Foreword:
I am a firm believer that the 1980's was the era of great TV shows. It was the era of Reaganomics. It was a time of tension, where the Soviets and the Americans vied for World Domination as a Super Power. It was a time of peril, where one wrong decision, one wrong move could and would have resulted in nuclear war. Missiles were pointed at the US, and missiles were pointed at the Former USSR. Intelligence and espionage was at an all- time high, and military spending grew beyond all proportions. During this time, the fever of Patriotism was at an all-time high. And TV executive and the writer community sat up and took notice.
Boy did they take notice.
Pretty soon, they had all manner of semi-militant shows pumping out to feed the patriotic crowd. Shows such as The A-Team, Knight Rider, Miami Vice, Airwolf, Blue Thunder, Magnum P.I., Street Hawk, MacGyver, The Greatest American Hero, all had one theme in common: Get The Bad Guy. And the public ate it up wholesale. It was exactly what they wanted to see: there was a bad guy (a symbolization for the Soviets), there was a plot of the bad guys oppressing the public wherever they were (a symbolization of the American public), and then there were the good guys (American heros), who habitually came along as the underdog to the scene, and in a glorious all- out violent battle, opened up barrels of whoop-ass and lay the smack-down on the bad guys rather handily. For 10 or so years, the producers and writers of TV shows enthralled the general public with this simple formulae. It worked time and time again, as evidenced by the long syndication runs of the above-mentioned TV shows. Whether it was a team of wise-cracking, overconfident (and seemingly out-of-shape elite commandos) soldiers-for-hire, or one man and his high-tech and self-aware car against the world, or good-looking vice cops (who wore clothes way beyond their pay grade), or a team of nobodies who had sole claim to a state-of-the-art helicopter capable of taking on the Soviets by themselves, or the aerial division of the police who had an ultra-mean helicopter, or a lone Private Investigator who drove a Ferrari (and looked really cool in the process), or a police officer who had been chosen to test out a prototype motorcycle that was souped-up beyond all belief (can you see the trend here?), or a man who used his intelligence to beat his adversaries (and could make anything out of anything and had a cool theme song to help the show along), or the wonkee University Professor with the big 'fro who was also a part- time super hero with no clue on how to work his super-hero suit (but did the job AND had an award-winning musical theme composed by David Bowie to help it along), never mattered. The public simply loved these shows. Even with their sometimes-cheesy plots (ok, they were quite cheesy), they nevertheless got the heart pumping and the kids going nuts.
The late 1980's to 1990's saw a transitional phase. The public's appetite had started to change. Reagen was leaving office, the Soviet's were having bad cash-flow troubles, America's military spending had spiralled wildly out of control, and Bill Gates woke up one morning and said, "Wait a minute…why don't I copy Macintosh's idea of a User Interface and name it Windows?" Not only that, but the computer revolution was about to take off into outer space…literally. It was also a time where the public had gotten a little tired of the ever-reminiscent theme found in TV shows. Thus it was a time for change, and most TV producers were ever-so-quick to pick up on that. This could be evidenced by the TV show Quantum leap. This show was an elaborate show that mated computer effects and a dramatic storyline. It was a show of suspense, intrigue, and science. It was also a stellar hit. But it was also a transitional show. No longer were TV shows using the 80's formulae of running gun battles, and good guys laying the smack- down on the bad guys. The TV shows of the Quantum Leap era focused on substantial story line, intelligent plots, and well-rounded characters. Following in Quantum Leap's stellar footprints was Star Trek: The Next Generation. This show left behind Captain Kirk's shoot first, shoot later, shoot some more, and then ask questions when everyone was dead or unconscious (though Captain Kirk was wayyyyy cool!). It too, followed Quantum Leap's example of substance, and gave the public entertainment that was full of story, sustenance, morals, and sometimes a good ol' the-hell- with-it, just shoot'em (read: Borg).
But then something interesting happened. The formulae just seemed too good. The public clamoured for more. "No," they said to plots that involved mainly action to carry the story, and "yes" they said to drama plots. The stories of the mid-1990's took on a new plot. They were (for the most part) filled with drama and angst, intrigue and mystery. They were styled after real-life situations, and no longer the unbelievable scenarios of the 80's TV shows (I mean, c'mon! Did the members of the A- Team ever HIT anyone?? And just how many times could the Airwolf team sneak into the Soviet Union, lay the smack-down, and get out all in one piece?). The latter part of the 1990's had evolved into shows like 90210 (if you don't know what those numbers stand for, you need help – either that or you're REALLY old), the X-Files, Degrassi High, Baywatch, Law and Order, etc… No longer were shows about good guys and bad guys. They were mostly about mystery, drama, relationships, broken hearts and yes, SEX. Never before did TV show so much skin (or so little clothing). Never before did TV approach violent subject matters with such casual aplomb, and (slightly off topic, but nevertheless important), never before did TV carry a message that would begin to devastate the young female population: you had to be VERY skinny and VERY good-looking to make it anywhere in the world. Plus, smoking was now THE in thing to do. Perhaps I digress here, but the mid 1990's were a turning point for TV shows. The 1980's formulae was not applicable anymore. Though some producers tried, most shows based on that old formulae floundered and died a gruesome death. Simply put, very little of the general public was interested in that formulae anymore. There were, of course, some die-hard attempts to bring some shows back to life – such as Knight Rider, or its Off-spring, Team Knight Rider. But that gurgled to death, more so because of REALLY BAD scripting and storyline than public interest. Thus, the 80's movement was dead…or so it seemed. But in the late 1990's the 90's formula would be given its last heave-ho. And to be honest, not everyone was enamoured with the power-cord intro of 90210.
The mid 1990's saw an unprecedented event take place – the near death of the automotive maker Dodge. Now, as many of old fossils know (read: anyone born before the 80's), Dodge has been around for a long, long, long time. Dodge produced vehicles that numbered among heavy hitters like Ford. And yet, something happened to that big company, something that caused its future to become washed in peril. During the mid 1900's, the automotive market began flooding with both domestic and foreign cars. During this time of automotive history, many car companies and self-respected car guru's laughed off the cars that were coming from Japan. These small, lightweight cars, with engines that were not naturally aspirated (did not have nearly the power that American cars were capable of), frames that were far more vulnerable than American cars, and bodies that crushed like tin- cans compared to American cars, were the laughing stock of the automotive industry. To think that these little cars could even begin to compare with names such as Mustang, or Camero, or Firebird, or Trans-Am, was ridiculous and stuff made of meaningless dreams. Dodge, being firmly entrenched in the American dream, shook their collective heads and laughed at the over- seas belligerency. They firmly believed that the age of 'hot-rodding' would never die, of big and large block engines that roared when you commanded them to, of cars that encased the driver in layers upon layers of metal. In their vanity, they missed the subtle signs of a shifting consumer market, and were left holding the short stick. The auto industry seemingly transformed overnight, and by the time Dodge realized that they were dead- wrong in their strategy, they had been left behind, choking on the dust cloud of the other automakers, and in serious financial trouble.
The mid 1990's saw the consumer based switching to cars made by Japan. As each day went by, the names Honda, Acura, Toyota, Nissan, and Lexus became more prevalent. More air-emission taxes, coupled with increasing gasoline prices, caused the majority consumer base to begin looking for fuel- efficient cars. Near the end of the 1990's, Dodge found itself without a customer base. Other automakers had started making smaller and more compact cars, just like the Japanese. The consumer base also began switching to the smaller cars. No longer did the public want large, powerful cars that guzzled gas. And because of that decision, Dodge was left floundering in the wake of the automobile revolution. Dodge came perilously close to selling itself off. In a last ditch effort to keep it from drowning, Dodge stubbornly took its large American car designs and revolutionized it. They needed something unnatural, something from left field, something that the public had never seen before, and something that was all American – big, powerful, and bad.
They succeeded. Thus was born the 'Viper'.
The Viper was a car that simply floored the collective public. Its shape and design caused a stir of envy among car enthusiasts. The fact that this car became an overnight sensation is, in itself, quite interesting. The Viper RT/10's design was, by many racing standards, quite flawed. It's incredibly powerful engine outputted extremely high levels of raw torque, such that it easily caused massive fishtailing in hard power-up situations. The car itself, given its lack of mechanical assistance in handling control, was brutal to drive. Its coefficient air-friction factor was large – meaning that it burned a tremendous amount of fuel due to air drag. But even with all its deficiencies, the Viper seemingly carved out a large following of enthusiasts soon after its unveiling. Its popularity soared beyond all expectations. The Dodge Viper first began selling for approximately $65,000 Canadian, which at the time was approximately $50,000 American. But in no time at all, the Viper sales figures had rocketed into the low $100,000. Its success was so astounding, Dodge decided to boost it even more by creating a syndication that centered solely around its star vehicle. It was called 'Viper'.
The TV show Viper centered around a core of special policed officers, who were tasked with the daunting duty of bring their city back from the brink of criminal infestation. To assist them in their goal, they were given a prototype urban assault vehicle named 'The Defender. The Defender was to be an ultra-sophisticated combat vehicle that hid within the anonymous shell of a normal street car: the Viper. At will, the team of officers could transform the vehicle into a state-of-the-art assault platform in order to deal with extremely dangerous situations. Unfortunately for the syndication, it was clichéd as it sounded. This formulae had been tried an untold number of times in the past (Knight Rider, Team Knight Rider, Airwolf, Blue Thunder, Street Hawk, etc…). Even with the backing of Dodge, the syndication lost steam only a few years after its beginning.
Many fans, like myself, wanted to see this show succeed. To be honest, I am a fan of the 1980's. I still enjoy seeing the old formula of good guys and their high-tech vehicles laying the smack-down on the baddies. But in the 1990's and early 2000's, sophistication is the name of successful TV shows (that and a mixture of pure sex appeal). To me, the level of story- telling in the Viper shows lacked interest. It seemed that the writers and the producers attempted to use special effects and the Viper to make the show popular. But, as most people know from watching the movies, that does not always work. There are only so many times you can watch the Viper on TV before it becomes old hat. So it was of no surprise to find the show cancelled after a few seasons. That being said, the TV show 'Viper' was just that: a TV show. It was created by the dreams and aspirations of people like you and I. And as long as there are people who dream, there will always be storytellers to enthral.
-WL
P.S. This is a work of fiction. Characters of Viper are not mine, nor do I claim any rights. Because this is a work of fiction, I have taken certain liberties with real world 'stuff'. Please don't roll your eyes in disbelief…too much. Enjoy.
METRO POLICE DEPARTMENT
CONFIDENTIAL TRANSCRIPT OF INTERNAL RECORDS
Contents: Transcript of Inquiry
Sergeant Franklin S. Waters
May 14, 2002
Re: death of Detective Aster and Westlake
This transcript is the property of the Metro police department. Unauthorized reproduction of any or all internal contents carries severe penalties.
Direct all inquiries to:
Commanding Officer
Internal Affairs Division
Metro City Police Department
PO Box 3746
Metro City, DC 48374-9574
Telephone: (847) 444-8574
Telefax: (472) 444-2481
General Inquiry: Sergeant Franklin S. Waters 14/05/02
Case: Inquiry into the death of Detectives Joe Aster and Cameron Westlake
Description of inquiry: Subject (Sgt. Waters) was interrogated for 48 hours before being allowed to proceed to an inquiry. Inquiry was recorded on DVD-RAM Video Disc.
Description of image: Subject (Waters) seated at table in Inquiry Room 4-ab, Metro HQ. Image includes the Commanding Officer of IA (COIA) , Investigating Officer of IA (IOIA), Commanding Officer of Metro City Police Department (COMCPD), Liason Sherman Catlett (FBI), and subject with full body shot. Subject has on formal uniform, is dishevelled in appearance, and exhibits signs of severe depression.
Purpose of interrogation: Clarification of Subject role in a classified operation, in which partners Aster and Westlake were killed in the line of duty (file #KIA 76299473). Subject waived his right to an attorney.
Disposition of case: Case ongoing.
Transcript of: May 22(1)
COIA: Sergeant. Please state your name for the record.
SUBJ: (unresponsive)
COIA: Sergeant?
SUBJ: Franklin S. Waters. Serial Number 35421.
COMPD: Could you please identify yourself for the record?
SUBJ: I'm thirty-five years old. Sergeant, Special Projects Division. Metro City Police Department.
COIA: Sergeant Waters, as you know, you are not being charged with a crime at this time.
SUBJ: Yes.
FBI: I know this must be real hard for you.
SUBJ: Yes.
COIA: Sergeant. I would like you to start from the beginning.
SUBJ: On March 22, 2002, we (partners Astor and Westlake) were alerted by an intelligence source that a local military R&D installation had been broken into. Our team, at the behest of the local FBI authority, began a preliminary investigation into the matter.
P.S. This is a work of fiction. Characters of Viper are not mine, nor do I claim any rights. Because this is a work of fiction, I have taken certain liberties with real world 'stuff'. Please don't roll your eyes in disbelief…too much. Enjoy.
-WL
1.1.1.1 WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE
2 Chapter 1
Frankie was carefully inserting the last of the wires into the Defender's new diagnostic board. The work was painstakingly slow, partly because of the Defender's computer system that regulated the complicated engine, but also because the engine was so customized, it went beyond any spec he had ever worked on. He awkwardly reached down to his waist pocket and fished out the diagnostic PDA. The Viper's engine generated an incredible amount of PSI, so much that Frankie wanted to check every single step of the modification. If he didn't, if he made one small error (which he never did), the Defender would blow the hood 200 meters into the sky, and the explosion from the engine would likely cook his two partners in an instant, armour plating or not.
The Ion Generator system was a new addition to the Viper's high-tech engine. The real reason for the upgrade was that the Team was beginning to find themselves in too many prolonged high-speed pursuits. High-speed pursuits were among the most deadly hostile situations police officers could encounter. Next to domestic violence, a high-speed police chases more often than not ended in the deaths of innocent bystanders. Even worse, many high-speed pursuits were the cause of countless vehicular wrecks, some taking the lives of the felons, and at times even the lives of the police officers. Though these speed chases may seem like vivid excitement when shot from a TV camera 200 ft up, they are nothing but accidents waiting to happen. Many end in tragedy, often taking the lives of those who did not deserve to die.
Frankie hoped, sincerely hoped, that this new unit would allow the Defender to overpower the running vehicles quickly and efficiently. God knew they didn't need anymore civilian deaths. The last death had been a nine-year old girl, who had been crushed upon impact while sitting in front of an ice- cream parlour. It could have been prevented, if the Defender had had a little more speed in her. The range of its electro-pulses was short, and Astor and Westlake hadn't been able to get the range until too late.
But the new unit he was testing might be the answer to that. The concept had been an accumulation of ECM technology deployed by the military. The concept of Electronic Counter-Measures had been around for a very long time. In fact, a large percentage of war in the modern day was fought with the aid of computers. Computers aided in the planning of scenarios (they could calculate more scenarios per second (given a set of parameters) than a human), they supplied an overwhelmingly large percentage of intelligence, then more-or-less drove the war machines (guided by humans), then calculated the trajectory of missiles (or in the case of the new 'bulpbubs' developed by the US Military – calculated exactly where to explode a 20 mm grenade with deadly accuracy and shrapnel effect), and with the aid of nightvision, or thermal vision, or infrared, kill an enemy. ECM was the direct method of combat against computers in the battle-field. Its purpose was to bombard computers with more information than they could handle. In effect, it would 'confuse' computer-driven equipment long enough for the attackers to accomplish their missions.
The Ion Generator that had been installed inside the Viper's engine bay was an offshoot of this technology. The IG was a miniature EM machine. EM (or Electro Magnetic radiation) was as old as nuclear bombs – older even. When nuclear weapons were first invented, they conceived the term 'dirty radiation'. The term Dirty Radiation can be attributed to the spectrum of radiation that 'polluted' left behind after a nuclear explosion. (though present day nuclear energy is marginally cleaner, a nuclear fallout would be no less deadly). One band in particular resulted from a nuclear explosion. This spectrum of radiation existed within the EM band – the Electromagnetic Band. An Electromagnetic Magnetic Pulse (as it became known) had the ability to permanently disrupt any mechanism that used capacitors as part of its technology. Since nearly all circuit boards rely on capacitors as part of their makeup, an since circuit boards are an integral part of our lives, one intense EMP World-Wide would plunge the world into chaos – theoretically.
However, the IG unit was a slightly modified version of an EMP generator. Firstly, it carried its own internal Plutonium power source. Thus there was no need for the Viper's own batteries to supply the charging power. It also shortened the waiting period between Pulses considerably. Secondly, the IG emitter was directional, meaning that it had a specific field of fire. What Frankie and the testing team hoped was that the IG unit could replace the Viper's Twin Electro Pulse Modulator's. To be sure, the EPM's had been a terrific success, but over time, it had proven to be too cumbersome to use. The twin EPM's had to be manually aimed, and doing so during a high-speed pursuit was ultimately very dangerous. Not only that, but there was also a chance of the Pulse missing it's intended target. A quick-reaction driver could swerve their vehicle out of the way as soon as they saw the pulse being emitted. Basically, the IG unit was designed to target a car's braking system. The drive-by-wire system had been in use for almost 5 years now. Presently, most cars were built upon the drive-by- wire system. No longer did cars have to depend on hydraulic lines, or machines to regulate pressure and apply power - computer chips and sensors did all that. Cars benefited from the new system by becoming significantly lighter. The Viper Team benefited from it because of the IG unit. The EMP pulse was specifically designed to fry the computer system of a car instantly. All cars were designed so that in the event of a computer failure, the brake system would mechanically lock-up, stopping the car until such time as the system could be repaired. The beauty of the IG system was that its range was only limited by its vast power supply, and its firing time was negligible. For example, the driver of the Defender only needed to point the car in the general direction. The passenger could aim the emitter and fire an EMP at the target. And since Electrical Radiation travelled at the speed of light, the pulse would hit the target instantly and stop it dead in its tracks.
In the beginning, the Viper Team had refused to test the prototype. A power source that was based on nuclear energy didn't sit well with the team. The Defender was situated within a civilian centre. One accident, one crack of the casing could potentially expose both the team and bystanders to dangerous levels of radiation. Though they had been repeatedly told that the casing was heavily armoured, they were nevertheless quite pensive about its energy source. But in the end they had been ordered to field-test the unit. Unfortunately, they had not counted on taking the Defender into a classified military installation and letting the techs dismantle the Defender piece by piece before putting it all back together again. A sense of unease still lingered with the team, knowing that the Defender's specs were in some military database. The Defender had been a well-kept secret until now, and the thought of others having access to its secrets did not sit well with the team. But there had been little choice. The IG system needed to be field-tested, and because of its highly-classified nature, the Viper Team fit the profile nicely.
It was almost comical, being blindfolded and driven to who-knew-where, then guarded 24 hours by guards with automatic rifles. To Frankie it had been no big deal, but seeing his partners react to the situation had left him in stitches. Both Astor and Westlake (especially Westlake) did not like being blindfolded. They liked being guarded by soldiers even less. Both Astor and Westlake were stubborn, determined people, and they had had a rough time of it. It didn't help that the head technician was an incredibly attractive woman that, though she wore a military mechanic's uniform, couldn't hide her very feminine figure. The way she kept glancing at Astor, and the way his tongue kept on lolling out of his mouth, set Westlake on edge, and put her in a foul mood.
'They should just boink and get it over with,' he thought, pushing the 'run' button on his touch-sensitive PDA.
Letting the little computer run it's tests, he rested his head against the cool non-skid metal tread. He was very tired, and the inside of his eyelids felt like sandpaper. The installation of the IG unit had to be monitored constantly. It was up to him to make sure that the unit functioned in harmony with the Viper's other components. It was a lot of work, and Frankie felt very tired.
*Beep* The small computer was finished.
Frankie snapped out of his daydream and uncoupled the connector before storing the cables. It was the last check he had to make. The computer reported 100% success, meaning that the power source was good to go. Rolling up the cables, he heaved himself to his feet and wandered over to the kitchenette. Pouring himself an extra-strong brew of coffee, he nabbed a day-old doughnut and walked over to the couches.
Sometimes he thought the layout of their headquarters was kinda weird. Hidden within the bowls of the city, the Team's headquarters was a heavily- modified subway hub. The Viper rested on a turnstile in the centre of the room. At various points along the walls were entrance tunnels that led to various unfinished subway routes, allowing quick and clandestine access to all parts of the city. Situated between the various tunnel entrances were a kitchenette, a relaxation centre, an expensive communications centre, and a repair bay. Built into the far wall were self-sufficient living quarters that tapped water directly from the city's water mains.
'Kinda like the Batcave,' Frankie thought in good humour. He stretched out on one of the couches, taking a sip of his strong coffee.
"Yo Frankie!"
His eyes snapped open, and his hand flailed wildly…right into the full cup of coffee.
Had it been there.
"Whoa there Kimosabe!" Astor said, grinning as he held the cup of coffee out of the way.
Frankie rubbed at his sleepy eyes, then stared blearily at Astor.
Astor wore a tattered pull-over, reminiscent of his days spent living in the shadows. A former criminal whom had his memory erased against his will, he had turned against his own after witnessing his lover murdered by the very men he had led. Ironically, the tragedy caused him to use his vaunted criminal skills to exact revenge for the brutal slaying. After a long sojourn, Astor had been 'talked into' becoming a part of the Special Projects Division of the Metro Police Force.
His long, serious face regarded Frankie as he handed him a warm cup of 'liquid octane'.
"You look like you could get some more rest," he commented.
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you ought to try my job," Frankie muttered. He took a gulp of the coffee, then spat it out.
"What the hell-? You trying to kill me?!!" he sputtered, regarding the cup in his hands with disbelief.
"What? I though it was good stuff!" Astor defended, brushing strands of hair out of his face. The lean man slowly backed away, consciously making sure his gun was readily accessible.
Frankie glared at him. "This battery acid? Here, you try it."
"Ummm…well…" Astor backed away slowly.
"Hey you guys, what's going on?"
Frankie turned to see Westlake approaching them. Brown, reddish hair framed an attractive face. Her blue eyes were crinkled, matching the wry grin on her face.
"Joe just tried to kill me with this coffee."
She took on an expression of surprise. "You let Joe make the coffee-?"
"Hey! I was only trying to be nice," Joe said defensively, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, well, next time leave the coffee machine alone. Just cause we're police officers doesn't mean occupational hazard includes coffee too. Don't wreck the coffee. It's sacrilege," Frankie said, draining the acrid liquid down the kitchen sink.
Joe threw up his hands in disgust. "That's the last time I do anything nice for you."
Westlake, an amused grin on her face, tried to change the subject. "So Frankie, how'd the date go?"
Frankie stopped and stared at her, then turned a betrayed look on Joe. "How could you!"
It was Joe's turn snicker. "It…er…slipped."
"C'mon Frankie. You've been after Cindy for nearly a month now. That's a pretty long time, even for you. Really, how'd it go?"
Surprisingly, Frankie looked down at his toes and shuffled his feet. "It…ummm…well…"
"Frankie?" The work came out as a surprised question.
"I didn't go," he confessed.
"What?!!" both Westlake and Joe shouted.
"You've been seeing her for a month, and then you ditch her on your first big date?" Westlake said in disbelief.
Frankie sighed. "I was under orders from Catlett to finish the diagnostics on the IG."
Joe and Heather looked upon Frankie with pity.
BEEP
A loud signal announced an incoming signal. Monitors around the communications centre began coming alive. As one, the team headed toward the horseshoe-shaped console.
"Repeat. All units, officers down. Officers down. We have a Code 1 situation at the corner of 5th and Bankmore. Suspects heavily armed. Multiple shots fired. Civilian casualties. We need additional support -"
A frantic, panic-filled voice cut in.
"Get us some help now, godammit! We need fucking backup now! 6 guys with fucking rifles are shooting the shit outta us! They're armoured head to toe. Jesus! Get us some help!"
Sound of gunshots, mixed in with the screaming of people could be heard in the background.
"Let go!" Astor said, racing for the driver's door.
Frankie leaped for the Operation's seat at the communications centre. He settled in as the powerful thrum of the Viper's engine filled the room. Donning a cordless headset, he glanced at the Viper and saw Westlake at work in the passenger seat. Displays popped up on the monitors, showing system check after system check scroll past the screen. He kept an eye on the information as it was relayed to him from the Viper's main computer.
"Frankie, comm. check," Westlake's voice echoed in his ear.
"I gotcha Westlake. Joe, take tunnel 5. It will get you within 3 blocks."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the Viper, with a roar of pure unadulterated power, shot forth from the turnstile, down the ramp, and plunged into the entrance tunnel.
Frankie didn't watch the speedy exit. He was too busy calling up the information on the Code 1. Data flowed into the mainframes from the Police computers. He cycled through the available monitoring cameras placed strategically through the streets.
"Oh my god," he whispered.
I am a firm believer that the 1980's was the era of great TV shows. It was the era of Reaganomics. It was a time of tension, where the Soviets and the Americans vied for World Domination as a Super Power. It was a time of peril, where one wrong decision, one wrong move could and would have resulted in nuclear war. Missiles were pointed at the US, and missiles were pointed at the Former USSR. Intelligence and espionage was at an all- time high, and military spending grew beyond all proportions. During this time, the fever of Patriotism was at an all-time high. And TV executive and the writer community sat up and took notice.
Boy did they take notice.
Pretty soon, they had all manner of semi-militant shows pumping out to feed the patriotic crowd. Shows such as The A-Team, Knight Rider, Miami Vice, Airwolf, Blue Thunder, Magnum P.I., Street Hawk, MacGyver, The Greatest American Hero, all had one theme in common: Get The Bad Guy. And the public ate it up wholesale. It was exactly what they wanted to see: there was a bad guy (a symbolization for the Soviets), there was a plot of the bad guys oppressing the public wherever they were (a symbolization of the American public), and then there were the good guys (American heros), who habitually came along as the underdog to the scene, and in a glorious all- out violent battle, opened up barrels of whoop-ass and lay the smack-down on the bad guys rather handily. For 10 or so years, the producers and writers of TV shows enthralled the general public with this simple formulae. It worked time and time again, as evidenced by the long syndication runs of the above-mentioned TV shows. Whether it was a team of wise-cracking, overconfident (and seemingly out-of-shape elite commandos) soldiers-for-hire, or one man and his high-tech and self-aware car against the world, or good-looking vice cops (who wore clothes way beyond their pay grade), or a team of nobodies who had sole claim to a state-of-the-art helicopter capable of taking on the Soviets by themselves, or the aerial division of the police who had an ultra-mean helicopter, or a lone Private Investigator who drove a Ferrari (and looked really cool in the process), or a police officer who had been chosen to test out a prototype motorcycle that was souped-up beyond all belief (can you see the trend here?), or a man who used his intelligence to beat his adversaries (and could make anything out of anything and had a cool theme song to help the show along), or the wonkee University Professor with the big 'fro who was also a part- time super hero with no clue on how to work his super-hero suit (but did the job AND had an award-winning musical theme composed by David Bowie to help it along), never mattered. The public simply loved these shows. Even with their sometimes-cheesy plots (ok, they were quite cheesy), they nevertheless got the heart pumping and the kids going nuts.
The late 1980's to 1990's saw a transitional phase. The public's appetite had started to change. Reagen was leaving office, the Soviet's were having bad cash-flow troubles, America's military spending had spiralled wildly out of control, and Bill Gates woke up one morning and said, "Wait a minute…why don't I copy Macintosh's idea of a User Interface and name it Windows?" Not only that, but the computer revolution was about to take off into outer space…literally. It was also a time where the public had gotten a little tired of the ever-reminiscent theme found in TV shows. Thus it was a time for change, and most TV producers were ever-so-quick to pick up on that. This could be evidenced by the TV show Quantum leap. This show was an elaborate show that mated computer effects and a dramatic storyline. It was a show of suspense, intrigue, and science. It was also a stellar hit. But it was also a transitional show. No longer were TV shows using the 80's formulae of running gun battles, and good guys laying the smack- down on the bad guys. The TV shows of the Quantum Leap era focused on substantial story line, intelligent plots, and well-rounded characters. Following in Quantum Leap's stellar footprints was Star Trek: The Next Generation. This show left behind Captain Kirk's shoot first, shoot later, shoot some more, and then ask questions when everyone was dead or unconscious (though Captain Kirk was wayyyyy cool!). It too, followed Quantum Leap's example of substance, and gave the public entertainment that was full of story, sustenance, morals, and sometimes a good ol' the-hell- with-it, just shoot'em (read: Borg).
But then something interesting happened. The formulae just seemed too good. The public clamoured for more. "No," they said to plots that involved mainly action to carry the story, and "yes" they said to drama plots. The stories of the mid-1990's took on a new plot. They were (for the most part) filled with drama and angst, intrigue and mystery. They were styled after real-life situations, and no longer the unbelievable scenarios of the 80's TV shows (I mean, c'mon! Did the members of the A- Team ever HIT anyone?? And just how many times could the Airwolf team sneak into the Soviet Union, lay the smack-down, and get out all in one piece?). The latter part of the 1990's had evolved into shows like 90210 (if you don't know what those numbers stand for, you need help – either that or you're REALLY old), the X-Files, Degrassi High, Baywatch, Law and Order, etc… No longer were shows about good guys and bad guys. They were mostly about mystery, drama, relationships, broken hearts and yes, SEX. Never before did TV show so much skin (or so little clothing). Never before did TV approach violent subject matters with such casual aplomb, and (slightly off topic, but nevertheless important), never before did TV carry a message that would begin to devastate the young female population: you had to be VERY skinny and VERY good-looking to make it anywhere in the world. Plus, smoking was now THE in thing to do. Perhaps I digress here, but the mid 1990's were a turning point for TV shows. The 1980's formulae was not applicable anymore. Though some producers tried, most shows based on that old formulae floundered and died a gruesome death. Simply put, very little of the general public was interested in that formulae anymore. There were, of course, some die-hard attempts to bring some shows back to life – such as Knight Rider, or its Off-spring, Team Knight Rider. But that gurgled to death, more so because of REALLY BAD scripting and storyline than public interest. Thus, the 80's movement was dead…or so it seemed. But in the late 1990's the 90's formula would be given its last heave-ho. And to be honest, not everyone was enamoured with the power-cord intro of 90210.
The mid 1990's saw an unprecedented event take place – the near death of the automotive maker Dodge. Now, as many of old fossils know (read: anyone born before the 80's), Dodge has been around for a long, long, long time. Dodge produced vehicles that numbered among heavy hitters like Ford. And yet, something happened to that big company, something that caused its future to become washed in peril. During the mid 1900's, the automotive market began flooding with both domestic and foreign cars. During this time of automotive history, many car companies and self-respected car guru's laughed off the cars that were coming from Japan. These small, lightweight cars, with engines that were not naturally aspirated (did not have nearly the power that American cars were capable of), frames that were far more vulnerable than American cars, and bodies that crushed like tin- cans compared to American cars, were the laughing stock of the automotive industry. To think that these little cars could even begin to compare with names such as Mustang, or Camero, or Firebird, or Trans-Am, was ridiculous and stuff made of meaningless dreams. Dodge, being firmly entrenched in the American dream, shook their collective heads and laughed at the over- seas belligerency. They firmly believed that the age of 'hot-rodding' would never die, of big and large block engines that roared when you commanded them to, of cars that encased the driver in layers upon layers of metal. In their vanity, they missed the subtle signs of a shifting consumer market, and were left holding the short stick. The auto industry seemingly transformed overnight, and by the time Dodge realized that they were dead- wrong in their strategy, they had been left behind, choking on the dust cloud of the other automakers, and in serious financial trouble.
The mid 1990's saw the consumer based switching to cars made by Japan. As each day went by, the names Honda, Acura, Toyota, Nissan, and Lexus became more prevalent. More air-emission taxes, coupled with increasing gasoline prices, caused the majority consumer base to begin looking for fuel- efficient cars. Near the end of the 1990's, Dodge found itself without a customer base. Other automakers had started making smaller and more compact cars, just like the Japanese. The consumer base also began switching to the smaller cars. No longer did the public want large, powerful cars that guzzled gas. And because of that decision, Dodge was left floundering in the wake of the automobile revolution. Dodge came perilously close to selling itself off. In a last ditch effort to keep it from drowning, Dodge stubbornly took its large American car designs and revolutionized it. They needed something unnatural, something from left field, something that the public had never seen before, and something that was all American – big, powerful, and bad.
They succeeded. Thus was born the 'Viper'.
The Viper was a car that simply floored the collective public. Its shape and design caused a stir of envy among car enthusiasts. The fact that this car became an overnight sensation is, in itself, quite interesting. The Viper RT/10's design was, by many racing standards, quite flawed. It's incredibly powerful engine outputted extremely high levels of raw torque, such that it easily caused massive fishtailing in hard power-up situations. The car itself, given its lack of mechanical assistance in handling control, was brutal to drive. Its coefficient air-friction factor was large – meaning that it burned a tremendous amount of fuel due to air drag. But even with all its deficiencies, the Viper seemingly carved out a large following of enthusiasts soon after its unveiling. Its popularity soared beyond all expectations. The Dodge Viper first began selling for approximately $65,000 Canadian, which at the time was approximately $50,000 American. But in no time at all, the Viper sales figures had rocketed into the low $100,000. Its success was so astounding, Dodge decided to boost it even more by creating a syndication that centered solely around its star vehicle. It was called 'Viper'.
The TV show Viper centered around a core of special policed officers, who were tasked with the daunting duty of bring their city back from the brink of criminal infestation. To assist them in their goal, they were given a prototype urban assault vehicle named 'The Defender. The Defender was to be an ultra-sophisticated combat vehicle that hid within the anonymous shell of a normal street car: the Viper. At will, the team of officers could transform the vehicle into a state-of-the-art assault platform in order to deal with extremely dangerous situations. Unfortunately for the syndication, it was clichéd as it sounded. This formulae had been tried an untold number of times in the past (Knight Rider, Team Knight Rider, Airwolf, Blue Thunder, Street Hawk, etc…). Even with the backing of Dodge, the syndication lost steam only a few years after its beginning.
Many fans, like myself, wanted to see this show succeed. To be honest, I am a fan of the 1980's. I still enjoy seeing the old formula of good guys and their high-tech vehicles laying the smack-down on the baddies. But in the 1990's and early 2000's, sophistication is the name of successful TV shows (that and a mixture of pure sex appeal). To me, the level of story- telling in the Viper shows lacked interest. It seemed that the writers and the producers attempted to use special effects and the Viper to make the show popular. But, as most people know from watching the movies, that does not always work. There are only so many times you can watch the Viper on TV before it becomes old hat. So it was of no surprise to find the show cancelled after a few seasons. That being said, the TV show 'Viper' was just that: a TV show. It was created by the dreams and aspirations of people like you and I. And as long as there are people who dream, there will always be storytellers to enthral.
-WL
P.S. This is a work of fiction. Characters of Viper are not mine, nor do I claim any rights. Because this is a work of fiction, I have taken certain liberties with real world 'stuff'. Please don't roll your eyes in disbelief…too much. Enjoy.
METRO POLICE DEPARTMENT
CONFIDENTIAL TRANSCRIPT OF INTERNAL RECORDS
Contents: Transcript of Inquiry
Sergeant Franklin S. Waters
May 14, 2002
Re: death of Detective Aster and Westlake
This transcript is the property of the Metro police department. Unauthorized reproduction of any or all internal contents carries severe penalties.
Direct all inquiries to:
Commanding Officer
Internal Affairs Division
Metro City Police Department
PO Box 3746
Metro City, DC 48374-9574
Telephone: (847) 444-8574
Telefax: (472) 444-2481
General Inquiry: Sergeant Franklin S. Waters 14/05/02
Case: Inquiry into the death of Detectives Joe Aster and Cameron Westlake
Description of inquiry: Subject (Sgt. Waters) was interrogated for 48 hours before being allowed to proceed to an inquiry. Inquiry was recorded on DVD-RAM Video Disc.
Description of image: Subject (Waters) seated at table in Inquiry Room 4-ab, Metro HQ. Image includes the Commanding Officer of IA (COIA) , Investigating Officer of IA (IOIA), Commanding Officer of Metro City Police Department (COMCPD), Liason Sherman Catlett (FBI), and subject with full body shot. Subject has on formal uniform, is dishevelled in appearance, and exhibits signs of severe depression.
Purpose of interrogation: Clarification of Subject role in a classified operation, in which partners Aster and Westlake were killed in the line of duty (file #KIA 76299473). Subject waived his right to an attorney.
Disposition of case: Case ongoing.
Transcript of: May 22(1)
COIA: Sergeant. Please state your name for the record.
SUBJ: (unresponsive)
COIA: Sergeant?
SUBJ: Franklin S. Waters. Serial Number 35421.
COMPD: Could you please identify yourself for the record?
SUBJ: I'm thirty-five years old. Sergeant, Special Projects Division. Metro City Police Department.
COIA: Sergeant Waters, as you know, you are not being charged with a crime at this time.
SUBJ: Yes.
FBI: I know this must be real hard for you.
SUBJ: Yes.
COIA: Sergeant. I would like you to start from the beginning.
SUBJ: On March 22, 2002, we (partners Astor and Westlake) were alerted by an intelligence source that a local military R&D installation had been broken into. Our team, at the behest of the local FBI authority, began a preliminary investigation into the matter.
P.S. This is a work of fiction. Characters of Viper are not mine, nor do I claim any rights. Because this is a work of fiction, I have taken certain liberties with real world 'stuff'. Please don't roll your eyes in disbelief…too much. Enjoy.
-WL
1.1.1.1 WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE
2 Chapter 1
Frankie was carefully inserting the last of the wires into the Defender's new diagnostic board. The work was painstakingly slow, partly because of the Defender's computer system that regulated the complicated engine, but also because the engine was so customized, it went beyond any spec he had ever worked on. He awkwardly reached down to his waist pocket and fished out the diagnostic PDA. The Viper's engine generated an incredible amount of PSI, so much that Frankie wanted to check every single step of the modification. If he didn't, if he made one small error (which he never did), the Defender would blow the hood 200 meters into the sky, and the explosion from the engine would likely cook his two partners in an instant, armour plating or not.
The Ion Generator system was a new addition to the Viper's high-tech engine. The real reason for the upgrade was that the Team was beginning to find themselves in too many prolonged high-speed pursuits. High-speed pursuits were among the most deadly hostile situations police officers could encounter. Next to domestic violence, a high-speed police chases more often than not ended in the deaths of innocent bystanders. Even worse, many high-speed pursuits were the cause of countless vehicular wrecks, some taking the lives of the felons, and at times even the lives of the police officers. Though these speed chases may seem like vivid excitement when shot from a TV camera 200 ft up, they are nothing but accidents waiting to happen. Many end in tragedy, often taking the lives of those who did not deserve to die.
Frankie hoped, sincerely hoped, that this new unit would allow the Defender to overpower the running vehicles quickly and efficiently. God knew they didn't need anymore civilian deaths. The last death had been a nine-year old girl, who had been crushed upon impact while sitting in front of an ice- cream parlour. It could have been prevented, if the Defender had had a little more speed in her. The range of its electro-pulses was short, and Astor and Westlake hadn't been able to get the range until too late.
But the new unit he was testing might be the answer to that. The concept had been an accumulation of ECM technology deployed by the military. The concept of Electronic Counter-Measures had been around for a very long time. In fact, a large percentage of war in the modern day was fought with the aid of computers. Computers aided in the planning of scenarios (they could calculate more scenarios per second (given a set of parameters) than a human), they supplied an overwhelmingly large percentage of intelligence, then more-or-less drove the war machines (guided by humans), then calculated the trajectory of missiles (or in the case of the new 'bulpbubs' developed by the US Military – calculated exactly where to explode a 20 mm grenade with deadly accuracy and shrapnel effect), and with the aid of nightvision, or thermal vision, or infrared, kill an enemy. ECM was the direct method of combat against computers in the battle-field. Its purpose was to bombard computers with more information than they could handle. In effect, it would 'confuse' computer-driven equipment long enough for the attackers to accomplish their missions.
The Ion Generator that had been installed inside the Viper's engine bay was an offshoot of this technology. The IG was a miniature EM machine. EM (or Electro Magnetic radiation) was as old as nuclear bombs – older even. When nuclear weapons were first invented, they conceived the term 'dirty radiation'. The term Dirty Radiation can be attributed to the spectrum of radiation that 'polluted' left behind after a nuclear explosion. (though present day nuclear energy is marginally cleaner, a nuclear fallout would be no less deadly). One band in particular resulted from a nuclear explosion. This spectrum of radiation existed within the EM band – the Electromagnetic Band. An Electromagnetic Magnetic Pulse (as it became known) had the ability to permanently disrupt any mechanism that used capacitors as part of its technology. Since nearly all circuit boards rely on capacitors as part of their makeup, an since circuit boards are an integral part of our lives, one intense EMP World-Wide would plunge the world into chaos – theoretically.
However, the IG unit was a slightly modified version of an EMP generator. Firstly, it carried its own internal Plutonium power source. Thus there was no need for the Viper's own batteries to supply the charging power. It also shortened the waiting period between Pulses considerably. Secondly, the IG emitter was directional, meaning that it had a specific field of fire. What Frankie and the testing team hoped was that the IG unit could replace the Viper's Twin Electro Pulse Modulator's. To be sure, the EPM's had been a terrific success, but over time, it had proven to be too cumbersome to use. The twin EPM's had to be manually aimed, and doing so during a high-speed pursuit was ultimately very dangerous. Not only that, but there was also a chance of the Pulse missing it's intended target. A quick-reaction driver could swerve their vehicle out of the way as soon as they saw the pulse being emitted. Basically, the IG unit was designed to target a car's braking system. The drive-by-wire system had been in use for almost 5 years now. Presently, most cars were built upon the drive-by- wire system. No longer did cars have to depend on hydraulic lines, or machines to regulate pressure and apply power - computer chips and sensors did all that. Cars benefited from the new system by becoming significantly lighter. The Viper Team benefited from it because of the IG unit. The EMP pulse was specifically designed to fry the computer system of a car instantly. All cars were designed so that in the event of a computer failure, the brake system would mechanically lock-up, stopping the car until such time as the system could be repaired. The beauty of the IG system was that its range was only limited by its vast power supply, and its firing time was negligible. For example, the driver of the Defender only needed to point the car in the general direction. The passenger could aim the emitter and fire an EMP at the target. And since Electrical Radiation travelled at the speed of light, the pulse would hit the target instantly and stop it dead in its tracks.
In the beginning, the Viper Team had refused to test the prototype. A power source that was based on nuclear energy didn't sit well with the team. The Defender was situated within a civilian centre. One accident, one crack of the casing could potentially expose both the team and bystanders to dangerous levels of radiation. Though they had been repeatedly told that the casing was heavily armoured, they were nevertheless quite pensive about its energy source. But in the end they had been ordered to field-test the unit. Unfortunately, they had not counted on taking the Defender into a classified military installation and letting the techs dismantle the Defender piece by piece before putting it all back together again. A sense of unease still lingered with the team, knowing that the Defender's specs were in some military database. The Defender had been a well-kept secret until now, and the thought of others having access to its secrets did not sit well with the team. But there had been little choice. The IG system needed to be field-tested, and because of its highly-classified nature, the Viper Team fit the profile nicely.
It was almost comical, being blindfolded and driven to who-knew-where, then guarded 24 hours by guards with automatic rifles. To Frankie it had been no big deal, but seeing his partners react to the situation had left him in stitches. Both Astor and Westlake (especially Westlake) did not like being blindfolded. They liked being guarded by soldiers even less. Both Astor and Westlake were stubborn, determined people, and they had had a rough time of it. It didn't help that the head technician was an incredibly attractive woman that, though she wore a military mechanic's uniform, couldn't hide her very feminine figure. The way she kept glancing at Astor, and the way his tongue kept on lolling out of his mouth, set Westlake on edge, and put her in a foul mood.
'They should just boink and get it over with,' he thought, pushing the 'run' button on his touch-sensitive PDA.
Letting the little computer run it's tests, he rested his head against the cool non-skid metal tread. He was very tired, and the inside of his eyelids felt like sandpaper. The installation of the IG unit had to be monitored constantly. It was up to him to make sure that the unit functioned in harmony with the Viper's other components. It was a lot of work, and Frankie felt very tired.
*Beep* The small computer was finished.
Frankie snapped out of his daydream and uncoupled the connector before storing the cables. It was the last check he had to make. The computer reported 100% success, meaning that the power source was good to go. Rolling up the cables, he heaved himself to his feet and wandered over to the kitchenette. Pouring himself an extra-strong brew of coffee, he nabbed a day-old doughnut and walked over to the couches.
Sometimes he thought the layout of their headquarters was kinda weird. Hidden within the bowls of the city, the Team's headquarters was a heavily- modified subway hub. The Viper rested on a turnstile in the centre of the room. At various points along the walls were entrance tunnels that led to various unfinished subway routes, allowing quick and clandestine access to all parts of the city. Situated between the various tunnel entrances were a kitchenette, a relaxation centre, an expensive communications centre, and a repair bay. Built into the far wall were self-sufficient living quarters that tapped water directly from the city's water mains.
'Kinda like the Batcave,' Frankie thought in good humour. He stretched out on one of the couches, taking a sip of his strong coffee.
"Yo Frankie!"
His eyes snapped open, and his hand flailed wildly…right into the full cup of coffee.
Had it been there.
"Whoa there Kimosabe!" Astor said, grinning as he held the cup of coffee out of the way.
Frankie rubbed at his sleepy eyes, then stared blearily at Astor.
Astor wore a tattered pull-over, reminiscent of his days spent living in the shadows. A former criminal whom had his memory erased against his will, he had turned against his own after witnessing his lover murdered by the very men he had led. Ironically, the tragedy caused him to use his vaunted criminal skills to exact revenge for the brutal slaying. After a long sojourn, Astor had been 'talked into' becoming a part of the Special Projects Division of the Metro Police Force.
His long, serious face regarded Frankie as he handed him a warm cup of 'liquid octane'.
"You look like you could get some more rest," he commented.
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you ought to try my job," Frankie muttered. He took a gulp of the coffee, then spat it out.
"What the hell-? You trying to kill me?!!" he sputtered, regarding the cup in his hands with disbelief.
"What? I though it was good stuff!" Astor defended, brushing strands of hair out of his face. The lean man slowly backed away, consciously making sure his gun was readily accessible.
Frankie glared at him. "This battery acid? Here, you try it."
"Ummm…well…" Astor backed away slowly.
"Hey you guys, what's going on?"
Frankie turned to see Westlake approaching them. Brown, reddish hair framed an attractive face. Her blue eyes were crinkled, matching the wry grin on her face.
"Joe just tried to kill me with this coffee."
She took on an expression of surprise. "You let Joe make the coffee-?"
"Hey! I was only trying to be nice," Joe said defensively, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, well, next time leave the coffee machine alone. Just cause we're police officers doesn't mean occupational hazard includes coffee too. Don't wreck the coffee. It's sacrilege," Frankie said, draining the acrid liquid down the kitchen sink.
Joe threw up his hands in disgust. "That's the last time I do anything nice for you."
Westlake, an amused grin on her face, tried to change the subject. "So Frankie, how'd the date go?"
Frankie stopped and stared at her, then turned a betrayed look on Joe. "How could you!"
It was Joe's turn snicker. "It…er…slipped."
"C'mon Frankie. You've been after Cindy for nearly a month now. That's a pretty long time, even for you. Really, how'd it go?"
Surprisingly, Frankie looked down at his toes and shuffled his feet. "It…ummm…well…"
"Frankie?" The work came out as a surprised question.
"I didn't go," he confessed.
"What?!!" both Westlake and Joe shouted.
"You've been seeing her for a month, and then you ditch her on your first big date?" Westlake said in disbelief.
Frankie sighed. "I was under orders from Catlett to finish the diagnostics on the IG."
Joe and Heather looked upon Frankie with pity.
BEEP
A loud signal announced an incoming signal. Monitors around the communications centre began coming alive. As one, the team headed toward the horseshoe-shaped console.
"Repeat. All units, officers down. Officers down. We have a Code 1 situation at the corner of 5th and Bankmore. Suspects heavily armed. Multiple shots fired. Civilian casualties. We need additional support -"
A frantic, panic-filled voice cut in.
"Get us some help now, godammit! We need fucking backup now! 6 guys with fucking rifles are shooting the shit outta us! They're armoured head to toe. Jesus! Get us some help!"
Sound of gunshots, mixed in with the screaming of people could be heard in the background.
"Let go!" Astor said, racing for the driver's door.
Frankie leaped for the Operation's seat at the communications centre. He settled in as the powerful thrum of the Viper's engine filled the room. Donning a cordless headset, he glanced at the Viper and saw Westlake at work in the passenger seat. Displays popped up on the monitors, showing system check after system check scroll past the screen. He kept an eye on the information as it was relayed to him from the Viper's main computer.
"Frankie, comm. check," Westlake's voice echoed in his ear.
"I gotcha Westlake. Joe, take tunnel 5. It will get you within 3 blocks."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the Viper, with a roar of pure unadulterated power, shot forth from the turnstile, down the ramp, and plunged into the entrance tunnel.
Frankie didn't watch the speedy exit. He was too busy calling up the information on the Code 1. Data flowed into the mainframes from the Police computers. He cycled through the available monitoring cameras placed strategically through the streets.
"Oh my god," he whispered.