New Allies
New Enemies
Saga By JazzCopyright 2003
All Rights Reserved
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Biker Mice from Mars. They are used without permission, and solely for entertainment. No profit is made from this story.
However the characters of- Jez Reed, Spider, Morri, Percy and Chuck are from my own warped imagination and for my own personal use.
New Allies
The purring engine growled as its clutch was released, its rider feeling the bike sliding into high gear. A small hiss came as the face shield on the rider's helmet evaporated from view.
The cold air that rushed in chased away his fatigue. Modo brushed a hand across his furred snout, scraping his already broken buckteeth with the metal appendage that was his right arm.
He breathed out heavily, the chin guard catching his sigh and making it more a whistle sound, though it was drowned out by the noise of his silver and purple Lowrider.
A faint toot made him gaze down at the little lights that chased each other around on the display mounted on his crankcase. He tenderly rubbed the dial with his furred grey hand. "I'm ok li'l darlin, just a li'l weary, that's all."
His explanation did not appease the seemingly sentient motorbike but he was glad it did not want to press the issue. You're as bad as my mamma, li'l hoss.
As he rode through the night, passing street after street, most only half-lit by a few streetlamps, he watched the area rapidly descend into desolation. Ol' Fishlips sure is takin' his toll on the city.
He turned his head far left letting his right eye take in the view his left eye no longer could. His red eye picked up the same view again. Buildings defying gravity by still standing, huge craters decimating most of the ground and giant red bacoes that stood empty and lifeless.
"What the hell is that over ripe cheesebrain of his up to?" Modo's bike beeped a reply of uncertainty, earning it a low laugh from its rider. "I wasn't asking ya, li'l Hoss," he gazed up at the deserted street speaking his thoughts to his ever-listening companion, "just there's gotta be some reason why he's downed tools for over a week now. And there still ain't been no sign of ol' Grease gullet, neither."
And now Throttle wants us to do night patrols, just in case. He mulled over all the available information his bros and he had discussed in the evening. They knew Limburger wasn't on holiday. He'd been parading himself around Chicago as though he was royalty, but his usual ensemble of Greasepit and his goons were never with him anymore.
Nobody new what he was up to anymore? Throttle had laughed and joked about Limburger going straight but his small laugh echoed nervousness about the situation. Even Charley had found herself floundering for ideas as to why he was so quiet. Though they'd all agreed one thing, whatever he was up to would not be good for them, for Chi-Town or for the innocent citizens.
The dark alley threw out noises of dripping water and litter being ruffled along by the breeze. The lone figure that walked cat-like into the blackness, arms outstretched, feeling her way through the dank back street.
Her fingers barely brushing the sharp brick walls either side, trying to ignore the clammy feeling of mould and dirt that scraped on her nails.
Stopping she looked up at the ladder that was held a good way above her head. Silently as she could she pulled a metal trashcan from the other wall positioning it under the fire escape. Clambering on to it, she reached up standing on tiptoe to grasp the first rung of the metal ladder.
Drawing in a deep breath she pulled at the ladder hoping it would slide down. The breath burst out of her lungs leaving her along with her strength. She gave one more mighty pull but the ladder wouldn't budge from its safety clips.
Searching around to make sure nobody was using the alleyway she again grabbed it. Hoisting herself up, she gained small purchase with her sneakers against the slimy walls. Her feet slipped a few times before she managed to hook one elbow over the bottom rung giving her the leverage to grab onto a higher step.
Puffing and panting she finally reached the metal stairway of the fire escape. Wiping the rust from her hands on to her black jeans she walked carefully up the steps. She examined the odd callus that had formed from her ladder climbing adventure; knew I should've gone into secretarial work. They always have perfect hands…and nails.
She looked out at the view just visible behind a large building. The Limburger tower dominated the skyline. Jez kept a steady gaze on it, and Oliver said nothin' ever happens in Chicago. The laugh stayed at the back of her throat.
She wondered just what exactly had prompted her to watch Limburger Tower this afternoon, and why she'd followed the five guys to the abandoned building they now holed themselves up in. Chalk it up to instincts detective, oh man, now I'm even starting to think like him.
She was pleased to finally reach the top of the building. Stealthily she crossed the flat felt roof over towards a small incline that housed a large skylight.
Kneeling on it she crawled her way up to the window. Huh, should've guessed, only criminals lock their windows in this city.
Peeping through the dust and dirt smeared window she could see at least five burly men. All sported bald heads and the same style of dress, black combat trousers, boots and a green vest. They certainly didn't have the bodies of Adonis; they were generally overweight or just big-boned. Not any real muscle to them, except one. He stood near to a large flat tarpaulin that seemed to cover something else equally large and flat.
"Bingo!" Now all I need is for you to just whip that sheet right off, come on man, do it. As though he'd heard her dare the tall muscular guy threw back the sheet. Several crates were hidden beneath it. They were all identical in shape and size. She watched avidly as two guys hefted one of the crates to a sturdy table. The five guys leaned over it. Jez could barely hear the splitting of the wood as it was pried open, their collective heads blocking her view of the crate's contents.
She could make out the whistles and gasps that she associated with admiration of the objects they were viewing. What they hell they got, a lifetimes subscription to Playboy?
Brushing her long hair back behind her ears, she carefully manoeuvred herself more fully over the window. Her hands leaning on the glass as she tilted herself closer.
Their rough voices were just audible, as they seemed to be petting something. They all stood back as one showing off their new toy. What the hell is that?
It was as big as an automatic rifle; though double the width of a shotgun. It had a moulded design that was black yet reflected any and every light source. The thing that Jez noticed the most was that it was a weapon, a big weapon.
She lowered her face closer, angling her head so her ear was almost touching the grimy glass, though not losing sight of the gun.
She could hear them, their fragmented words reaching her. The roar of engine noise carried by the breeze blocked some of their words.
"Preach…like….goin'…mou…hunt."
Jez pressed her face against the glass, not caring anymore about the dirt. She squinted as though less vision would strengthen her hearing. Ignoring the smell of old smog that had settled through the years, she breathed lightly trying not to inhale any of the car-fume dust.
The engine noise was getting louder drowning out their conversation. What the hell do they want with those guns, and what the hell are they gonna be huntin'? Unless they got really mean elephants 'round here.
The noiseless jolt made her bolt upright her hands stretched out as though she were willing the glass not to give way from its rotten wooden frame. It never heard her plea as the whole pane splintered away from its frame. The sheet of glass fell straight down on to the stack of crates yet to be inspected, and shattered into tiny shards.
Jez just gazed down at the broken glass, her eyes moved slightly to take in the five pairs of eyes that were looking up at her.
"Ooops!" She whispered out, before rolling ungracefully down the incline. Her black suede jacket caught on something, she couldn't see and didn't care. The sounds of angry criminals stomping towards her forced her to shrug off the jacket leaving it behind.
She sprinted across the roof and down the fire escape not stopping to see if anyone was behind her. Jumping from the roof to the metal mesh that made up the top level of the stairway, she bolted down the stairs her hand firmly fixed to the metal railing.
Jez made it to the ladder in rapid time, she began climbing down only to feel the ladder start to move on its own. It slid away from its brackets propelling both to the ground. Jez clung on as the legs of the ladder speared the trashcan and stopped its sudden movement.
Carefully she climbed down from it, feeling the trashcan quaking from her every movement. She looked around to see if any of the shadows were moving, but they seemed to be staying put.
Jumping from the fire escape she hit the ground hard her legs buckled as she went down on her hands and knees. Standing up shakily she pulled the gun from its holster attached to her back belt clip. Holding it away from her with both hands she slinked down the alley, wary of any attackers.
The purring sound of an engine greeted her as she made it to the opening. A large motorbike was parked near the sidewalk. Its engine idly ticking over. Walking over to it she noticed it bore no license plate. Bad biker. The biker's helmet swung slowly from one handlebar where it had been left.
Looking around she couldn't see any rider, the street was deserted. No army of bad guys either came out to greet and beat her. A few feet from her was a small alleyway she knew to be a dead end after mistakenly turning down it earlier. A single small lamp attached to a boarded up shop lit the alley. Walking over to it she flattened herself against the wall. Her gun barrel lightly pressed to her chin.
Closing her eyes she counted to three before whirling round the corner. "Freeze CPD!" Jez trained the gun on the tall biker, who stood facing the dead end. The biker ducked his head whilst trying to cover himself.
Jez wasn't sure whether to arrest him for public exposure or to laugh. Nice one, the guy goes to take a leak and you scare the hell out of him. Slowly she put her gun back in its holster, "erm…sorry."
She could feel the blood in her cheeks heating to boiling point as she turned away. The gun that pressed itself painfully into her temple made it rapidly cool. "How 'bout you freeze cop?"
The five guys surrounded her. The big guy, the ringleader she presumed, held one of the new weapons they'd been inspecting. He was also the one doing all the talking.
"Spider, go get our friend there," she watched him address the smallest of the group, "bring him out. Get any problems and shoot him."
To add gravity to his order he snatched her gun from her holster, throwing it to him. "Now detective, you me an' our guest are gonna take a little walk."
Jez bit off her sarcastic reply, she didn't mind herself being in trouble it came with the job but now she had a member of the public caught up in the situation.
The leader looked towards the alley, "Spider get a damn move on!" There was no reply from him. He signalled for two more guys to go and see what was going on. As they approached an unconscious body was thrown forward landing on them both. All three collapsed in a heap, arms and legs tangled with each other.
Jez watched as something stomped towards them, the biker she had surprised. She gaped at him; the guy's gotta be at least seven feet.
She watched as his arm came up levelling out at them. Jez wasn't sure if she was tired or stressed but she could swear that his arm looked like it was made of…metal, he's got a metal arm!
Her eyes rose up to look into his face. She took a step back pressing herself closer to the thug that was behind her. She'd never seen someone so deformed that they actually looked like a mouse. Elephant man's got nothin' on this.
They watched as a little compartment just below the elbow joint parted. A thing, that Jez assumed was a weapon rose up. "That ain't any way to treat a lady"
His voice seemed naturally low, with a definite hint of danger interlaced with it. Are you friend or foe, buddy? Jez felt the grip on her arm loosen then fall away completely. She slanted her eyes over to their boss watching him. Something flickering caught her eye, the weapon.
"Duck!" she shouted out her warning whilst throwing herself to the floor. Her eyes still trained on the weird biker. She watched him roll out of the way as a bright blue light streamed over him.
A flame danced on something long and grey, which the biker grabbed and blew on. His metal arm came up within the same movement and a bright red light shot out from what seemed to be a small twin barrelled gun.
Jez heard the crackle of the gun as it was hit, and sounded as though it had been overloaded. Pulling herself up she ran towards the bike she'd seen. I'm in the middle of god damn star wars!
She reached behind her for her gun, cursing when she realised the thug called Spider was the last to have it. Not wasting any thought on the biker who'd saved her she clambered onto the bike.
Thankful that its engine was still ticking over she grabbed at the throttle. Wait a minute, I can't ride these things.
Unsure of where to start, she knew roughly which was the throttle and where the brakes were. Though no amount of pressure applied to the throttle would make it move. Its' engine growled noisily as though it were fighting her.
"Give me a break ok, I'm having a seriously bad night."
More laser fire reached her ears; she looked up from the machine to see the huge biker barrelling towards her. Oh hell.
He reached her and grabbed the helmet, managing to slide it over his large pancake ears. "Slide back, ma'am. I'll take it from here."
Jez wasn't sure what to do, so she just slid back without argument. He climbed on in front of her and the bike pulled away. They whizzed past the five guys who were all back on their feet. She watched the leader aim the laser gun at them she hoped and prayed they were travelling too fast to be hit. She didn't know what disintegration by laser felt like, and was in no hurry to find out.
They were past her eye line when the bike lurched and a shower of sparks went up next to her. She felt hot metal and fire rain down on her leg. It didn't hurt badly and no amount of pain would convince her to loosen the grip she had around the biker's waist.
Jez was impressed at how he managed to stay in control of the bike but the fast clunking noise told her something got damaged.
She felt something hook around her waist, glancing down she saw a tail. I don't want to even guess what the hell that is! She chose to ignore it, her eyes staring straight ahead.
They rounded a corner and found themselves heading towards the harbour, only warehouses surrounded them now. A few were lit, but they all looked lifeless.
She felt the bike slowing, he's stopping. Their not even five minutes behind us, and he's stopping!
"Are you nuts, they're right behind us." She glared at him as he swivelled round to look at her. She was fast becoming used to his very odd look.
"She can't go any further." The biker's tone was mumbled out through his helmet, though she could still sense an air of tender concern in it.
H pulled himself off standing by the bike, one hand open. Jez stared at him, she jumped up grabbing his hand when she realised that's what he was waiting for. His flesh arm, which looked furry to her pulled her from the bike, she felt that if he didn't have manners he might of just tossed her from it.
Stooping down he examined the bike. Jez peered over his shoulder at the long gash that ran along one side just above the exhaust. It wasn't wide but there was some murky coloured liquid leaking from it. She watched him tenderly run a finger over the sear. Rubbing the collected liquid between his fingers and thumb.
"Can it still work?" Jez watched as he stood up towering over her. She wanted to step back, but was never one to let people intimidate her, so instead suffered the pain of craning her neck back as far as it would go.
"She," he seemed to grate out the word letting Jez know the bike was female, "can't make it. We need to get my friend out to her. She's leakin' gas and oil."
Jez silently mouthed "oh" to him. She looked back at the corner they'd turned down. She hadn't been in Chicago long but she knew it was still a fair distance from the Southside were they'd left the hoodlums. Ok, respect due to bike and rider. Whatever he may be?
"Why were they after ya ma'am?"
"Hmm," Jez turned her head back to him, "I'm sorry did you say something?"
"I asked why those goons were after ya, what did ya do?"
"Goons? Oh, the goons," Jez tried not to look like she was completely stupid in front of him, "I followed them there."
"You followed them?"
"Yes."
He just nodded as though he were humouring her. Jez focused her eyes and attention fully on him. "You have a problem with that?"
"No ma'am."
"I'm not crazy you know." Jez willed her brain to catch up with her mouth, "I actually had a good reason to be following them."
He nodded again, as he grabbed the handlebars pushing the bike onwards. "There's gotta be a phone round here somewhere."
"What?" She heard him say something but his long legs had already taken him almost beyond her hearing range. Wrapping her arms around herself she ambled after him, jogging slightly to catch up with him.
Jez slowed her pace as she drew up next to him. He glanced down at her briefly. She regretted leaving her jacket behind the short-sleeved T-shirt she wore was no protection for the sea breeze coming in from Lake Michigan.
Rubbing her arms trying to keep her circulation going, she kept glancing behind her. Expecting the goons to suddenly appear.
"What reason, ma'am?"
"Huh?" She looked up at him seeing him sigh at forever having to repeat himself to her.
"What was the reason?"
She studied him briefly before turning her attention to the concrete she walked on. Friend or foe? She questioned his motive; she wasn't one to trust lightly God knows she'd learnt that lesson well.
"Well," she breathed in the salty air pondering what to tell him. Visions of Dragnet came to her, the facts ma'am, just the facts.
"Well, I'm a police officer. And I was investigating an ongoing case."
"So if you're a cop, where's your badge?"Jez halted mid stride. Her hand came up slapping against her forehead dramatically, "my badge is with my cell phone." He stared at her obviously waiting for the crunch they both knew was coming. "And my cell phone is in my jacket, which conveniently happens to be on the top of that building." She absently waved her hand towards the Southside as though it may actually be visible from their location.
"That figures." His deadpan reply did nothing for the urge she had to throw one almighty tantrum. Instead she picked up her pace, hoping that somewhere in one of the warehouses would be a kindly old security guard with a phone and a hot cup of coffee.
Morri listened intently to the voice on the phone. He nodded as though his caller were stood in front of him. "Yes sir," he replied. Finally he flipped shut the silver cell phone slipping it back into one of the pockets on his trousers.
He looked at the four other goons, "boss says we take'em both out, and with no mess." This comment he directed towards a toothless grinning gorilla of a guy. He was as short as he was wide, and they all just referred to him as Percy. He didn't speak, at least no one had ever heard him speak, and he wasn't the nicest guy to have date your sister.
Yet their new boss found amusement in his colourful ways of disposing people, but it was usually the mess that was left behind that made most of them at one time or another lose their lunch.
Morri dipped his hand into the crates handing a brand new pulse rifle to each of the goons. He grabbed another one for himself, the damaged one had been discarded on the worktable it still crackled and fizzed from the shot it took. Damn that rat, he's gonna pay for nearly takin' my hand.
He walked off towards another large tarpaulin, again pulling it off to reveal a sparkling white Humvee. A larger version of their pulse rifles was mounted on the back. One of the goons jumped up into the open back manning the gun, twisting it all around to see how many angles it covered.
Morri laughed out at the goon, "you know what they say about men who have to have big guns don't'cha chuck?"
The guy stared at him blankly, "no," his brow furrowed in concentration. All the others just let out a groan as one more joke went flying over the simple goon's head.
Chuck, you really gotta get a sense of humour. Morri mounted up in the front, allowing Spider to drive. He was sure the kid couldn't screw up with this.
The cell phone rang; Morri pulled it from his pocket flipping it open. "Hello," he listened to the voice carefully. "Gotcha." Their new boss was not one for conversation, "ok they've been spotted down near the docks. Lets go kick some rat ass, boys."
The engine rumbled to life and the leviathan of vehicles pulled out ready for the hunt.