Chance sat as still as possible in the cabin of the helicopter as it thundered toward the looking skyscrapers. He felt the wind rush by his whiskers. The door gunner of the Enforcer chopper gave him a puzzled look.
"Mr. Furlong, are you ok? A lot of kats have never flown on a helicopter before." Lt. Feral asked.
Chance had been doing barrel rolls and sustained many G's of force over the period of his adult life. This helicopter ride was like riding a tricycle. Deep down he wished it would go faster so he could link up with his partner and get this mess sorted out.
"Oh, I feel a little queasy. Do you have any of those uhh air sickness bags?" Chance said, rubbing his stomach.
Lt. Feral stared blankly at Chance. This civilian all though well meaning, was of no use to her at the moment. She had already broken protocol allowing him to fly on board of an Enforcer Helicopter if he threw up all over the cabin it would only make matters worse.
"Is there anywhere we could drop you off Mr. Furlong?" Lt. Feral asked, with a half attempted grin.
Chance looked out of the door of the helicopter. The salvage yard was coming into view. Hopefully the pilot was good enough to land the chopper inside of the rows of junk and battered cars. "Crud this is too easy. I could grab a spare cyclotron and a G suit and beat these losers back into town. If this idiot can't land it in the salvage yard maybe they will let me land it…..
"UHHHHHH. Oh my. Can you just drop me off at this salvage yard, I'll see if they can get me a ride down there. Ohh man. I can't handle this flying. Uhhh God, I'm gonna hurl." Chance exhaled, stomping his feet on the metal floor of the aircraft.
"Pilot, can you land this bird at this salvage yard? Our passenger…..he isn't too fit for flying. I don't think we need him any longer he has answered all of my questions!" Felina shouted over the rotors. "Gross please don't puke, the entire flight crew may start puking too. UGH!"
Almost instantly the helicopter stopped in place and hovered for a few moments and began it's descent into the salvage yard. Chance pretended to fumble out of the helicopter and waved as it took off. The door gunner of the helicopter rolled his eyes and gave a half assed wave in return.
"Civilians." He thought to himself.
Chance watched as the helicopter sped off towards the city. He waited a few moments until he was sure they were no longer able to see him. "Enforcers." He thought to himself.
"JAKE!" Chance yelled.
His voice echoed off of the forgotten salvage and battered vehicles stacked like a maze throughout the salvage yard.
"RAZOR!" He yelled.
After a few milliseconds of waiting he darted toward the garage. He began forming a plan inside of his head.
"Whatever is going on, Razor isn't here. There must be something happening. A little ejection seat ride like that wouldn't keep the sure shot down. No way. Probably out looking for me."
Chance opened the secret hatch located in the living quarters of the garage. He slide down the ladder.
"Crud, what happened in here?" He said to nobody surveying the damage of the hanger. "Even for Jake, this is a mess."
He grimaced at the tools and parts thrown everywhere but now was not the time to solve this puzzle. He slipped into one of his G suits he found thrown about the floor and grabbed a helmet.
"Crud, Razor must have the spare cyclotron. Guess it's the Thunder Truck or Uber."
"THIS IS FERAL! TURN OFF YOUR ENGINE AND STEP OUT OF THE VEHICLE!" Commander Feral yelled threw his megaphone at the Behemoth Tank.
Feral grimaced at the sight before him. Never in his 20 plus years as an Enforcer had he seen such negligence in the line of duty. He could feel his blood pressure steadily rising at the scene up front of him.
The Behemoth Tank was stuck in the middle of an overpass and countless civilian vehicles that it had smashed. Whoever this Enforcer was attempting to drive it had no clue, not even a partial clue on how to operate the vehicle.
The second part was that the smaller Swat Kat was hanging on for dear life on the bubble canopy of the tank. Attempting to smash through it with his hand mounted weapon.
Feral pulled out his radio. This was definitely going to warrant more chopper back up.
Feral shook his head in disbelief as the tank attempted to backout from under the overpass one more time, kicking up large chunks of asphalt and dirt and throwing it in all directions.