The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network.

THE BIG O:

ACT 35

ROGER THE DARK KNIGHT

Chapter Ten: Misdirection

Back at the white tower that was Roger's home, the negotiator, Angel, and Dorothy were in the robotics bay where the android girl received her repairs and maintenance. Norman had taken off his jacket and was crouched over a table where one of the diving suit style robots had been disassembled. "Fascinating," the old man muttered as he peered through a jeweler's lens.

"What? Is there some kind of booby trap?" Roger asked. "Are these things more advanced than we thought?"

"Actually Master Roger they are less advanced than we thought," Norman replied as he stood up and allowed the eyepiece to fall into his palm. "It's no wonder they were given submachine guns. Their targeting system is so primitive they would never hit anything with semiautomatics."

"Beck gets me and Big O out of here and then attacks the place with robots that can't get the job done so what's the point?" Roger asked as he scratched the side of his head. "There must be some reason why he did this. He may be an idiot, but at least he's a clever one. Norman, arrange for these robots to be hauled away as scrap the first chance you get. I don't want any bombs or hidden bugs in them to compromise us."

"A prudent course of action sir," the old man nodded.

"Speaking of prudent courses, I should probably be on my way," Angel sighed. "If Beck knows I'm here, none of us are safe."

"If this is the best Beck's got, he's no danger," Roger sneered.

"It's not just Beck, Roger," Angel shook her head. "The Union and the Paradigm Company are looking for me too. If Beck knows where I am it won't take long for someone else to figure it out. It's best that I keep moving."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Roger asked in concern.

"Beck caught me napping but it's easier to defend my hiding place than yours," Angel assured him. "The trick is getting there in one piece."

"Angel, I…" Roger paused as he looked into the blonde's beautiful eyes. "I'm afraid if you go, I'll never see you again."

Angel laughed bitterly but at least she was smiling. "That's probably for the best Roger. You said it yourself: I'm nothing but trouble."

"Why is everybody after you?" Roger asked as his composure slipped.

"Roger if I told you that, everybody would be after you too," Angel shook her head sadly. "It's bad enough that the wrong people know you own the megadeus. Do you really want another target painted on your back?"

"Sorry Angel, that's not good enough," Roger shook his head. "I need a reason. What is this about? Why are Lester Young, Jason Beck and who knows who else after you? After last night you owe me that much."

"Very well," Angel bowed her head. "Do you remember how I was last year when we first met? I was looking for lost Memories."

"Clearly," Roger smiled wryly. "That's one of the reasons it's so hard to trust you even today."

"First impressions are so important, aren't they?" she smiled sheepishly.

"Don't change the subject," Roger grunted. "You were saying?"

Angel's courage seemed to leave her as she looked down at the floor before looking back at Roger with a frightened expression. "Back at the beach… you… you asked where I got my information, remember?"

"Yes…" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I… I found them," Angel gulped. "The Memories. Gordon Rosewater showed them to me. They're stored in a massive computer system called the Repository of Lost Memories. There's a control system that can erase or restore everyone's Memories. There's a surveillance system that monitors nearly everyone in the city."

"Am I supposed to believe any of this nonsense?" he frowned.

"I pray to God you don't," Angel stammered. "Because it's the truth, and the truth can destroy you."

"How can it destroy me?" Roger asked her.

"Please don't ask me anymore questions!" she sobbed into her hands. "Please! I've told you too much already! I've got to get away from here before I cause any more trouble!"

Roger let out a long sigh. "If I forbid you to go you'll sneak away the first chance you get won't you?"

"Probably," she muttered as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

"All right, if you're going to sneak out anyway you might as well do it right," Roger shrugged. "Try to keep in touch, okay?"

"Will do."

In the meantime Jason Beck and Lester Young were looking at a set of blueprints that had been unrolled on the executive's desk.

"Do you really expect me to devote the resources and manpower to build such an extravagance?" Lester Young growled.

"Only if you want Angel Rosewater," Beck smiled.

"Rosewater?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" the canary colored criminal shrugged innocently. "One of the last things old Gordon did before he went totally senile was to adopt her into the family. I guess that makes her a stockholder in the company, huh?"

One of the telephones on the desk rang and Young impatiently snatched it up. "Yes, didn't I tell you that I wasn't to be disturbed? What was that? Well, that's a different matter entirely. Yes, most satisfactory. Intercept Smith's car and bring the woman to me immediately. Try not to harm Smith if you can manage it. I'll wait for your call." He hung up the phone with a hint of satisfaction.

"Good news?" Beck asked.

"Yes, I've had Roger Smith's residence under surveillance ever since last night," Young smirked. "My operatives inform me Mister Smith has just left his home in his car and there's a woman riding in the passenger seat. Her hair is honey blonde and she is described wearing a pink jacket. It would appear that I don't have to build you your toy after all, Mister Beck."

"What?" Beck squeaked.

Roger drove through the streets of Paradigm City past decrepit buildings and over cracked and bumpy streets. He glanced in the rearview mirror and squinted through his sunglasses. "Uh-oh," he said to his passenger. "Company. They didn't waste any time did they?"

"There are two more cars ahead of us," his passenger said as she pointed.

"I see them. Hang on," he grunted as he turned into a parking lot and drove out the other side. He opened a panel that was between their seats and flicked a switch. "Let's see how they like the oil slick."

Black liquid oozed out of a concealed nozzle in the back of the car. When two gray sedans roared out the parking lot to chase them they lost their traction and spun out of control.

"We'll use Houston Street and see if we can get to the freeway," Roger said as they turned another corner. "Houston is in pretty good shape. We should be able to make some speed going that way."

Two more black sedans managed to glide through the oil slick until enough traction to drive safely.

"Roger…"

"I see them!"

Back at Paradigm Headquarters Lester Young was talking on the phone. "I see. He was ready for you? Keep them in sight while I call out the reserves."

"Problem?" Beck smiled mockingly.

"Not now, Mister Beck," Young snarled. "Confound it," he muttered under his breath as he pushed a button on his telephone. "Hello! Yes, this is Lester Young. You are to intercept Roger Smith's car and detain his passenger. She is a known agent of the Union and has information that is vital to the safety of the city! You are not to harm her under any circumstances, is that clear?" He paused for a moment and then continued. "Yes, I would prefer that Mister Smith not be harmed, but I understand that circumstances might make that impossible. You may place him under arrest if you want to. I have no doubt that his evasive driving will more than justify it. I will decide whether or not to clear him of any charges that may spring up but I must insist that you capture that woman! That is not negotiable do you hear?

"Who are you talking to?" Beck asked.

"Not that it's any of your business Mister Beck, but I was talking to the Military Police," Young grunted. "Mister Smith may be able to elude a handful of agents but not even he can evade a citywide manhunt."

"Ooh!" Beck squealed childishly. "Someone's in trouble…"

Meanwhile at Military Police Headquarters a man who appeared to be wearing a motorcycle helmet and a gas mask entered the office of Colonel Dan Dastun, temporary head of the Military Police. What Colonel Dastun didn't know was that this was the same man who spoke to Angel in the Repository of Lost Memories six-hundred and sixty-six floors below the city.

"Don't androids know that you're supposed to knock Inspector R Fredrick O'Reilly?" the grizzled officer muttered.

"Indeed we do," the android inspector replied in a calm reasonable voice. "But I just got ahold of some information that might be important to you. The home office has just authorized the apprehension of Roger Smith and a female companion. They believe that the woman with Smith might be one of the last agents of the Union that haven't been apprehended yet."

"What?" Dastun rose from his desk.

"I had assumed that you'd want to supervise the manhunt yourself," O'Reilly said. "Roger Smith is a friend of yours and I assumed that you don't want him injured. Sometimes officers can get overzealous when carrying out their orders."

Dastun narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You also know that Roger is more likely to surrender to me than anybody else is that it? You have me just dancing on your strings don't you? It's bad enough that the home office sent you to spy on me and the department, but now you have me doing your dirty work! Since everything you're seeing and hearing is being recorded for the suits back at Paradigm Headquarters you can tell them to go screw themselves!"

"Does this mean that you aren't going to supervise the manhunt?" O'Reilly asked.

"No of course not," Dastun growled as he put his hat on over his bald scarred dome. "I'm going to be a good little soldier and follow orders just like they want me to and I'm going to see if I can get Roger out of this in one piece while I'm doing it! That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Soon Roger and his passenger were roaring down the street with both civilian and military police sedans hot on his trail. "These guys are hard to lose," the negotiator grunted. Roger hit a button on his dashboard as they approached an intersection and made a tight turn. A cable and grappling hook shot out to the left from under the Cadillac and wrapped itself around a girder of a building under construction, giving Roger the leverage he needed to complete the turn. The pursuing vehicles managed to match the turn and continue pursuit. One or two of them slid, but the drivers were able to get them under control and keep going. "Cop suspension, cop steering, cop brakes, cop power, those cars got it all," Roger muttered. "Including drivers that were actually trained to do this. I don't think we're going to…"

"Roger!" the girl in the passenger seat cried. "Look out!"

In front of them was a roadblock. Five police cars were blocking the street.

"Hang on," he grunted as he pushed a button on his dashboard marked 'Turbo'. The flames of four rockets underneath Roger's car were briefly seen as the Cadillac soared into the air and jumped the cars blocking the road as if it had driven up a ramp. Roger and his passenger rocked in their seats as the car landed on the other side and kept on going.

"Okay I think that's enough," Roger said as he turned a corner and drove onto the highway. "I'm going to have to straighten this out at Military Police Headquarters but I before that I can drop you off."

Roger picked up some more military police cars but that didn't bother him. Neither did the wooden barriers forcing traffic off the freeway or the construction and 'Bridge Out' signs that were placed before the large gap where the overpass was still under construction. Roger pressed the button marked 'Turbo' again and the black Cadillac soared over the gap to land safely on the other side. Fortunately, their pursuers had enough sense to slow down and stop before they tried to follow.

When the black Cadillac returned to Roger's neighborhood he was surprised to see an assortment of military police vehicles surrounding the former bank building he had made into his home.

Colonel Dastun was there with a megaphone. "Roger Smith!" he shouted. "Come out of the vehicle with your hands up! And bring the girl!"

Roger grunted as a large vehicle bearing a howitzer pulled up in back of them, blocking Roger and his passenger into a one block section of the street. "Looks like they got us," he sighed. "Come on, let's see what they want."

"Come on, Roger, don't be stupid!" Dastun shouted through the bullhorn. "If you be a good boy your lawyer should have you out in no time!"

"Colonel, they're coming out," R Fredrick O'Reilly informed him.

When Roger and the woman got out Dastun's men pointed their rifles at them.

"That shouldn't be necessary men," Dastun said as he handed his megaphone to O'Reilly and strode purposefully in Roger's direction.

"How long am I going to have to keep my hands up?" Roger smirked when Dastun got up to him.

"Just until I'm sure that none of my men will shoot you smart guy," Dastun snarled. "You really put your foot in it this time Roger! I'll do what I can for you but I don't see how I'm going to help Angel." He turned and looked at the woman in the pink jacket standing on the other side of the car. "Huh? R Dorothy? Why is she wearing a pink jacket and a wig?"

"It's not my idea to always wear black," the android girl said. "Roger's fashion sense is very tacky. Can I help it if I want to try something different?"

"Is there a law against wearing a blonde wig Dastun?" Roger smirked.

"What the?" Dastun gasped before he started laughing. "You rascal! This is the craziest stunt you've pulled yet! This is just like that witness we had to protect ten years ago!"

"Roger, in light of recent events, I do not think that blondes have more fun," the android girl said as she removed the blonde wig from her head. "I will have be content to remain a redhead."

Meanwhile on the other side of town, an old man on a motorcycle let his lovely passenger out of the sidecar. "Have a safe journey Miss Angel," the one eyed valet smiled.

"You too Norman," Angel grinned before she drew the hood of her black cape over her head. "Take care of Roger for me.

Back at Lester Young's office the portly executive received a phone call. "Yes Colonel Dastun this is Lester Young," he said. "You have them? Excellent. What? Yes, I want the woman known as 'Angel'. What? No I don't want Dorothy Wayneright." Suddenly his voice when from smug to frustrated. "You mean to say that you've been chasing a decoy!" he roared. "No it's not acceptable at all blast it!" He slammed down the phone. "Confound it!"

"Gee that's too bad Mister Young," Beck smiled lazily. "I guess we'll have to do things my way."

"So it would seem Mister Beck," Young muttered.

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

Next: What You Can't Have