probe and swerve the Defender out of the way. Allie, you know about her?"

"Yeah, young African American, high hacking brains. Upgraded the Defender constantly. Said she won’t leave the team after you return from your faked-death-deep-undercover mission. But left after one mission to join a UN think-tank group," Bruce summarised sarcastically again.

"You have something against women?" Cole joked, before continuing,

"Anyway, she piloted the probe by remote from the Complex, planted it under the truck, waited for Westlake to get us out of range, then hit the self-destruct button for the Probe. Completely blew up Dekker’s truck. It was quite a memorable moment. The Complex should have the recorded video, check it out, it was a beautiful explosion."

"Yap, and you and Frankie get to experience it unshielded, nice."

"I told you it was nice. Now, back to the record," Cole became serious again. "I intercepted that gangleader’s transmission and Adrian did some work. The black is Coolio Massey. No known inappropriacy in records. The guy he was talking to, Dick Lawson. Which meant he sent Coolio in to bully Jack."

"I figured as much. Come on lets morph, we’re getting close," Bruce said as the hospital closed in. Cole reached his right hand under the dashboard and felt for the switch. He found it, then pressed it.

From outside, the silver vehicle disappeared from the street lamp peripheral and into temporal darkness. That was the last we shall see of it for now, for when the resultant vehicle emerged from the darkness into the sudden brightness of the hospital lights, it was no longer silver. It was a blood red Dodge Viper RT/10 Roadster. Why? We shall discuss later once again.

Cole aligned the car parallel to the kerb, just in front of the already parked there but in odd position Viper2. Bruce emerged first and reached for his key chain remote control. Well, he forgot, the remote was with Jack, well so much for trying to park the Viper2 straight. Cole emerged.

Soon, both men, one in pullover, the other in a brown jacket, crashed their way into Metro Hospital, gone.

The mighty duo arrived outside Operation Room 7. There was nothing they could do, so they waited. Cole leaned against the wall to the left of the op-room while Bruce took his position to the right, on the opposite wall. Ultimately, it was Bruce, the younger, more reckless, and less patient one that fidgeted first. He reminded Cole of his younger self. That time, he was doing barnstorming, stunt-driving in the countryside for his parents. Then when he was 18, he decided to leave showbiz and go to the City to have it out on his own. He ended up in Department of Transportation (DOT), which catered to any form of transportation.

There he spent his time doing the most boring stuff; he was too good to be in DOT. Then a federal agent spotted his talent, and pulled him out of DOT, straight into CIA for driving training as a security driver. Cole was grateful, for he learnt new strategies and techniques, and slowly formulated his own, merging the techniques with the ones he knew. He graduated and was transferred to the UN to chauffeur top officials. During a war, he and buddy/mentor Billy Lennox was transferred to transport supplies for the military. After which, the Federal Agency put Cole into a top secret government project, where he is right now.

But Bruce was nothing like that. Bruce received zero training from anyone. Everything he did and could do was taught to him by himself. That made Cole admire him somehow, an admiration for someone younger, and better than himself. To Cole, Bruce was amazing, and for such a young gun, his patience level was already infinite. Cole was happy to see that the Viper Team was in good hands, and safety of Metrons was at least guaranteed.

Bruce walked to the window at the end of the corridor, and glanced out. He saw the road he just travelled on. He looked further, and saw the bend at the far end. But he saw something else, a car, a black car. It was travelling at high speed, but it negotiated the wet bend with expertise, without any lose in speed at all. It wasn’t simple doing that, the exact amount of acceleration and deceleration at just the right time was needed. Cole did it earlier on, and Bruce had done it countless times before, but he never knew anyone else who could execute such a move.

Bruce frowned. Either the driver was really good, or else it was pure coincidence. Bruce shrugged it off. But Bruce did notice something else that mattered for now. When the car passed through the temporal darkness and emerged into the strong lights like the Viper/Defender did, the interior was illuminated, and he saw Dick Lawson riding shotgun. The driver of the car he recognised as a Dodge Stealth was not familiar to Bruce. Bruce chucked the question of who the guy was into the back of his head. For now, Dick Lawson had arrived.

"Dick’s here," Bruce announced, who had just moved from his wall to the one directly opposite. Cole acknowledged, and snapped to alertness, straightening up in a nanosecond. That was Cole, the veteran crime fighter.

Lawson and his assistant arrived on Level 4 Operation Room 7 within 5 minutes of Bruce’s message to Cole. Either it’s Cole’s and Bruce’s charisma, or something else, when the flustered Dick Lawson arrived, and caught sight of the two agents set on high alert and flanking the corridor, he almost completely drew back. It was his assistant who stopped him in time. That move succeeded in setting off the alarm in Bruce’s sixth sense. That man wasn’t even surprised by Bruce and Cole, which was unusual under this circumstance.

Lawson recovered and turned his graze away, so that neither agent got a chance to look at him straight in the face. His assistance, however, wore sunglasses. Bruce found that move more of motive than of madness. He could sense those eyes behind the sunglasses scrutinizing him and Cole bit by bit.

Bruce backed his right hand to his right waist, away from his main gun on his left waist. Bruce executed cross draws, which he found more convenient, quite against popular MetroPol believe. MetroPol officers believe so much in straight draws that they made it a regulation! Bruce’s left main gun was more or less easily visible to people who cared to watch, but unknown to many, he held another spare gun behind, on his right waist. It was usually hidden and unused, but if needed, he could draw it in less than a second, as fast as he could draw his main gun. In his years of service, the second gun had proved to be more than indispensable, and Bruce had learnt to trust it.

Cole also had the second weapon, and this occasion saw both agents edging their hands to the concealed weapons. Maybe the assistant knew, for he quickly drew back his gaze when he saw Bruce’s hand ease back.

The "Operation" light blinked off. All the attention and pressure that had built up in the last few minutes was immediately dissipated. Hell or not, it was now.

The doors opened and the doctor and nurses walked out steadily, but very obviously, gloomily. Bruce knew at the instant what to expect, so did Cole, who cursed silently and backed away from the door. Even the assistant backed off, only Dick Lawson stood hopeful.

Jack appeared. If he was preparing a surprise, he was doing it really fine, for his tie was hastily pulled loose, his shirt was unbuttoned, he hair was messy, and he looked and gloomy as the nurses. He was angry. Jack saw Dick Lawson. For the first time in the history of the Viper team, Bruce saw Jack blow his top off. He charged at Lawson with all his might and pinned him onto the wall opposite the op-room door. The strength of an angry man could never be estimated.

"You ordered the attack, didn’t you?" Jack was speaking in a threatening tone, not shouting. That frightened Lawson a bit.

"Hey, I was only trying to built some backbone in you!" Lawson said matter-of-factly.

"I won’t let you off, Dick. You hear that? You want to know why, well, here’s why, YOU KILLED MY SON!"

Bruce’s eyes widened: a miscarriage. He had guessed it right. He looked at Cole, but Cole had no visible reaction to the news. He probably knew it. Dick Lawson’s reaction to the news was typical. He backed off, but the wall prevented him from doing so. He was shocked. Bruce wondered how this man was capable of doing business and making it big if he was so gullible. But Bruce was happy that his opponent was so stupid.

"Dick Lawson, you want to mess with Federal authority? Well, you just did. You’ve crossed the line once too many times, and you just busted one major personal line. We started off on fair ground. You don’t touch me? I don’t touch you. But you stepped on my turf, and you watch out. From now on, you’re gonna have the weight of the Federal Agency as well as Jack Griffin on you. You’re going down, Dick, you’re going down. ‘Cos the backbone you want to see is staring back at you!" Jack was back at the threatening tone again.

Silence stood for a minute as Lawson absorbed the facts. Then he started moving, trying to regain some dignity. He pushed Jack off him. But Cole stepped in and slammed him, literally, back onto the wall.

"And who the Hell are you? His dog?" Lawson shouted after failing to move the strong arm away.

"His guardian angel. And we guardian angels do a lot more cleaner stuff than selling drugs," with that, Cole released his arm from Dick Lawson.

"Now get lost," Cole ordered. Lawson shuddered at the word "drugs". Bruce saw it, so did his assistant, who quickly pulled Dick out of the tight spot. Bruce remembered the time when Cole was called back to the Complex by Frankie. Classified information must not be sent via air waves to anywhere, visual confirmation was needed, and Adrian probably found this piece of information sensitive, which was why he called Cole back to confirm. If Jack let Lawson know he knew Lawson was the drug lord, that could well be the end of Jack and Catherine’s relationship. But now that Lawson crossed the line first, the piece of information was the key to bringing Lawson down.

Jack stared at Lawson till he was gone from Level 4, then collapsed on the bench nearby. He covered his face and made a gesture of cleaning it. Then he spoke softly,

"I want that guy in sunglasses checked out. He spied on me. I have his voice, you have his face, get his name."

"No need, Frankie called me back just now to confirm it. That sunglassed guy is the man behind the drug cartel we’re after. His name’s John Tender. Number 2 is a man named Ghent Mory and the last, Dick Lawson himself. But since he is third that makes him a probably suspect for an innocent victim being made guilty by hacking," Cole reported.

"I want Dick Lawson stripped of all his defenses, Cole, get him and make sure he can’t run," Jack ordered, still angry.

"Right," Cole answered and looked at Bruce. Bruce wasn’t paying attention anymore, Cole thought the smart young agent might have already speculated most of the story. Bruce was staring out of the window. Cole joined him.

Outside, the same Dodge Stealth that carried Dick Lawson to Metro Hospital was leaving, travelling along the same straight road, towards the bend. It reached the bend; Bruce focussed his attention even more. The black car negotiated the bend at high speed with completely zero skis.

"John Tender you said?" Bruce gulped.

"Yeah," Cole answered once again.

"Once, maybe just luck. Twice, not a chance. Tender’s a good driver, and a veteran at police work. We must centerboard him," Bruce cautioned. He knew, as much as Cole, that whatever was coming up for the Viper Team and Jack was not going to be pretty. But nevertheless, they shall face it, like they did many times before.

A streak of red burst into the dark horizon. The moon was out of sight. The sky was overcast. Danger was on the way.

The Viper Complex looked enticing. It was prestigious. One will be surprised at the amount of resources put into it. Its location was secret, somewhere in the outskirts of Metro City. The Vipers could reach the City either via an underground tunnel directly linking it to the Federal Government Building, or by the country highway, which they preferred. Wires were embedded into the mud and any structure linking the Complex to the City for direct power and intelligence input. But the Complex also housed its own power source, a power generator the size of 5 locomotives. Actually, it wasn’t one generator, but something like 10, all fused together for optimal function and maximal harness of energy. It was beyond 21^st century technology. Joe Astor and Julian Wilkes would have been proud. The project had started off with them as illegal, and now it was not only legal, it had the full support of the Federal Government. The Government personally funded the project, entirely, all 6 billion dollars.

The blood red Dodge Viper drove in from the tunnel to the extreme left of the mainframe. The tunnel led to the country highway. It cruised to a stop on the circular platform to the mainframe’s left. The brake lights shut off. The doors opened. Bruce and Cole emerged, then closed the doors carelessly. As soon as they left the black circular platform, it started rotating, and bringing along with it, the Viper. The sight was powerful; the Viper was a vehicle that looked great from all angles, and even greater if it were given a chance to present all its angles.

Frankie left his position by the side of the mainframe and headed towards the two field agents.

"How’s Jack?" Frankie asked.

"No good, wife’s suffered a miscarriage from the shootout," Bruce answered, still feeling down and sorry for his friend. He had an extra strong perception for emotions.

"Adrian," Cole called out, going straight to business, and headed towards the mainframe, where Adrian was for most of his life. "You’ve got the 3 guys triangulated?"

"Yap," Adrian answered like a child with a new toy, though the mainframe was an old thing. "Given the current situation, I would get to Ghent Mory first, after all, he’s number 2."

"I still don’t believe it, Tender’s the first man?" Bruce was sore: he wanted Dick Lawson at number 1.

"The facts say so," Adrian replied again.

"But that’s quite clever, you know, all the time Lawson was his cover up," Frankie commented as he grabbed a new piece of printout.

"Whose address is this?" he asked after browsing through the sheet.

"Ghent Mory’s," Adrian replied yet again, he was becoming the dictionary, in another sense.

"We got to bring Ghent in, and I’ve got a plan," Cole finally spoke up. Whenever he had one, it was a good one.

Two cars sped towards the City skyline in the bright morning. But one of them was unusually purple. It didn’t seem like the Viper2, its colour wasn’t of the Viper2’s, and the speed didn’t seem to be that of the Viper2’s on this highway. Well, it wasn’t the Viper2. It was a Plymouth Barracuda, and a pretty old one, for the record. It was Frankie’s personal transport. It wasn’t his favourite, but he still loved it. It had seen a lot of action in the past with the car nut.

Cole never failed to mock Frankie when the chance came, that he would probably ditch the old, purple, slow Barracuda when he had the money to buy something faster. But Frankie had so far surprised every one by sticking to the old buddy machine. He had the money, but he did not get another car. Instead, he was constantly trying to upgrade the machine, and he had been quite successful. The car was now bullet proof, could do a 120mph, and had the same computer system that was embedded in the Vipers.

But for now, the Dodge Viper was seeing some almost stagnant action. By compensating the Barracuda’s 120mph, it was moving painstakingly slow!

Adrian sat alone at the mainframe. He was poised, ready for the command. The comm. came alive.

"Let’s do it," Bruce’s voice came through. Adrian acknowledged by placing both his hands on the contoured keyboard. Then he started typing, writing the program and executing it all in one, at light speed. Anyone, even Allie Farrow, would have thought him God.

On the big screen, the spinning "V" was replaced by a blue dialogue box, it was a program writing program. Commands started appearing, scrolling down the marine blue screen. Adrian had all the commands hardwired in his brain. He was still looking for a way to store these particular strings, for the strings had a special link with computers that made it impossible to store. Adrian tired to change the link, but only to realise that computers all over the world would have to do the same, and it would be troublesome. So he came up with a new hypothesis, that the link might be able to exist forever in the Internet. All he needed was some time to work it out, but now, he did not have the time.

Adrian finished typing and hit a button extraordinarily hard. The commands started executing, instantaneously and simultaneously. That was the specialty of this program, it was a hacker program, designed to destroy the opponent’s computer system. It traced and logged on to the opponent’s computer network and did everything annihilative to it before anyone could do anything, altogether at once. A red dot started blinking on the top right hand corner of the screen. Adrian relaxed and grinned.

Bruce sat alone at the helm of the Dodge Viper. Cole’s expertise was needed in the Barracuda in case danger arose, and he needed to get use to the car. They weren’t expecting this ride to be simple surfing, and if trouble did arise, the veteran would be better at handling the old car. Bruce would try to fend off any hostile vehicle or personnel, standard operating procedure. One more mention, the car nut Frankie was here as well, not so much as a tactician, but as an assistant. Besides, the Barracuda was his car.

The Viper’s comm. came on.

"I’ve got him, the rest’s yours," Adrian reported.

"Right," Bruce acknowledged. Trust Adrian to do all the computing stuffs, he won’t fail you.

The cars, already in the City, made a silent turn into a forested area.

The brown wooden office stood in what seemed like a jungle open. It was alone. It wasn’t a jungle open; a garden open better described it. A man in his early 30s sat in the office. He was typing furiously on his laptop. Just a moment ago, something disastrous happened. His computer was ruthlessly "punched" by someone unknown, some entity far more superior than Ghent Mory himself. Yes, that was the man himself, Ghent Mory.

Ghent was desperate: he had a lot of information in this laptop. In fact he was so desperate, he failed to notice someone behind him. A hand with a white hanker-chief sneaked up in a split second and covered his nose. Ghent struggled in vain. The hand was much too strong. Ghent went under.

Frankie took his hand off the unconscious man’s face.

"Let’s get him into the car, Bruce whispered beside him, he too was in the office. The two men carried Ghent Mory out of the hut, towards the waiting Barracuda. Cole opened the boot of the purple car. Bruce and Frankie dumped the senseless man inside as silently as possible.

There were 2 reasons for using the Barracuda. 1^st, they needed the boot space, 2^nd, the Viper2 was still with Jack. The Viper2, with its roof mounted, may be able to provide the boot space needed, it had a bigger boot space than the RT/10’s.

"Go, I’ll catch up later," Bruce whispered. Cole and Frankie knew better than to question Bruce’s judgement. They nodded and headed into the Barracuda. There was a silent rev of the engine, and the Barracuda took, very silently. The result of one of Frankie’s many upgrades.

Bruce sneaked back into the hut. A moment later, he reemerged and rushed into the vegetated part of the garden. There was a quiet rev of an engine, then silence.

There were two sets of tyre tracks on the wet asphalt at the edge of the City. No one had used the road yet except the Viper and the Barracuda. Distant rumbling was heard. Then out of the horizon, two streaks of red and purple respectively burst into the outskirt asphalt, super-imposing the previous tyre tracks.

Two men in black overalls glanced into the wooden office. It seemed all right, but still something bothered them. A moment ago, Ghent Mory sat there in that position. Now, he still sat there in that position, which was highly unlikely for the hyper active Ghent Mory. They decided, and crashed into the locked office-hut. One of the men turned the chair around, and both men’s eyes widened. Ghent Mory wasn’t there anymore. Boss had given them specific orders not to let Mory disappear. And now he had become a stick and a piece of cloth on a plate.

The 2 men were angry. They rushed into their parked black Dodge Stealths in the parking lot. One man switched on the onboard computer in his car and pressed a few buttons. The road ahead appeared on the compact computer screen. Then slowly, two sets of tyre tracks became prominent on the display. Both men hit their accelerators hard. The black cars surged forward, in the direction of the Viper and the Barracuda.

The Barracuda struggled, making a surprising 130mph. Cole decided to risk the speed, though the car wasn’t meant for it.

"Hey, slow it down Cole, this is my car!" Frankie complained on the shotgun seat of his own car. Cole gave a short laugh and continued revving the engine in rebellion.

"Frankie, if it spoils, there’s nothing you can’t fix," Cole joked. But truthfully, he was getting impatient at the slow speed.

The Dodge aligned itself by the left side of the Barracuda, looking relatively brotherly. Bruce was about to join the joking session, when something in the car bleeped. Bruce checked the radar. The vehicle had a program that tracked speeding vehicles. Bruce studied the stats. There were 2 speeding vehicles, both were Dodge Stealths, and Dodge Stealths don’t go up to 200mph. Bruce looked at the rear view camera. Just as he thought, the two cars had already caught up with them. Bruce thumbed the comm.

"Cole, 2 black Dodge Stealths coming up. I don’t think they are friendly. They are fast, way too fast, and now they are matching speed with us," Bruce cautioned.

"Be on standby," Cole noted. Frankie glanced behind nervously. Now was the time to prove that his upgrades were worthwhile.

Bruce eased back behind the Barracuda and tailgated the older vehicle. He tried to make everything seem normal, but he knew it was out of the question. A Barracuda travelling at 130mph was like the Stealths travelling at 200mph, completely out of the question. And what’s worse, a Viper, which could easily make 160mph, was tailing the Barracuda. Bruce braced for a showdown. But there was something else about the Stealths that rang a bell in Bruce’s head.

The 2 Stealths advanced till they were within 5 meters of the Viper, then a weird thing happened. The spotlights, or fog-lamps, by the side of the Stealths’ intakes opened, revealing gun barrels.

Bruce spotted the transformation and immediately went into evasive maneuvers. He swerved the car more to the right and accelerated closer to the Barracuda’s tail. The guns opened fire. The Viper shielded the Barracuda, taking all the hits, but zero damage.

The Stealths suddenly burst forward, realising they had the advantage since Bruce was on the defensive. Bruce hit the comm.

"Adrian, make a hologram or something to cover the Barracuda’s escape when we get near the Complex, you copy that?" Bruce ordered.

"Yeah," came the short response. The comm. went dead. Up ahead, the Stealths had zoomed ahead of the Barracuda and were trying to press it down by fancy driving. One Stealth was ahead of the Barracuda while the other by its left side, leaving the Barracuda no where to run. Bruce swerved to the left, letting Cole drop back, but instead, Cole charged to the left, challenging the hostile driver. His trick worked. The car to the left backed down in surprised, then realising its mistake, tried to drive the nose of the Stealth into the Barracuda’s back. But the Barracuda’s response was Cole at his best. Cole braked right as the left car piled-drive towards its tail. The car in front had tried to swerve to the left to cover the Barracuda. Cole’s maneuver brought him enough time to zoom ahead of the two Stealths. But the speed of the Barracuda soon enabled the Stealths to catch up again, this time, the Stealths aligned themselves by the Barracuda’s both sides. Now it was Bruce’s turn.

"Cole, tack team!" Bruce ordered. It was a special maneuver the duo had discussed sometime ago. The Viper charged into the pocket between the Stealth to the left and the Barracuda. It aligned beside the Barracuda, shielding the Barracuda from the left car. Then both Viper and Barracuda started pushing to the right, threatening the car to the right. The driver learned his lesson, and stuck to his position, but the Barracuda came awesomely close to it, in fact so close it intimidated the Stealth. The driver backed down. The car to the left pulled back as well for an assault from behind.

Bruce suddenly hit the brakes and turned the wheel. The Viper did a perfect 180-degree on the spot turn. In fact, it was so beautifully executed, it distracted the Stealths just long enough for the Barracuda to plough ahead. Bruce turned the car perpendicular to the roadside. That blocked the 1^st Stealth. It screeched to a stop. Bruce reversed the Viper to the other roadside, blocking the other Stealth as well, forcing it to brake. Then Bruce sat there doing nothing.

Both the Stealths accelerated forward again, only to find the Barracuda missing. Bruce trick had worked. He looked at the computer screen below the console. The Barracuda was now entering the Complex’s concealed carpark, shielded by Adrian’s hologram. Bruce glanced at the 2 Stealths charging into the horizon, looking in vain for the disappeared Barracuda. Bruce waited for the Barracuda’s signature to disappear, then brake-turned the car till it was parallel to the road, but with its back facing the direction of the 2 Stealths.

"You want fancy driving? I’ll give you fancy driving," Bruce grinned. He reached his right hand behind the right side of the steering wheel, to the joint connecting the wheel and the dashboard. His third finger casually reached into the slot in the joint. He felt the cold lever inside, then without a second thought, the pulled the lever downwards.

The Viper sat glowing red on the wet asphalt. The seam behind the doors on both sides widened, pushing the forward section forward.

The transformation was complete. The legendary peacekeeper was form. The ultimate weapon of the Federal Government and police pursuit and capture, the secret weapon to crime fighting, the never defeated guardian, the silver predator vehicle known only as the Defender. It sat glowing silver on the wet asphalt, poised to attack. Bruce shifted the gear to reverse, then hit the accelerator hard. The Defender’s wheels screeched on the wet asphalt, and the car launched itself backward at 250mph, in the direction of the Stealths. It was payback time.

The drivers of the Stealths cruised nicely at 200mph, but they felt nasty. Their target just disappeared, and they were checking to see if the Barracuda could be anywhere ahead.

There was a gleam of silver, then from behind, a silver vehicle burst into view in front of them. It matched speed some 10 meters from the 2 Stealths. The drivers were puzzled. 1^st, an old Plymouth Barracuda outran them in a fraction of a second, then now a silver never-seen-before vehicle shaped like a snake out-raced them and matched-speed, all the while in reverse, and it was still in reverse, with its head facing the Stealths. The snake eyes were practically staring back at them. The windows and windshield were tinted black, till nothing inside could be seen.

Bruce turned both hydraulic switches on the console. Both weapons portals on both sides of the Defender opened. They extended till the firing barrels were clear of any parts of the car.

The drivers became even more puzzled at the opening of what seemed like the weapons portals of the vehicle.

Bruce pushed two buttons simultaneously on the console.

The drivers were studying the futuristic predator-like vehicle when suddenly a flying projectile let flew from each weapons pod. When the drivers finally realised the projectiles were missiles, it was too late.

Bruce watched calmly as the missiles made contact with both vehicles, then promptly blew them up in an impressive display of pyrotechnic. Momentum carried the burning flying debris forward. Bruce changed gears and hit the accelerator just as wreckage reached his position. For a second, the Defender stood stationary on the asphalt, countering the change in direction. Its tyres responded to Bruce’s commands and spun the other direction, screeching on the wet asphalt. Then the initial direction of motion was overcame, and the Defender proceeded to speed into the horizon, leaving behind the burning debris, which had by now stopped moving.

Ghent Mory shivered as the wind blew. He felt cold and vulnerable. He could not see a thing for he was blindfolded. He was certain this was death. He strained his neck to try to see through the blindfold, but it was impossible. Suddenly, as sudden as the kidnap, the blindfold came off. The outside was bright. Ghent immediately squeezed his eyes shut. After a while, Ghent stole a peek. It wasn’t an interrogation room. It was the outskirts.

The sky was overcast with clouds, but it wasn’t going to rain. It wasn’t sunny either. All around him was flat grassland. Ghent had no idea why the Hell he was here, but all he knew was that he was assaulted, kidnapped, tied up onto a chair, and put in the middle of the Metro outskirts highway. He was sure it was the Metro outskirts, he had been here before, and the Metro City skyline was unmistakable.

A man in an old brown flight jacket, a Caucasian, appeared from behind and turned to face him. Another man, Chinese, in a blue pullover walked in front as well, but he kept walking. The American spoke.

"I’m Special Agent Cole, and that’s Special Agent Bruce," he referred to the man still walking away. " You must be wondering why you’re here. Well, Mr. Mory, we believe you have something about drugs to tell us, right?" Cole question, all the while sipping from a can of H2O.

So that’s what they want" drugs. Ghent knew if he spoke, he would get a lenient sentence, he knew Metro’s brand of law, quite effective. But Dick Lawson gave him specific instructions not to tell. Ghent had second thoughts about Lawson, but for now, he wanted to see what the 2 men had for him.

"What drugs?" Ghent asked dumbly. Cole smiled at him, then promptly placed the can of H2O on his head. Ghent felt the icy cold of the aluminium upon his head. He looked at the other man. Big mistake. The other man turned swiftly to face him some 20 meters away, gun in hand. That was a gunshot. Ghent squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Twang!"

Ghent opened his eyes slowly after a few minutes of silence. The weight of the can was gone from his head, and he was still alive. Ghent turned his head to the right. Cole was there, waiting patiently. The Chinese agent was still 20m away. Something in Ghent prompted him to speak reflexively.

"Look, I really don’t -!" Distant rumbling interrupted Ghent. It was a mistake: he should not have let his rebellious nature kick in. The Chinese agent stepped onto the road shoulder. Cole backed away as well, leaving Ghent helpless in the center of the highway. Ghent stared at the empty road ahead, then saw the source of the rumbling. From the horizon, a 14-tonner truck appeared. It seemed to be travelling at full speed, and at him!

Ghent was stunned: the truck kept coming, closing in on him very quickly. He gulped. The ground started shaking. Ghent’s face was drained of colour.

"I’ll tell!" Ghent suddenly shouted. He expected Cole to pull or push him out of the way, but Cole did not move. It was too late. Ghent looked at the truck. There was a loud screech as the truck tried to stop. Ghent screamed and squeezed his eyes shut once again. The truck’s noise overwhelmed his.

There was a moment of complete silence.

Ghent opened his eyes. He looked up. He pulled back. Right in front of him was the truck, inches from his legs. The truck was close, very close, in fact too close for comfort. Ghent could feel the radiation coming from the truck. Ghent sighed. The 2 agents smiled.

Bruce and Cole emerged from the glowing white semi-sphere in the center of the Viper Complex. It was the Holo-Chamber. They had Ghent Mory in the hologram hall all long!

"Bingo!" Cole remarked and grinned.

"Unbelievable, all the while Dick Lawson was the number 1 man, Ghent number 2, and Tender the 3^rd," Frankie remarked.

"Hacking, it’s wonderful if one knows how to make use of it," Adrian spoke from the mainframe. Ghent was hired by Lawson secretly to alter the records so that Tender switched places with Lawson. In return, Lawson pays him huge sums of money, which put him up in the number 2 spot. Now that Ghent had let the cat out of the bag, bringing Dick Lawson down was no problem. Bruce looked at the mainframe and laughed.

"Adrian, stop scaring him, that man’s frightened easily," Bruce told Adrian. Apparently, Adrian had transformed the 14-tonner into popular cartoon character Optimus Primal. And Ghent was just a step from completely blacking out.

" ‘Kay!" Adrian responded playfully and typed a few commands into the Mainframe. Optimus Primal transformed back into he'’ truck form. Ghent slumped unconscious on his chair.

"Adrian," Bruce was back to business now. "Help me check out the Tender file. All those black Dodge Stealths are ringing in my head real loud." Adrian proceeded to call up the classified information search screen. Soon a screen came up, titled: "Jonathan Alfonse Tender". Bruce started reading it. Cole and Frankie joined him. Bruce frowned at a particular line.

"Former member of the Outfits. Not prominent due to driver/leader Michael Peyton’s shadow of power. Who the Hell is Michael Peyton? And what the Hell is the Outfits?" Bruce was frustrated.

"Michael Peyton is better known as Joe Astor to many. And the Outfits was his gang, not exactly his, but he was the best driver around," Frankie answered.

"Still doesn’t stop the ringing in my head," Bruce complained.

"Well, here’s the full story," Frankie offered. "When Julian Wilkes first invented the Defender, its power curve was way too great for anyone normal to handle, a seasoned ace was needed. At that time, the Outfits were roaming the Metro streets as if the government was nothing. They travelled around in black vehicles, all sorts, but black."

"Well, that explained it. All the Stealths were black!" Bruce realised.

"Anyway, after massive planning, MetroPol captured Peyton and brainwashed him. Then they initiated the project, putting Astor behind the wheel. But the Outfits bribed the corrupted government and got them to terminate the project. In a final attempt to beat crime, Wilkes and Astor moved the project under grounds. It became illegal. I joined them after sometime and became their pipeline, the unofficial liaison to the Viper project. But when the secret got out, Astor got into the car and drove off into the horizon. Then the project restarted on a Federal level. And Cole got involved. When Cole was reassigned, Astor came back to help out. But my honest opinion says Cole’s a better driver than Astor," Frankie said.

"If that Tender guy is better than Astor, then maybe even Cole can’t stop him," Bruce remarked matter-of-factly.

"We still have you," Cole pointed to Bruce casually. "Come on, I think someone will want to nail Tender and Lawson personally, someone who still has the Viper2."

Lawson and Co. building stood 30 storeys tall. It was one of the less significant buildings in the Metro City skyline, and it stood at the border between Metro City and Metro Outskirts. The brown building delt mostly with the stock market, all 30 storeys of it. And of course, at the heart of it, Dick Lawson, the big boss. The building had lasted for more than 30 years. Before Catherine Lawson was born until now, when Jack and Catherine almost had their first child. It had been successful business for the past 3 decades, and Dick Lawson made sure that it was able to go on with or without him around. He was, though a criminal, a very good and meticulous leader.

Dick Lawson stepped out from behind the front glass doors into the city. He paused a moment, taking in the wet air, or so he thought. A moment later, he was joined by John Tender, his right hand man. Tender put on his sunglasses and started escorting Lawson to his own black Viper2. He knew the ritual from his days in the Outfits. He saw how the good side of the law could be so cunning as to brainwash his very own team member Michael Peyton just so as to have him on their side. Tender ran from the Outfits days before its imminent downfall, only to reset-up a small unit of renegade Outfits. He respected and followed the code: black cars, and he vowed never to betray that code.

Lawson and Tender headed towards the black Viper2 at a normal pace. They were halfway there when suddenly 3 figures stepped into their path. Lawson and Tender stopped in their tracks. Lawson recovered from his temporary shock and saw the man in his path: Jack Griffin. The other two were in black flight jackets and sunglasses: Federal Marshals.

"We have sufficient evidence to pull you in, Mr. Lawson," Jack grinned. "You have the right to remain silent, but whatever you say may be used against you in court. The same goes for you, Mr. Tender. So, will the 2 of you please?"

Jack was pointing at the waiting dark red-Federal Marshal vehicle. Right behind the vehicle is Bruce’s blood red Viper2, unconditionally loaned to Jack for now. Its menacing form overshadowed the Federal Marshal vehicle.

Lawson stepped back, conscience stricken. Finally, Tender the right hand man reacted. He whispered hastily into Lawson’s ear and ran towards his Viper2. He jumped into the driver’s seat and pushed the ignition button. Tender rested his arms on the steering wheel and shifted his feet to standard driving position. His right leg was about to hit the accelerator pedal when he felt a sudden jerk on his shoulder. Tender’s eyes widened completely. He was surprised at this sudden twist of events. Before he could even get a thought at what was pulling him, he was lifted from his seat and flung onto the pavement, backside first.

Tender looked up, searching for whatever that so forcefully pulled him out of the Viper2. He saw it. It was a man.

"Going somewhere?" Frankie Waters asked, looking down at the surprised Tender. Frankie had really strong arms, for the record. Jack and the Viper team minus Adrian laughed at Tender, purposely humiliating him as much as possible.

Meanwhile, while Tender rushed for his car as a distraction, Dick Lawson broke into a run across the street. Tender had told him to run, and Lawson was determined to make a break for it. His illegal covert operations had been discovered, and he had to run.

Jack did not think twice, after laughing at Tender, he ploughed into Bruce’s Viper2 and pulled it out of the sidewalk. The blood red car swerved out from behind the dark red Federal Marshals vehicle. Jack pulled the lever behind the wheel. When the Viper2 finally pulled out from the Federal Marshal vehicle’s view obstruction zone, it wasn’t fully blood red anymore. Bits of silver now filled the Viper2’s chassis. They started extending, covering the entire car, turning it silver. The same morphing sequence that applied to the Dodge Viper RT/10 Roadster applied to the Viper2 as well. In short, it meant the Federal Government had 2 Defenders. But the 2^nd Defender was more special. Young Bruce, not Julian Wilkes, created it.

In a flash, the blood red Viper2 morphed into the Defender2. Jack piloted it to the junction and swerved it to the right, going in the direction of Dick Lawson.

Lawson ran like Hell, pushing aside passers-by, chased by a silver vehicle out to destroy him. A clearing came, and now Jack had the whole road to himself. Lawson looked at the silver vehicle and knew he could not beat it on the road. Lawson turned into an alley. He stopped after running some distance. He had run into a dead end. Lawson turned immediately, but he was too late, the silver vehicle had turned into the alley and stopped at the mouth, its menacing eyes/headlights glaring at him. The car had him trapped.

Jack sat completely still in the Defender and looked at Lawson, wondering what to do with his father-in-law. He could easily disable him by using a static pulse, or he could frighten him out using the machine gun function. Jack figured he could just open the weapons portal first before deciding. He gave the switch a little turn.

Dick Lawson watched in cold sweat as some kind of arm disengaged itself from under the silver car’s driver side door. Lawson did not have any idea what was going to happen to him, but he knows that if this went on, he was done for. He also knew that this machine was probably bullet proof, but his panic-stricken instincts motioned his hand to reach for his 9 millimeter. Right after he pulled it, Dick knew he had done the absolute wrong thing in his life.

Jack saw the gun being drawn. He glanced down at the console to confirm his option. Then he pushed the trigger. A laser beam fired from the weapons portal, through the wet air, and dead center at Lawson’s gun hand. Lawson felt the beam sting his hand and released his grip on the weapon instinctively, but his reflexes also swung the gun away from him to the right corner of the alley. Lawson stood stroking his hand gently to ease the pain, all the while trying to peek through the tinted windshield of the vehicle. He was quite unsuccessful.

Jack rested his hand on the static pulse trigger. All he had to do now was press. But Jack had something else in mind. He lifted his finger off the trigger and drew his gun.

Dick Lawson was getting tired and impatient. It was a standoff, but the opposition was not doing anything! Dick thought of walking out of the alley. Who knows? It might just work.

The driver’s door opened. Dick’s eyes widened. A man stepped out. Dick recognised him. It was Jack Griffin. Dick was a trifle bit surprised, but he was suddenly filled with hope. He glanced at his gun lying at the alley corner to his right. Jack did not seem to notice it.

Jack levelled the gun on Dick’s heart.

"Look Jack, it doesn’t have to end this way. Let’s talk it out," Dick smiled nervously, but Jack wasn’t buying any of it. Instead he advanced towards Lawson.

"Pretty clever, Mr. Lawson. Get someone to do some dirty hacking and you end up at the bottom of the pay list, looking as innocent as ever. What’s more? Your right hand man takes all the blame for you. Nice," Jack synopsised. Dick realised his cover was indeed blown.

"Told you I’ll get you, didn’t I?" Jack continued, advancing as he talked. "What about my son?"

"Look Jack, I really didn’t mean it," Dick cried out as Jack’s gun barrel touched his forehead. "I am really, really-!" Dick was practically wetting his pants when Jack pulled the trigger.

"Click!"

Dick’s eyes fluttered open in an instant. There was no bullet. Dick grinned. He sent his fist into Jack’s stomach. Jack was sent reeling to the ground before the Defender’s fender. Despite the pain, he quickly moved away from the fender to lie on the ground, groaning. Dick turned and went to pick up his gun. He almost reached it when Jack’s voice shouted from behind him.

"Forget it Dick. You failed the test," Jack stated. Dick inhaled in realisation. He spun around in terror, just before Jack pulled the trigger from his spot on the ground.

The shot rang and echoed among the walls of the alley.

Dick Lawson was propelled backwards, shot at his left shoulder blade. He toppled on the alley ground, unconscious.

Catherine Lawson Griffin sat sobbing in front of the television set. She finally broke down when Jack fired the last shot. She was watching the whole scene live in her home. The video feed came live from Defender’s front fender camera, which Jack almost blocked when he was sent reeling onto the ground. Courtesy of the Jack’s so called Viper team. She definitely had mixed feelings. To put it simply, her husband shot her father. But in depth, Jack had every right to do so. Catherine cried even harder than before at this thought. She simply wished Jack to be home, and she had the feeling he would be, soon.

Jack Griffin parked the Viper2 along the pavement, then alighted. He walked towards the Viper team, minus Adrian. Adrian was back in the Complex doing the live video feed.

"As you requested, Jack. The entire encounter was fed to your wife back home," Cole said apologetically.

"Thanks," Jack replied simply.

"Go home to your wife, she needs you right now," Bruce advised.

"Yeah, I intend to do just that. Bruce, thanks for the car, I’ve had enough of it, I’m taking the slow ride this time," Jack said in his failed attempt to joke. Bruce simply gave him a pat on his back and smiled. Jack walked towards the Federal Marshals vehicle and talked to the driver inside. Moments later, he entered the car and it drove off.

"Hey, you guys," a voice came from behind. The team turned to face the handcuffed John Tender. They had almost forgot about him. "How about a race, eh? Mano a mano. I win, I go; you win, I’m yours. What do you say?"

Bruce paused, calculating the odds. He looked at Cole and Frankie for some, any, advise.

"I don’t like it, this guy’s seen the Defender operate many times," Frankie whispered. Cole had a different opinion though.

"You think you can do it?" Cole whispered. Bruce was at a lost. He had no plan of any sort, for most of his plans only came when he was in the action.

Tender gave him not much choice. There was a clatter as the handcuffs that held his hands together fell to the ground. He was free. Tender, the cunning former Outfits driver was already on the move. Running swiftly, he jumped into the driver seat of Bruce’s blood red Viper2. He was familiar with the vehicle, it was basically like his own. He hit the ignition button and the car came to live, silently, just like his own. He hit the accelerator and swerved the car out of the pavement space, towards the mountainous outskirts.

Bruce reached instinctively for the remote, then realised it was still with Jack, and Jack did not activate the automatic defenses before he left. He wanted to call Adrian to take over the Viper2 from the Complex, but the car could not be controlled unless it was morphed, and Bruce had absolutely no intention of morphing the car with a maniac in it.

Bruce ran towards Tender’s black Viper2 and hopped into it. He hit the ignition and took off after his own car, driven by a nutcase. Frankie almost ran after him, but Cole blocked him.

"Frankie, give the kid some room," Cole smiled calmly. "He’s gonna give Tender a run for his money."

"What makes you so sure?" Frankie asked, a bit puzzled.

"You’re forgetting something, Frankie," Cole pointed at the Viper RT/10 Roadster. "He could well have taken my car, but he didn’t. He wants to smash Tender up for good. And believe me, he’ll make it."

The 2 men stared into the mountainous horizon as the minute black Viper2 disappeared into it. The chase was on.

Bruce floored the accelerator pedal and the car propelled towards the red distinct Viper2. Bruce smiled when he saw a frustrated John Tender in his car. Bruce’s Viper had a security function. There’s a switch that had to be flicked before the Viper could go beyond 120mph. Bruce caught up in just a moment.

The black Viper aligned by the red one. Bruce could see Tender searching furiously for the switch that would result in the transformation from Viper to Defender. Bruce smiled, that was the beauty of the whole project. The switch was behind the steering wheel, it was the last place anyone would search at all, and it was hardly visible to any naked eye from within and without the car. Bruce hit the ‘cruise control’ button on the car console, a function that was present on all Viper2s. The car would cruise at its previous speed before the button was pressed, relieving the driver of having to press the accelerator all the time. But Bruce rarely used it, he preferred to vary his speed every now and then, he simply loved driving, not being driven.

Bruce made sure the car was cruising automatically, then suddenly leaped over into his own Viper, completely taking Tender by surprise. Bruce gave him no warning whatsoever and punched him in the right cheek. While Tender was distracted, Bruce reached for the car’s ‘cruise control’ button. Now both cars were on auto-drive.

Tender punched back, Bruce retaliated. Tender launched himself at Bruce, and in a moment of brilliance, Bruce stuck his leg into Tender’s chest and back flipped him, swinging him back into his own black Viper2.

Both men recovered. Tender shut off the cruise control option and pushed the car forward. Bruce climbed back into the driver’s seat and disengaged the cruise control as well. But he went further as to reach his right leg to the side of the acceleration pedal. He felt for the spot, and he pressed it. The speedometer started rising from 120mph, the security feature was off. Bruce made a gesture, and the car suddenly sprang forward from the 100mph region into the 200mph region, matching speed with the fleeing black Viper.

Under normal circumstances, Bruce would have dropped back till he was out of sight to do his ‘stuff’, but not this time, he did not want to take the risk of losing Tender, besides, Tender already knew of his ‘stuff’. Bruce felt for the lever from behind the steering wheel, than pulled it all the way down, launching the Viper into pursuit mode.

The red car started splitting, and in the same transformation from earlier on, the car started morphing, red hull slipping under, silver hull surfacing above. In 3.1 seconds flat, the Viper2 was no longer the Viper2, it was in its pursuit mode, called the Defender.

Bruce viewed from the driver’s seat as the hood started flipping around in strips towards him, turning silver as they went. The dashboard started changing as well. The mid-dashboard turned around, bringing along all the radio and air-conditioner controls. The mid-dashboard complete its morph to review 2 screens side by side. A bit below it, the mid-console, the controls folded into strips and retracted. A screen surfaced from inside to form the 3^rd screen. On the flat console that also held the gear control, 2 strips flipped around to review the weapons controls, 2 lines of triggers. Beside then were 4 buttons in a round shape that signified the selection cursor buttons. Above the 2 lines were 2 round switch side by side, for turning. Those were the hydraulic switches that controlled the weapons portals. The portals had different stages of extension, but usually the 1^st stage was enough. And that was about it. All that was needed to control the Defender, the weapon for police pursuit and capture.

Bruce prepared to open the left portal and fire something, anything, but before he could do anything the black Viper’s rear bumper split from the upper segment chassis downwards. A structure of some sort extended. It had 2 slides aimed downwards. Bruce could not make out what it was, then small little balls like the size of hockey pocks started dropping from the slides. Bruce focussed on one of them, then realised what they were: mines!

Bruce swerved immediately to evade the mines, running fully on instincts. He was initially successfully, but Tender too much an advantage over him, the mines were laid when Bruce wasn’t aware. The Defender’s front left wheel hit a mine. In a second, an explosion ripped the ground under the Defender, sweeping it off the ground, left side up. So much for being an unflippable car.

At 20 feet off the ground, Bruce turned the hydraulic lever and opened the right portal. He fired a missile. The missile hit the ground just as the Defender closed in towards the spot the missile just hit. The missile exploded upon impact, its force propelling the topsy-turvy Defender back into the air.

Bruce hit another trigger, activating the off-road function. The 4 wheels of the Defender expanded promptly to a typical off-road racer wheel size. The Defender landed down side up on the 4 big wheels. The wheels and their suspension systems absorbed all the shocks. Another detail though, the front left wheel was still intact despite the fact that it was at ground zero of a mine explosion equivalent to 10kg of C-4 explosive charges. 1kg was enough to rip a truck apart, which was what happened when Cole blew up Colonel Dekker’s truck years ago with the probe’s self-destruction device. The probe had a grand of C-4 in it.

Bruce did not retract the off-road wheels. Instead he floored the accelerator and drove the car on its highly steady wheels at 250mph towards the Viper2. He never got far. Bruce approached a bend and spotted the black dot that signified Tender’s Viper2 appeared near the mountainous horizon.

The Defender’s on-board computer screamed out loud in the enclosed Defender cockpit. Mines. Bruce swerved the Defender blindly, going fully on instincts again. This time, the mines were better positioned. A mine hit home, but the Defender’s versatile 4x4 wheels prevented a flip over. The force however made Bruce lose control. The Defender started hitting a chain of mines. The Defender finally succumbed to the combined force of the explosions, lifting the Defender right side up just as it rounded the left bend. The Defender did not fly too high, and Bruce had no time to react. The silver car crashed overturned onto the asphalt upside down and skidded to the left of the road till it ploughed into a pile of soil by the side of the road.

For a moment everything paused. Bruce sat hanging upside down. He was totally caught off guard by Tender’s mine trap.

"Damn! I didn’t get a chance to do anything!" Bruce muttered, barely controlling himself. He was too use to outsmarting others, but this time he really had to crack his brains. Then he had a plan. In the last 2 attempts, he did not have the time to react. All he needed was the time. If he were already ready for the fight, he would have the time!

Bruce smiled at his flash of brilliance. He hit a trigger on the 1^st line of controls. The mini-thruster to the left of the underside of the Defender erupted, pushing the Defender’s left side down very suddenly. The right side came up. The hull scratched against the asphalt as it skidded to get into place. In 3 seconds, the Defender was on all fours again. Bruce shut down the 4x4 function, shrinking the wheels back to their original sports-car size. He turned both hydraulic levers to the maximum.

A weapons portal extended from underneath both doors of the Defender. But instead of stopping at its usual place, the portals kept extending till they were 50cm each from the doors. They were the Defender’s wings now.

Bruce slammed the accelerator again, activating the V990 Viper engine under the hood. Thanks to Frankie, the Defender also housed another engine: the so-called DFN-990 invented by Frankie and Adrian. When in Defender mode, the special engine would fuse with the V990 to allow better speed and other better functions.

Bruce clutched the wheel steadily, taming the huge rising power curve of the Defender. The very first Defender was created with almost the same level of power curve. It was so huge that no normal driver could take the heat. And that was why Joe Astor was pulled into the mess.

The new Defender, Bruce’s Defender possessed a greater, not too much greater, but greater power curve. Bruce had thought of tuning it down, but he wanted it as security. If someone ever got hold of the Defender and got past the 120mph feature, chances were, the thief would not be able to handle the huge curve.

The Defender defied the laws of friction. It wasn’t moving on the road, it was practically flying just a few invisible millimeters above the ground. As the Defender approached the black Viper2, it expectedly started dropping its payload again. Left, right, left, right, left, left… Tender was good at the launches, it was strategic launching. But this time Bruce was ready, he focussed on the launches and swerved the car, a few tight turns could have lifted the car off the ground, but the extended weapons portals prevented that by skidding on the ground. Tender soon learned the game though. Suddenly the ground was swarmed with randomly launched mines. Bruce had not much choice but to execute his plan now, or lose the chance completely. But another thing was, Bruce was really ready this time.

He reached down and hit the triggers.

The weapons portals lit up brilliantly as the 1^st set of missiles let go from the launch tube. But the launches did not stop there. The tubes continued launching in what was known as the "multiple missile launch sequence". The missiles had a common goal: the black Viper2. But John Tender deserved a pat on his back. He would either brake left or right at the last possible moment to let the missiles overshoot, or push froward or pull back for the missiles to hit ground.

Under normal circumstances, no one would do that, they would try to veer to a side, which was exactly what Bruce wanted Tender to do. Once he was by the side, the Defender would have minimised the Viper2’s options at evasion, and once the sports car got onto grass, it would slow down, and the Defender could take it down in its off-road mode. However, Tender wasn’t buying the idea, and it was as if he was vying for something to appear, something that might help him. Bruce did not worry; the arsenal of warheads launched was far from depleted.

Bruce looked beyond the black Viper2 for a change, and spotted a bridge, a wooden bridge.

"Shit!"

That was what Tender had been vying for for the last few seconds since the missile launch. The missiles if timed correctly, would hit and blow up the bridge! And Tender would have already crossed the bridge, leaving behind the Defender!

Tender started crossing the bridge, all the while executing his timely braking maneuver. Bruce immediately hit the detonation trigger. There was a bright flash as the missiles exploded simultaneously. Bruce hit the brakes hard on instincts and the silver Defender screeched to a halt.

The cloud of white smoke dissipated and the Defender’s view cleared up. Bruce looked at the bridge. It was too late. The bridge was beyond rescue. At the end where Bruce was at, the bridge had already been blown apart by whichever missile that had hit home, and the river below was very much visible. Bruce quickly looked up to scan the surroundings for a trace of the black Viper2.

"Damn!"

The car was still alive and going. In fact it was escaping into the mountainous region. Bruce was at a loss. He had lost! He looked at the mountains-.

The mountains; Bruce had an idea. He had one last chance.

John Tender laughed out loud. So that was all the fuss, a silver vehicle, the ultimate law-enforcing weapon, outsmarted by him! Tender turned his head around for one final look at the Defender sitting helplessly at the far end of the river. Tender saluted mockingly, then turned back to face his freedom. However, when he turned back, he felt something amiss. Tender could not pin point it, so he put it aside. He simply laughed and enjoyed the wind carving its way through his hair, and the wide and open horizon few with flat grassland. It was true freedom…

Bruce was too busy to notice the salute from John Tender. He was typing furiously on the now extended Main Processing Unit Database (MPUD). He had a plan.

On top of the Defender, something had extended itself. It was a short structure, about 10cm long and 7cm in diameter. Its side was glowing.

John Tender kept travelling. A mountain came into view. John prepared to turn left according to the road. But his memory flashed back instinctively. He remembered his past experiences with the Michael Peyton/Joe Astor and his Defender. The silver car had some sort of false ally protection. It was a holoprojector. What if this mountain was a hologram? Tender flashed back quickly, then decided he saw no mountains when he rode to freedom. He smiled and gambled.

Bruce rose his head from the computer screens to watch the black Viper and the mountain. But he saw the Viper going straight instead of turning. His eyebrows rose.

Tender accelerated with great interest as the black Viper2 ploughed through the hologram, dissolving it. Tender laughed like a mad man. Outsmarting the silver car gave him immense pleasure. He saw another mountain coming up. Tender accelerated instead of slowing down. He reached it, then ploughed right through it again!

Bruce watched with intense interest as the Tender guessed his game. Bruce immediately reached for the keyboard He found the ‘delete’ button, and hit it lightly.

John Tender enjoyed every moment of this intense pleasure. He saw yet another mountain ahead of him. He floored the pedal this time. The black beauty hit 280mph, full speed. Tender laughed like a crazy psycho just out from the mental hospital. He wanted more speed!

The Viper2 sped along the road towards the mountain. There was a very wide sand patch before the mountain, about 50m wide. The car reached it, then went into it. The car started jerking violently on the uneven terrain. At 280mph, everything was magnified. Tender felt something wrong, no, he knew what was wrong! Holograms could not make a car jerk! This was real!

Tender hit the brakes, but there was no effect. He felt his stomach imploding. He looked around, he was no longer jerking, he was in fact in the air!

Bruce watched from the monitor as the probe fed back the details. Tender was too far to be watched from his place, so he launched the probe to watch the "event". Apparently Tender had fell for his trick and went straight ahead towards the mountain. The car hit a big fragment of rock tilted upwards. The whole car was sent flying upward on a parabolic curve towards the mountain.

Tender realised his game was up as the mountain surface closed in on him. He could no longer resist the urge, to scream!

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-!" Tender screamed like a lunatic, for the last time in his life as the car flew towards the mountain surface at 280mph. Tender’s scream was abruptly interrupted. The car crashed into the mountain and exploded into a mushroom of orange luminescence upon impact. There was not a chance for any survival.

Bruce watched intently as the mushroom of fire died out. He finally sat back to relax his pounding heart. The last few moments had been exciting. It was a challenge of a lifetime, and he pulled through nicely. For a moment, Bruce simply sat there admiring the scenic beauty of the Metro outskirts and the comfort of his own car. Then he reached down and tapped 2 triggers on the console.

On top of the Defender, the glowing holoprojector dimmed, then retracted into the hull of the Defender. The surroundings started trembling as if it were a blanket. Then they dissolved, revealing the real surroundings: the mountains. Bruce had hid them to trick Tender, and he succeeded, he outsmarted John Tender, the Outfits’ best yet.

A red light blinked. Bruce tapped another trigger. The probe had returned. He gave it the command to return to base, which was in the back of the Defender. Bruce laid back down on the seat before reaching for the morphing lever. He pushed it back up to its original position.

The Defender started breaking up as the silver hull retracted and the blood red skin resurfaced to take back their original positions. It was basically the morphing sequence, but reverse. In 3.1s, the Defender no longer existed, but in its place stood Bruce’s menacing trademark blood red Viper2. Bruce took a deep breadth of fresh outskirt air from his open-roofed Viper2. Then he smiled happily to no one in particular before pushing the Viper into a 180 degrees turn and cruise his way back to the city.

The night was young. The moon was bright for it was full moon. Down in the heart of Metro City, a couple was in the backyard of their house. It was dark, the lights were off. The couple was moving, dancing very slowly. They had the radio on, and were dancing to the tune of Chris deBurg’s "Missing You". It was an exceptionally soothing song, and it definitely fit the mood the couple, Jack and Catherine Griffin was in. They had their heads slumped on each other’s shoulder. And they danced slowly. While justice was done, nothing could be done to replace what they had lost in the name of justice. They would have to absorb the facts slowly…

It was peaceful darkness in the outskirts. The only source of light was the moon. To the horizon, a white light suddenly appeared, brightening, illuminating what appeared to be the shape of a tunnel after the road’s bend slightly to the right.

A flash of red burst into view and made its way towards the bend with its red taillights acting as afterglow. It negotiated the bend effortlessly, then disappeared into the tunnel. The white light dimmed after it. Soon it was darkness again. The flash of red was no doubt one of the Vipers of the Viper Team, only them could be so legendary.

It was their trademark to uphold law in a silent way, but an undeniable way. As long as it exists, it shall prowl the streets in the never-ending pursuit for justice, armed with its 21^st century technology. No one shall know their secret origins, but shall know their existence as officially disavowed. Its undeniable presence shall and always will be felt. It is the perfect weapon for an imperfect future.

It is: Viper.

Written by:

Frankie the Viper Fanatic

Completed on:

Monday, December 14, 1998

11:46 AM