tonight.”
“George is right,” the General said. “We need to nab them before they scatter.”
“Maybe we should let the army know about the apps, and let them go in there,” Terry said.
“We can’t trust them,” Private Brown said. “Believe me. Somebody will tip off Saladin. They’ll cut their chips out and disappear.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Malcolm said. “They still might figure that out on their own, you know. If the chips become stationary all of a sudden, look out.”
“Yeah, already been thinking about that,” Frank said. “They haven’t yet. I see chips moving all over that damn park.”
“They figured out they’d better not move that semi-truck,” Jerry said. “Look, they’re driving it further back into the park.”
“Biding their time,” General Hogan said. “You still see Saladin?”
“Yeah, he’s still around that outcropping. A bunch of people are gathered around him.”
“How many are moving around?” the General asked.
“Enough,” Frank said. “Saladin is moving around quite a bit himself. He’s probably scared to death, trying to plan a way to get outta Dodge.”
“Let’s get loaded up now,” George said. “We might be chasing him across the desert instead of hitting him with missiles now. The jig’s up, and he knows it.”
“Yeah,” Jerry said. “Let’s go.”
***
Scott and Howard looked at each other, hearts racing as the siren sounded for a moment, then stopped.
“What do we do?” Howard asked. The siren sounded again. A short blip this time.
“They see those two bikers,” Scott said.
The crack of a rifle shot split the silence. Howard and Scott looked at each other.
“The twins!” Scott cried, as a pistol shot rang out. The two men broke into a run, shotguns in hand. Then there was another rifle shot. As they got near they could hear one of the twins crying.
“Dammit,” Scott said. They went through the hole in the barn and approached slowly.
“Dead cop,” Howard whispered, nodding towards the drive. The boots were visible.
“Blake, wake up,” cried Kerry from inside the rig.
“Blake got hit,” Scott whispered, tears running down his cheeks. They peeked around the door of the barn. Both cops were lying in the driveway.
“Kerry, what happened?” Scott asked.
“The police man was yelling at us to move the motor home. He had his pistol pointed at us. Blake had the rifle in his lap, in the front seat. He pulled the trigger and the bullet went through the wall.”
“Did the other cop get on the radio after that?” Howard asked.
“No,” Kerry said, crying. He ran over and shot Blake. Then I picked up the rifle and shot him. I’m sorry, Scotty.”
Scott looked at Blake. He got shot in the chest, right below the neck.
“He’s gone?” Howard asked.
“Yeah,” Scott said, wiping the tears away.
“They made this rig,” Howard said. “They’ll be looking for it.”
“Actually, they probably didn’t,” Scott said. “They didn’t get into the barn, and they can’t see the license plate in the front. They might have given a description, but there’s a million of these cheap Class Cs out there, especially now.”
“Well, we’d better get the hell out of here fast,” Howard said. “Their friends will be along shortly.”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “Help me with Blake.”
The two men lifted Blake and gently carried him into the barn, laying him down against the wall.
“I’ll go move the cop car out of the way,” Scott said. “You and Kerry get the bikers out of the driveway, and wheel those hogs into the ditch.”
“Okay, Scotty,” Howard said. “C’mon, Kerry, I need your help.”
“Okay, Howard,” he said.
Scott backed the cop car up and parked it in the ditch along the side of the road. He walked over to the first cop, furthest from the motor home. The cop moaned.
“That one’s still alive,” Howard said.
“Not for long,” Scotty said. He dragged the
“George is right,” the General said. “We need to nab them before they scatter.”
“Maybe we should let the army know about the apps, and let them go in there,” Terry said.
“We can’t trust them,” Private Brown said. “Believe me. Somebody will tip off Saladin. They’ll cut their chips out and disappear.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Malcolm said. “They still might figure that out on their own, you know. If the chips become stationary all of a sudden, look out.”
“Yeah, already been thinking about that,” Frank said. “They haven’t yet. I see chips moving all over that damn park.”
“They figured out they’d better not move that semi-truck,” Jerry said. “Look, they’re driving it further back into the park.”
“Biding their time,” General Hogan said. “You still see Saladin?”
“Yeah, he’s still around that outcropping. A bunch of people are gathered around him.”
“How many are moving around?” the General asked.
“Enough,” Frank said. “Saladin is moving around quite a bit himself. He’s probably scared to death, trying to plan a way to get outta Dodge.”
“Let’s get loaded up now,” George said. “We might be chasing him across the desert instead of hitting him with missiles now. The jig’s up, and he knows it.”
“Yeah,” Jerry said. “Let’s go.”
***
Scott and Howard looked at each other, hearts racing as the siren sounded for a moment, then stopped.
“What do we do?” Howard asked. The siren sounded again. A short blip this time.
“They see those two bikers,” Scott said.
The crack of a rifle shot split the silence. Howard and Scott looked at each other.
“The twins!” Scott cried, as a pistol shot rang out. The two men broke into a run, shotguns in hand. Then there was another rifle shot. As they got near they could hear one of the twins crying.
“Dammit,” Scott said. They went through the hole in the barn and approached slowly.
“Dead cop,” Howard whispered, nodding towards the drive. The boots were visible.
“Blake, wake up,” cried Kerry from inside the rig.
“Blake got hit,” Scott whispered, tears running down his cheeks. They peeked around the door of the barn. Both cops were lying in the driveway.
“Kerry, what happened?” Scott asked.
“The police man was yelling at us to move the motor home. He had his pistol pointed at us. Blake had the rifle in his lap, in the front seat. He pulled the trigger and the bullet went through the wall.”
“Did the other cop get on the radio after that?” Howard asked.
“No,” Kerry said, crying. He ran over and shot Blake. Then I picked up the rifle and shot him. I’m sorry, Scotty.”
Scott looked at Blake. He got shot in the chest, right below the neck.
“He’s gone?” Howard asked.
“Yeah,” Scott said, wiping the tears away.
“They made this rig,” Howard said. “They’ll be looking for it.”
“Actually, they probably didn’t,” Scott said. “They didn’t get into the barn, and they can’t see the license plate in the front. They might have given a description, but there’s a million of these cheap Class Cs out there, especially now.”
“Well, we’d better get the hell out of here fast,” Howard said. “Their friends will be along shortly.”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “Help me with Blake.”
The two men lifted Blake and gently carried him into the barn, laying him down against the wall.
“I’ll go move the cop car out of the way,” Scott said. “You and Kerry get the bikers out of the driveway, and wheel those hogs into the ditch.”
“Okay, Scotty,” Howard said. “C’mon, Kerry, I need your help.”
“Okay, Howard,” he said.
Scott backed the cop car up and parked it in the ditch along the side of the road. He walked over to the first cop, furthest from the motor home. The cop moaned.
“That one’s still alive,” Howard said.
“Not for long,” Scotty said. He dragged the
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