Thanks for the nice reviews and pm. Uff. You know, I am very nervous to publish a story. I really love writing - in my mother tongue. Love to create a desperate atmosphere. It's hard to write in a language you learned decades ago (yes - I'm old) at school and barely use in daily life. Well.. still ... The story is roughly finished in my head - if the characters play along, you know. Sometimes they just do what they want to. So I have to get it out of my head.
And I have to admit - yeah. I'm in the middle of my exams. Final exams of my long and complicated further education and I avoid learning. Ugh.. as always. Kind of sublimation in a psychological way.
Aaaaanyway, have fun with this chapter - less bloody and action here.
And Happy Easter to those who celebrate this christian holiday.

Their followers weren't fast at all so the mice had a head start. Driving from the tower holding the creepy lab in it to the open desert, heading to the mountains. „Does anyone know where we are?" Modo asked frowning while he watched with awe that Vinnie managed to get dressed while riding his bike. His bike was used to its owners acrobatic feats and held its course steady and calm.

„Never been here before," Vinnie mumbled, pulling the sweater over his head and looked at their friend and leader asking. Throttle clung to the handlebars, his face twisted in pain while his cold eyes were darting left and right without focusing. He hasn't said a word since they left the enemy tower.

„Narrowly escaped with life from a mad scientist with his sick laboratory. This makes a good line in my application documents," Vinnie joked sarcastically, because he could not stand the silence pressing on the bros, „sooooo, what happened, by the way? Seems I was sleeping."
Throttle remained silent. Both mice looked at him sorrowfully as they expected an answer from him. After a few awkward seconds Modo cleared his throat. „As I recall there were these stinkin' plutarkians with their ugly crafts." „Yeah, I know, bro. I was awake then," Vinnie snarled, „But what happened after we were pinned on the ground by these fucking strong and heavy nets?" „Nets?"
He could not remember any nets. „Ah man, no use in this conversation" Vinnie complained, „so what do we do now?"
Again they both gave their tan-furred bro a questioning look – but still no answer. Vinnie drove next to him and wanted to say something but got distracted by the irritating twitching eyes. „Whaaaaaa...Whassissss?" he yelled. Throttle blinked, terrified by the loud voice next to him and barely able to keep the balance of his bike.
Abruptly he hit the brakes. Vinnie and Modo stopped soon after.
„Whats the matter?", Modo asked, approaching to his friend.
Throttle struggled for words while his bros surrounded him. Sighing deep he started with shaking voice. „I'm sorry, bros, I'm really sorry." Modo looked puzzled and Vinnie stared at their leader as if he had lost his mind. „Sorry for ..what?" asked Modo hesitantly. „For failing – on you and on the freedom fighters." Modo breathed in with a hissing noise. „I underestimated the abilitys of our enemies and almost got us killed ... or worse. Whatever happened in this lab."
Vinnie was still distracted by these cold bionic eyes, Modo shook his head slowly – although Throttle probably couldn't see. „Ya didn't failed on nobody," he said with his deep voice a little angry.
The brown mouse lifted his head and stared in Modos direction. „I'm supposed to lead, Modo. It was my fault we got caught by the plutarkians, it was my fault we got hurt. And I can't even tell how badly you both are hurt, by the way. Neither can I tell you where we are or where we are going." His husky voice now strong and calm. „They took my eyes, big guy. I dunno what they put in my skull but I can't see. Tell me, how can I lead you when I'm blind like some dumb saber squid?"

Vinnie stared at him in disbelief: „Ah, I get it now." Modo rolled his eye, someone had to be the adult here. „Throttle, listen to me. You're not our leader because you've had the sharpest eyes." „Yes, but..." „Don't interrupt me. Just listen ‚til I'm finished. You are our leader because you are clever and smarter than the two of us together," Vinnie made a sound but stopped just in time. Modo continued: „We do trust you with our lives and you never – d' ya hear me? – never failed on us or on the freedom fighters. This is war, we know the danger and we are well aware that we can lose our lives any moment." „Yeah, this is the fun part in war," the white mouse cheered.
Modo threw him a nasty look but then finished his pathetic speech: „Now, get a grip, think fast and give us a plan, leader. We can be your eyes, but you have to be our brain." Throttle had a crooked smile on his face, scratching his neck thinking.

After a long pause he answered so quietly it was little more than a whisper. „You're right, bro."
He sat up straight and tightened his shoulders. „We are still here. The stinkin' fishes couldn't defeat us nor break our will, we are still whipping tails." he continued with stong and loud voice, „Here is the plan, bros. Vinnie, check the coordinates where we are located at the moment. I try t'contact Stoker – hopefully their camp was not under attack. Please inform me of anything important. Daytime, location, hidings and of course enemy movement. Modo, look out for a place to camp. I need you to check on my wounds when we're in a safe place and I guess you two are wounded, too." „Yes, commander," both mice answered in unison and did what they were told.

Activating his vision com with closed eyes, he tried to find the right frequencies: „Throttle to Stoker. Come in. Over." Nothing but static. He tried again with the same result and was wondering if he had entered the wrong frequencies. But honestly he always typed the numbers blind.
Suddenly there was a well-known voice that could not hide its surprise. „Stoker to the mouse of steel. Over." With a deep sigh of relief, the brown mouse answered. „Stoke, glad you're alive as well. Where are you?" The voice of their mentor was shaky, Throttle recognized, but then he cleared his throat and informed him: „We were on our way to the frontline base but when the radio connection with the hq broke off we returned ... to late I must confess."
There was a long silence, then Stoker sighed and continued, „The HQ is nothing but a big and ugly crater disfiguring the landscape. We took the wounded with us but to be honest – there weren't many mice alive. I'll send you the coordinates of our hiding. Where are you and .. the two mudpuppies?" he added with hesitation, afraid to hear more bad news.
„They are here with me, general. Send the coordinates to Vincent, he'll send you ours. We are on our way." „Copy that. Watch your back. I'll expecting you at our hiding as soon as possible. Over an' out."