18
"Hello?" Hershel called through the thick door, slipping the room key card she kept for herself smoothly into the reader.
The inner workings clattered against each other sharply as she turned the handle, pushing the thick door ajar the second the little light above the slot shinned its jade blessing. The handle returned to its default with a snap.
"It's Hershel." She said through that small crack between the door and the frame. "Don't shoot. I'm here to take Ms. Stark to the airport, like we arranged."
Nothing but the still, quiet air replied through the crack, just like with the lovebirds' room next door. Routinely, her hand slipped behind the flap of her jacket, fingers questing for the grip of her pistol. The tips felt the button pop abruptly, the pieces of the bottle-cap strap parting for her fingers as they wrapped around the steel grip. She barely had it out of its leather pocket, the muzzle arcing for the ground while her shoulder shoved the heavy plank open.
Possible's room was empty, clean and orderly as though the redhead had never used it. The bed was made; its bedspread smoothed out over the mattress with a small little depression at the foot. The laptop's black screen glared at her, the light barely reflecting back her image. Two wrinkled duffel bags shared a small cot nearby.
Professionally, she kept her gun on point as she eased her body further into the room, whipping it around the corner first while her body followed second. The closet doors were wide open, and the natural light spilling inside drove out all possibility of someone inside like the very shadows that once dwelled.
Perfectly, her eyes ran over every inch of the undulated surface of the angled, egg carton foam. The .50-caliber rifle was missing, and so was the box of .357 rounds, as though she left in a hurry.
"Where'd you go, guys?" she said quietly as she holstered her gun.
--Something beeped nearby, and her hand returned to the gun instinctively but she was certain it was nothing. Though her heart did hop in her chest, she was sure it wasn't an incendiary device, not by that strange jingle. It was four notes, the third interjecting itself upon the second just at it ended, a note above the other three.
It came from one of the duffels on the cot.
She walked toward it indifferently, and her hand took the lead as it plunged into the bag, through the hole where it was unzipped. The tips of her fingers tapped against plastic, buried through several articles of clothes of varying textures. She yanked it out of the bag harshly, as if it were stuck.
In her hands, Possible's PDA beeped at her again. Something told her to thumb at the red button, between the four white ones, like she had seen her contracted functionary do. The dark screen was engulfed in a snowstorm of static when her thumb gave the button a nudge, but through the whiteout, an image filtered in, fighting back the storm. The static quickly dissipated as more of the image sifted into place. From out the speakers, her ears distinctly caught the sound of a keyboard, fingers tap dancing on it.
"Almost got it...!" a child's voice said in a loud crescendo, the last words and intensifying drawl. The screen became crystal clear with a flicker, with not a hint of static or interference, yet that has to been seen. "There!"
"Uh... who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Wade." The dark, portly child frowned. "And you must be that Hershel I keep hearing about."
"The one and only." She smirked. "But your Satellite's down for the count, last I checked. How'd you get your system back on line, and so quickly?"
"All in the card, Ms. Hershel." The boy smiled proudly. "Amazing how I didn't see it in the first place, and I'm supposed to be the genius of this outfit."
Her brow kinked, yet her eyes narrowed skeptically.
"What'd you do...?" she groaned.
"My direct line with Kim's been shot down over Jerusalem not too long ago." He said. "And after pondering this conundrum for about a half hour now, I remembered about your little mod to Kim's memory card. Since we're on the same team, I just figured I'd invite myself over to your network and servers."
"Shit!" she cursed. "If your government didn't have enough problems with us already...! Does your Department of State know about this?"
"No ma'am." He shook his head. "And after watching the news networks for the past half hour, I could really give a damn."
"Not exactly language becoming of a boy like you, Wade." She sighed. "What *exactly* has been going on?"
The boy blinked his dark eyes. "You mean you don't know?"
"No!" she moaned. "I've been getting an earful from the US Ambassador for the past half hour! I couldn't get out of it."
"Turn on the TV if one's close by." Said the boy. "After that, I'm sure that I don't need to explain what's going on."
"All right." She nodded. "Anything else?"
"The government's on to me, if they're not already. This quite possibly is the last transmission you'll ever hear from me. All I want is that Kim, Ron, and everyone else gets back safe and sound, you hear?"
"I hear you."
"Then maybe I can sleep a little easier in my cell." He shook his head. "I don't know."
"Don't worry about it." She said reassuringly. "After all's said and done, I'm sure Israel can work something out."
"I'll believe it when I see it." He sighed. "Till then, put in a good word with the big man upstairs."
"Will do."
Snow swallowed up the boy and his room in a flurry of static, mere milliseconds before Possible's trademark monogram flickered on the tiny LCD. It flickered out like a light as her thumb gave the little, red button a nudge, the rest of her fingers pocketing the PDA smoothly in the jacket pocket beside her holster.
"Might need this a little later on." She noted aloud as she strolled for the TV.
As her index traveled for the power button, sudden apprehension crept into her mind, as though something terrible waited to explode at her in a shower of dark fragments. But she shoved it off with a simple shrug of the shoulders, a blink of the eyes before she gave the tiny button a rub of her digit. The device let out a tone, high in pitch with thick, Hebrew voices taking the lead from out the speakers while the picture took its sweet time filtering in.
"This is the scene just thirty minutes ago," the faceless anchorman said--
--And a horrific curse escaped through her loose lips, knees waning in their firm lock, as a large mass of still flesh--messy, red flesh--faded in through the dark screen. Men, women, even some children littered the nameless street, their bodies still, faces frozen and twisted in that single moment of terror which took their lives so cruelly, gruesomely.
"Oh... my...!"
***
"JESUS!!" The driver beside her screamed horrifically, as though the fickle deity could actually catch her voice on His distant cloud, through all the madness surrounding. Though the girl's faith was admirable somewhat, her mysterious divinity of chosen dogma wasn't going to get them out of this mess. "HELP!!"
Kim didn't have the time, or the guts to fume her frustration. She kept her eyes on the news 'copter, hovering indifferently above her, and she kept the huge rifle clutched to her chest with both hands.
"DON'T GIVE UP, T!" Yune called through the many terrible, frightening sounds that Drazen unleashed at them from his beast. "KEEP GOING!"
"I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN!!" The blonde rejoined. "I JUST DON'T--!"
"T!!" Her lover yelled. "THIS IS NOT A CONVERSATION!! I HAVE FAITH IN YOU!! NOW DO IT!!"
She stole a blurry glance at the girl, before she retrained her head on that growing piece of benign machinery in the sky. Tara's eyes couldn't have grown any wider, her lids were cramped to the extreme while her teeth bared brightly through her lips. She wasn't sure how much more pressure the girl could take, and if there really was a god out there, she hoped deeply that he, or it wouldn't let the girl crack.
"You can run, Bin-Mok!" The beast said wryly. "But you cannot hide! I'll find you, and make you squeal like a stuck pig! You and that little German wench too!"
"I'M NOT GERMAN!!" Tara screamed back through the wind futilely.
"Sadie!" She exclaimed. "Get ready!"
"Ejection system's ready to go, Kim!" the AI replied loudly. "Just say the word!"
"Find the target's approximate position and altitude!" she barked. "Crunch the numbers, and launch me at just the right time! I'll take it from there! In the meantime, do whatever you can for Yune, and especially Tara!"
"Got it, Kim!" the bars of the equalizers on the green readout were at their maximum peaks. "Running probability scenarios now."
"Good!" her clench upon her grapple gun strangled the buoyancy out of the grip. "Tara, the target's coming up on us! Keep it straight--!"
Another fountain of dirt kicked up from the dirt with a mighty *PACK*, in front of them as Sadie barreled straight through indifferently. Granules tapped off the surface of the windshield while wet globs of earth splattered squarely on, its shape changing as it smeared near the closest edge.
"YOU WANT TO DRIVE, KIMMIE!?" Tara screamed blindly at her while she kept her eyes fixed on the road. "BE MY GUEST!!"
"WE CAN'T AFFORD YOU PISSED OFF, TARA!" She screamed back. "NOW DO IT!"
More of the news copter's dark underbelly became all the more clear the closer she got. Large embers of bright, yellow light soared through her view like meteors; crests of the many muddy fountains of earth kicked up like Old Faithful, yet she kept her eyes on the target, on the shiny, chrome skis that ran underneath it. Promptly, she draped the thick, rifle's sling over her hair, all ten fingers clenching the grapple gun strongly.
"Get ready for lift off, Kim!" Sadie called.
"Ready!" Her lungs took in a deep breath of air, her eyes closed while every single muscle ached with a tense strain. It was her only shot-- *their* only shot for survival, and unlike Ronald's video games, there were no unlimited restarts.
"Prepare for launch!" Sadie continued on attentively. Her guts felt as if they were fighting amongst themselves; a tight, gnawing feeling that made her want to lose her brunch.
Quickly, she removed a hand from her grapple, tearing open the flap of her cargos as the fingers dived straight in. She didn't know why, yet she felt this strange feeling, one that made her twisting guts shiver, as though she somehow knew that she wasn't returning anytime soon. And the lovebirds needed all the help and the breaks they could get.
"Lift off in three... two... one..."
Her last, conscious act had passed; the farewell gift laid flat inside the glove box as she moved its lid closed. Her fingers retook the grapple swiftly. All the madness, the lunacy outside the SUV seemed to fade away immediately, as all her energy, her mental processes reduced to a simple task of number association.
"LAUNCH...!"
Sadie's yell quickly fell into an abrupt silence--a hollow, gushing roar assaulted her weary ears, and her entire body felt 100 pounds heavier. Her head whipped back harshly by the sheer momentum. Her eyes opened swiftly, drying out the second they touched the brisk air that rushed up the length of her body. Yet that 'copter became so clear, as did the shiny, plated skis fastened to the underbelly.
The sun shinned brilliantly at her, its gentle warmth caressing her with its grand inattention as time simply eased to a slight crawl. Never had the blazing ball in the grand canvas of baby blue looked so beautiful.
The restraint drew awkwardly across her body as she brazenly unleashed it from its buckle. Sheer weight eased from the length of her back, especially the small of it as the chair fell away, back down to the war below, slipping her arm free from the retracting cord at the last possible moment.
Both hands retook the grapple as she gave the skis a final look, bringing up the grapple as swiftly as the air around seemingly reversed its flow on her flesh. She didn't pay her aim even a look as both indexes took up the entire length of the trigger, the hairdryer bucking gently in her hands.
Her hands barely felt the vibrations through her gloves as the cord continued its unreeling. It was her last hope. If her stainless steel savior didn't come through, she'd take a nice, clean bite of the dust that swept over the streets below.
She closed her eyes.
"Come on... --*OH!! *"
***
Uzi was getting bored.
For the past half hour, that little mudskipper slipped out of his grasp time and time again like the very, dirty fish that bared the name. The turret was scraping at the bottom of the ammunition box for rounds, though the 'copter packed many a missile a plenty. Even if the Apache was as armed as it was a half hour ago, the weapons and his patience could punish only so many.
It was time to end this bloody game of cat-and-mouse. When there was fun to be had in the last 30-plus minutes, it all was circling the drain, the sheer amusement seeping and leaking drop by drop into that endless void. Yune Bin-Mok that dirty yellow devil was going to die just like his blonde trophy in a plume of dark, smoldering fire, all at the last drop's plummet.
"Mr. U." Shia said loudly, his train derailing as he plummeted back down into dismal, dull reality. "I think someone's jumped the ship!"
"And what makes you think that, Shia?" He simple batted it right back as he took in a big yawn. "See someone roll out the target, did you?"
"No sir." The pilot replied. "But I thought I saw a chair--a damn chair--fall to the street right in front of me! You think that that Korean's trying something?"
"At this point, Bonnet," he sighed, "I don't know what to think, or what to care about. This mongrel is boring me. It's time to put a stop to this foolishness. Arm the missiles. Commence firing when the target's locked."
"What about that nosy 'copter nearby?" the pilot asked.
"*Ah*..." he yawned. "What about it?"
"As you wish, sir."
"You damn right it's my wish!" he nodded. "Let them do their job."
"Sir!"
***
All the muddy, thick fountains were all behind her and the vehicle as the very streaks of bright light pounded into the earth no more. But even with the road ahead, littered with its simple clutters, the tension had yet to lift from her body. The awesome shadow of their flawless stalker loomed over them, as light pulsated its way through the dark shade like a strobe light.
Her man quickly took up the generous amount of space that Kim's sudden departure had left, standing cautiously below the top of the door beside in a crouch. The thought of Kim egged her to whip her head back, for just a mere second, as it passed through her mind. The road ahead was perfectly straight, the nearest junction ahead encroaching slowly upon her. Boldly, she lifted her eyes away from the road.
"Yune!" She smiled weakly as she glanced at the news chopper's new passenger, scaling the dark thread cord as though it were a rope that the redhead conquered many times before in gym. "Kim made it--!"
"T, WATCH IT!!"
She felt the Asian's good hand atop her skull, shoving her eyes back down onto the road--
--And Sadie's wheels let out a whining screech, swerving the whole body of the SUV clear of the hapless girl that carelessly threw stones her way, as she stood defiantly in the middle of the road. Dust enveloped the child in a thick trail as Tara gladly left it behind.
"*Whew*..." she breathed. "That was close--!"
Her ears twitched as they caught something quiet, shallow and distant. It sounded like someone had fired a bottle rocket nearby--ten bottle rockets at least; a furious, burning hiss that seemed to intensify by the second--every hundredth of a second.
"SHIT!" Yune exclaimed vociferously. "INCOMING--!!"
The last syllable of her man's terrible howl was cut off, the very exclamation points burnt to an unrecognizable crisp as a terrible explosion blasted its way into her head, shaking her brain violently to its very core. The back half of the car lifted up gently as though a hurricane wind scooped it up into its grasp--and released it, just like that. The rear wheels came down upon the pavement like a barrel of bricks.
"*OH!! *" She forced it out though a haggard breath, giving the wheel before her a panicked spin. Her body felt like it wanted to tumble onto the man beside, and the metal around her let out a stifled moan as she felt two wheels lift from the ground.
*KRA--THUNK!! *
Yet they only returned to the ground a second later as Sadie screeched to a halt, her restraints keeping her square in the seat. Yune was less fortunate; the right half of his body crammed against the thick console miraculously, while the protruding dash propped him up.
"You okay, Yune?" she asked.
"*Uh... *" he shook his head. "I feel like a train wreck but I'll manage. Just drive!"
"Right!"
Something sounded off as she floored the accelerator, really *off*. The SUV was too still, and it didn't vibrate at all. Nothing roared out from under Sadie's hood, not even a quiet purr, though she kept the pedal planted firmly against the firewall.
"Lay off, Tara!" The AI rejoined belatedly. "I'm stalled!"
"Oh--sorry!" she shook her head, before her fingers took up the key. Her wrist gave it twist, yet her heartbeat quickened in her ears as the motor refused to turn over. The starter replied with a rolling whirr every time she gave the ignition another turn.
"Sadie," her voice was a panicked crescendo, "it's not working!!"
"I know!" Sadie said intensely. "I'm trying!"
***
Sadie had stopped altogether behind a tower of thick, smoldering cover, the mechanical stalker flanking Tara's door evenly before it as it reduced its speed well over half. The missile strike nearly killed the vehicle in a single shot, and that tenacious fanatic behind the glass would seal its fate if she hanged out any longer.
Thankfully, the nutcase paid her conspicuous exit no attention at all. The grapple was at its max, and her dryer took its sweet time reeling it back. The patience of her strength couldn't stand another second as her dryer pulled her up to a distance apart from the team's shinny, chrome savior, so close yet an arm's length too far.
She gave the grapple a second's worth of a second chance before she forced all her might down, through her arms and into her shoulders. She huffed her body up another precious inch before she brazenly threw herself into a whirlwind of chance, her puffy hair caught in the wild drag.
She clamped her eyes, as she felt the wind swirl about, embracing her flying body--
--Before an elbow smacked into a cold, solid bar of steel. Her arm curled around it like that of a monkey, her other hand snatching her wrist as the arm threatened to unwrap. It took a borrowed second while she gathered back her bearings, opening her eyes down as her legs gently waved to the world below.
"OH MAN...!" the terrible air around swallowed up her voice.
Fear quickly drained from her mind while Drazen's Apache lurched further towards its dying game. Tara and Yune protested at the plight that plagued their dying steed, smack dab in the middle of a dirty, bloody shooting gallery of their hunter's making.
Training took control as both hands snatched the bar, and she pumped her legs back and forth like a gymnast. At her forward movement's extreme, she removed her hand of the bar, using momentum to flip her body around on the bar efficiently. She gave her body a few more pumps--
--And her breasts were crammed against her chest as she brought her knees close, driving her legs through the space between the body and the ski. It was sheer luck that she negotiated the rifle's bulky gas break through the space at all. The backs of her knees pinched the bar tightly, and the back of her head touched the very bottom of the copter's body.
Carefully, she worked the butt of the rifle against her shoulder, her cheek pressing against the rough stock. Her left eye closed, the lid cramming into itself while her right peered through the scope, eying that little gyrocopter on the target's tail nicely. She could only manage one shot; there were no more bullets to be used. The strong chill sweeping up her back reminded her strongly of it. It had to count, no doubt about it.
Her brain gave her foot one last command while her finger took up the trigger's slack, her ankle rolling as she felt the string of the grapple wrap around it snugly.
*God... Yahweh--Allah--whoever you really are, * her mind whispered, *don't let me screw up! *
Her lips finished the thought completely in a single, silent word.
"Please...!"
***
The soldering tower of fire took its time, dissolving into the air slowly, shielding his target behind its arced, thinning veil fleetingly. Uzi felt the frustration surge through his arms, his hand trembling while the parts of his combat load rattled. That yellow devil couldn't get away; he *wouldn't* let him slip through his grasp again.
"Shia!" he barked. "The target's stopped! Do you have a visual?"
"No sir!" the pilot called back. "The smoke's too thick! And the fire below renders our infrared and our heat seekers useless!"
"How much ammo's left for our turret?"
"We're running pretty low on it sir!"
"You can bet your ass they're not going to wait!" he thought openly in loud exclamation. "We have to hit them now, and hit them hard! Shia, unless you want to make this Indian do a fucking rain dance, get back on the machine gun! Spray and pray till you're dry! Then hit them with another TOW!"
"You got it, Mr. U!" the pilot replied.
"Where's Avi?"
"He's hauling ass, sir!" Shia said. "His team just passed through a checkpoint now."
"Tell him to haul a freaking elephant's ass then!" he yelled.
"Sir!"
Through the thinning, shifting column of darkness, a slight headache pounded behind his crown as his only working eye peered deeply in. He could just barely make out a streak of red, solid red that belonged not to the hot patches of fire. The target was still there, parked intrepidly, perpendicular to the street it sat on. Yune egged at him sinisterly, the yellow devil just had to be!
"Yes!" a smug grin tugged at his lips. "He's still there! Shia, fire at will!"
"Sir--!"
He felt his body shift oddly in the seat as the steel around him vibrated gently, strangely.
"Shia?" he laid his back evenly against the seat. The utter vibrations passed from the machine, through the shards imbedded in his skull that sliced a green, nauseous crack into his brain. The very sides of his sight curled up slightly, as though the world teased him with a gentle, hidden smile, the very prelude to its off the cuff dance around his head. "*Oh...! * What... the heck's--going on!"
"Don't know, Sir!" Shia's voice was in a panicked crescendo. "Pedals are feeling *really* rough--!"
As if his gut wasn't churning enough, his brain trembled violently in his skull as the Apache felt like it was calling forth a rain shower in a terrible, shaky dance. Thin wisps of black blew in gently from behind, disappearing into the air as soon as they revealed themselves.
Shia screamed something terribly, like an adolescent girly girl about to get her kidneys removed with a plastic knife.
"*UGH! *" He grunted hoarsely. "What...?"
"THE TAIL'S BEEN HIT!!" The pilot screamed like pansy. "THE TAIL'S BEEN HIT!!"
He blinked in awe as those words sank quickly into that nauseating crack in his mind.
"Are--YOU SERIOUS!?" he yelled back.
"NO, I'M NOT!!" Shia screamed again. "YOU WANT ME TO CALL DR. PHIL!? JUST TO BE SURE!?"
Another wisp of thin black smoke floated past his window, which caused him to crane his neck over to the right. That interloping 'copter from the Channel 2 network hovered there, indifferent to his trouble while the celluloid kept rolling behind their lenses. A crewman was so bold; he brazenly sat dangerously upon a ski as if it were nothing but a bench in the park--
*What the...? *
It him just like the objects that pummeled the chopper's tail. That person was as much a newsman as much as that object s/he held was a TV camera. It all came together like clockwork during a rally race, as he was certain that a flowing mane of red capped the head of the sniper.
"WELL SIR!!" Shia carried on his irrelevant tirade like a bratty, little girl. "DO YOU!?"
"It can't be...!" the words came out hushed through his clenched teeth, his lips slipping back, over the smooth enamel easily as he seethed. His whole body shook with such a rage, that the fitful Indian had no bearing on him whatsoever. Never had anything--everything appeared so red before. "NO-- !!"
***
Kim felt she was at the very apex of her game, as she sent another heavy round crashing through the tail of the Major's beast; her rump parked firmly on the bar miraculously. Its very life flowed from the open wound as though it were attacked in the dead of winter, blackness oozed profusely while steam escaped it in dark, thin plumes.
Irony was ingrained deep within the pockmarks: the native's of her own country believed this very thing.
The tail began to weave and bob erratically as control slipped from his fingers literally. The little tail rotor wobbled strangely, as though its very edges morphed and shifted before her eyes. The mysterious god must have been feeling generous; He seemingly reached down his powerful hand, and single-handedly plucked the mighty Indian of the feathers one by one, as they sliced through the sky aimlessly.
The Indian's trembling rage quickly overwhelmed it, as its body went careening out of control. Its tail scraped against the nearest building, and a slice of plaster and granite exploded at the touched, pieces showering down upon any who unfortunately stood.
Weight of its massive, streamlined head carried the body over the roof of the building. God yet again reached His hand down, and tore at the native's spinning headdress, tossing the pieces every which way imaginable. The mysterious deity wasn't as forgiving as she thought, as a thin, black line cut at her with incredible speed. It sliced right through the 'copter body above her, and out from the line came terrible yelps of a deadly surprise.
"Whoa...!" she said as the ski beneath her pressed against her bum, the copter rolling towards its side swiftly. The cloth of her cargos was loosing grip upon the chrome, and her body bent at the waist as she slipped through the space behind her. But the strength of her grapple line gave her all the comfort she needed, though it did squeeze tightly around her ankle.
A terrible crash resounded from behind the upside down building, the building shook with a mighty rumble while a cloud of dust sprouted up behind it like a mushroom--
The earth shook no more, as the Indian trembled in its rage no more. Its fate had been sealed, the Palestinians could fear no more, courtesy of the great, teen hero, Kim Possible. Uzi was finished.
***
Tara got Sadie's engine to purr in the nick of time, with the eighth twist of the key, as pebbles and chunks mysteriously began to fall to the pavement. The rapping of the stones, her ears barley caught it through a tremendous explosion overhead. She stole a glance above her, at the tail of the beast, warped and crooked, plucked of its sharp feathers, and imbedded deeply into a wall.
From the distance something buzzed like an angry bee, distinctly through the rumbling discord as the tail arced, disappearing over the artificial horizon of the roof--
"DOWN!!" she felt her man's hand crush the poof out her hair, forcing her head down awkwardly--
*KK--RASH! *
Through another terrible, frightening crash, something passed through her hair, big and heavy, tearing at the strands. The glass let out a terrible, abrupt crack. Carefully she lifted her head up, resting the back against the rest of the chair. Locks of her hair resisted, the very extremities tugged at the whole length of the strands. They were trapped firmly into the glass beside that huge, dirty piece of flat, ragged metal, impaling the windshield halfway down its length.
"Shit!" Yune exclaimed. "That could've been your head, T!"
His good hand reached over, scooping up the taut stings in his open grasp as he smoothed over the circumference of the metal. The pale, blonde strings broke, a terrible ripping sound that made her stomach turn. Those long hours of brushing, conditioning, and shampooing, her hard work gone in an instant.
"My hair...!" she whimpered softly.
"Be grateful it isn't your brain!" he said sternly, as he pushed himself to his feet. He picked up his leg professionally, and with a good solid thrust, he forced an edge of the windshield out from the frame. Thick, solid strings of dark gunk fleetingly held fast to the glass before they snapped midway. It didn't take the Asian very long to have the entire, useless pane on the ground afterwards.
"Can you see?" he grunted while he took to his squat, head dropping below the tip-top of his door.
"Clear as this day could get." She replied. "Yeah."
"Good." The cap of black hair nodded. "Sadie, can you active your optic camouflage?"
"Sorry, Asian man." Sadie said. "But everything's shot! Weapons--guidance- -camouflage--hell--it's all gone!"
"Bullshit!" he cursed, pushing himself up so that his eyes were square with the fluctuating readout. "Are you kidding me!?"
"The bull shits you not there, Yune." Sadie said with a touch of her trademark cynicism. "I might as well be the same damn Wrangler you'd find in a Jeep lot!"
"Then we've got no choice." He shook his head grimly.
"But what about Kim?"
"Don't worry about her." He dismissed. "She can take care of herself. Till she can get down, she's on her own."
"But Yune!"
"We're sitting ducks out here!" he said sternly. "This is war, T, and welcome to it! Let's go!"
"But--!"
"Tara...!" he growled gently.
"...Yes sir...!"
She snarled bitterly, and her palms curled around the wheel once again. Lose bits of gravel and whatnot crunched and shifted underneath her as she slowly pulled away. The image of the benign copter behind her was stuck in her mirror, trapped like the girl--the hero--that dangled beneath. She angled the mirror as she rolled, the image trapped on the polished surface, till the motor behind it couldn't move any more.
The image slid off the mirror gradually, blurry and fuzzy as the wind blew in her eyes. There was something to have been noticed, she was sure of it, yet she couldn't pin her finger on it nor was she in a position to do just that.
"Will she be okay?" she thought aloud.
"Whatever may happen," a tingle ran up her back, a warm one that made her feel peaceful throughout, as she felt his hand cup gently on her shoulder, "we just have to have faith. If we believe in it strongly, then she should come out all right. The demon is in Hell now. Even if he isn't, the locals will be sure to put him there."
"I hope so, Yune." She tried to blink the dryness away. "I hope so...."
"Hello?" Hershel called through the thick door, slipping the room key card she kept for herself smoothly into the reader.
The inner workings clattered against each other sharply as she turned the handle, pushing the thick door ajar the second the little light above the slot shinned its jade blessing. The handle returned to its default with a snap.
"It's Hershel." She said through that small crack between the door and the frame. "Don't shoot. I'm here to take Ms. Stark to the airport, like we arranged."
Nothing but the still, quiet air replied through the crack, just like with the lovebirds' room next door. Routinely, her hand slipped behind the flap of her jacket, fingers questing for the grip of her pistol. The tips felt the button pop abruptly, the pieces of the bottle-cap strap parting for her fingers as they wrapped around the steel grip. She barely had it out of its leather pocket, the muzzle arcing for the ground while her shoulder shoved the heavy plank open.
Possible's room was empty, clean and orderly as though the redhead had never used it. The bed was made; its bedspread smoothed out over the mattress with a small little depression at the foot. The laptop's black screen glared at her, the light barely reflecting back her image. Two wrinkled duffel bags shared a small cot nearby.
Professionally, she kept her gun on point as she eased her body further into the room, whipping it around the corner first while her body followed second. The closet doors were wide open, and the natural light spilling inside drove out all possibility of someone inside like the very shadows that once dwelled.
Perfectly, her eyes ran over every inch of the undulated surface of the angled, egg carton foam. The .50-caliber rifle was missing, and so was the box of .357 rounds, as though she left in a hurry.
"Where'd you go, guys?" she said quietly as she holstered her gun.
--Something beeped nearby, and her hand returned to the gun instinctively but she was certain it was nothing. Though her heart did hop in her chest, she was sure it wasn't an incendiary device, not by that strange jingle. It was four notes, the third interjecting itself upon the second just at it ended, a note above the other three.
It came from one of the duffels on the cot.
She walked toward it indifferently, and her hand took the lead as it plunged into the bag, through the hole where it was unzipped. The tips of her fingers tapped against plastic, buried through several articles of clothes of varying textures. She yanked it out of the bag harshly, as if it were stuck.
In her hands, Possible's PDA beeped at her again. Something told her to thumb at the red button, between the four white ones, like she had seen her contracted functionary do. The dark screen was engulfed in a snowstorm of static when her thumb gave the button a nudge, but through the whiteout, an image filtered in, fighting back the storm. The static quickly dissipated as more of the image sifted into place. From out the speakers, her ears distinctly caught the sound of a keyboard, fingers tap dancing on it.
"Almost got it...!" a child's voice said in a loud crescendo, the last words and intensifying drawl. The screen became crystal clear with a flicker, with not a hint of static or interference, yet that has to been seen. "There!"
"Uh... who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Wade." The dark, portly child frowned. "And you must be that Hershel I keep hearing about."
"The one and only." She smirked. "But your Satellite's down for the count, last I checked. How'd you get your system back on line, and so quickly?"
"All in the card, Ms. Hershel." The boy smiled proudly. "Amazing how I didn't see it in the first place, and I'm supposed to be the genius of this outfit."
Her brow kinked, yet her eyes narrowed skeptically.
"What'd you do...?" she groaned.
"My direct line with Kim's been shot down over Jerusalem not too long ago." He said. "And after pondering this conundrum for about a half hour now, I remembered about your little mod to Kim's memory card. Since we're on the same team, I just figured I'd invite myself over to your network and servers."
"Shit!" she cursed. "If your government didn't have enough problems with us already...! Does your Department of State know about this?"
"No ma'am." He shook his head. "And after watching the news networks for the past half hour, I could really give a damn."
"Not exactly language becoming of a boy like you, Wade." She sighed. "What *exactly* has been going on?"
The boy blinked his dark eyes. "You mean you don't know?"
"No!" she moaned. "I've been getting an earful from the US Ambassador for the past half hour! I couldn't get out of it."
"Turn on the TV if one's close by." Said the boy. "After that, I'm sure that I don't need to explain what's going on."
"All right." She nodded. "Anything else?"
"The government's on to me, if they're not already. This quite possibly is the last transmission you'll ever hear from me. All I want is that Kim, Ron, and everyone else gets back safe and sound, you hear?"
"I hear you."
"Then maybe I can sleep a little easier in my cell." He shook his head. "I don't know."
"Don't worry about it." She said reassuringly. "After all's said and done, I'm sure Israel can work something out."
"I'll believe it when I see it." He sighed. "Till then, put in a good word with the big man upstairs."
"Will do."
Snow swallowed up the boy and his room in a flurry of static, mere milliseconds before Possible's trademark monogram flickered on the tiny LCD. It flickered out like a light as her thumb gave the little, red button a nudge, the rest of her fingers pocketing the PDA smoothly in the jacket pocket beside her holster.
"Might need this a little later on." She noted aloud as she strolled for the TV.
As her index traveled for the power button, sudden apprehension crept into her mind, as though something terrible waited to explode at her in a shower of dark fragments. But she shoved it off with a simple shrug of the shoulders, a blink of the eyes before she gave the tiny button a rub of her digit. The device let out a tone, high in pitch with thick, Hebrew voices taking the lead from out the speakers while the picture took its sweet time filtering in.
"This is the scene just thirty minutes ago," the faceless anchorman said--
--And a horrific curse escaped through her loose lips, knees waning in their firm lock, as a large mass of still flesh--messy, red flesh--faded in through the dark screen. Men, women, even some children littered the nameless street, their bodies still, faces frozen and twisted in that single moment of terror which took their lives so cruelly, gruesomely.
"Oh... my...!"
***
"JESUS!!" The driver beside her screamed horrifically, as though the fickle deity could actually catch her voice on His distant cloud, through all the madness surrounding. Though the girl's faith was admirable somewhat, her mysterious divinity of chosen dogma wasn't going to get them out of this mess. "HELP!!"
Kim didn't have the time, or the guts to fume her frustration. She kept her eyes on the news 'copter, hovering indifferently above her, and she kept the huge rifle clutched to her chest with both hands.
"DON'T GIVE UP, T!" Yune called through the many terrible, frightening sounds that Drazen unleashed at them from his beast. "KEEP GOING!"
"I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN!!" The blonde rejoined. "I JUST DON'T--!"
"T!!" Her lover yelled. "THIS IS NOT A CONVERSATION!! I HAVE FAITH IN YOU!! NOW DO IT!!"
She stole a blurry glance at the girl, before she retrained her head on that growing piece of benign machinery in the sky. Tara's eyes couldn't have grown any wider, her lids were cramped to the extreme while her teeth bared brightly through her lips. She wasn't sure how much more pressure the girl could take, and if there really was a god out there, she hoped deeply that he, or it wouldn't let the girl crack.
"You can run, Bin-Mok!" The beast said wryly. "But you cannot hide! I'll find you, and make you squeal like a stuck pig! You and that little German wench too!"
"I'M NOT GERMAN!!" Tara screamed back through the wind futilely.
"Sadie!" She exclaimed. "Get ready!"
"Ejection system's ready to go, Kim!" the AI replied loudly. "Just say the word!"
"Find the target's approximate position and altitude!" she barked. "Crunch the numbers, and launch me at just the right time! I'll take it from there! In the meantime, do whatever you can for Yune, and especially Tara!"
"Got it, Kim!" the bars of the equalizers on the green readout were at their maximum peaks. "Running probability scenarios now."
"Good!" her clench upon her grapple gun strangled the buoyancy out of the grip. "Tara, the target's coming up on us! Keep it straight--!"
Another fountain of dirt kicked up from the dirt with a mighty *PACK*, in front of them as Sadie barreled straight through indifferently. Granules tapped off the surface of the windshield while wet globs of earth splattered squarely on, its shape changing as it smeared near the closest edge.
"YOU WANT TO DRIVE, KIMMIE!?" Tara screamed blindly at her while she kept her eyes fixed on the road. "BE MY GUEST!!"
"WE CAN'T AFFORD YOU PISSED OFF, TARA!" She screamed back. "NOW DO IT!"
More of the news copter's dark underbelly became all the more clear the closer she got. Large embers of bright, yellow light soared through her view like meteors; crests of the many muddy fountains of earth kicked up like Old Faithful, yet she kept her eyes on the target, on the shiny, chrome skis that ran underneath it. Promptly, she draped the thick, rifle's sling over her hair, all ten fingers clenching the grapple gun strongly.
"Get ready for lift off, Kim!" Sadie called.
"Ready!" Her lungs took in a deep breath of air, her eyes closed while every single muscle ached with a tense strain. It was her only shot-- *their* only shot for survival, and unlike Ronald's video games, there were no unlimited restarts.
"Prepare for launch!" Sadie continued on attentively. Her guts felt as if they were fighting amongst themselves; a tight, gnawing feeling that made her want to lose her brunch.
Quickly, she removed a hand from her grapple, tearing open the flap of her cargos as the fingers dived straight in. She didn't know why, yet she felt this strange feeling, one that made her twisting guts shiver, as though she somehow knew that she wasn't returning anytime soon. And the lovebirds needed all the help and the breaks they could get.
"Lift off in three... two... one..."
Her last, conscious act had passed; the farewell gift laid flat inside the glove box as she moved its lid closed. Her fingers retook the grapple swiftly. All the madness, the lunacy outside the SUV seemed to fade away immediately, as all her energy, her mental processes reduced to a simple task of number association.
"LAUNCH...!"
Sadie's yell quickly fell into an abrupt silence--a hollow, gushing roar assaulted her weary ears, and her entire body felt 100 pounds heavier. Her head whipped back harshly by the sheer momentum. Her eyes opened swiftly, drying out the second they touched the brisk air that rushed up the length of her body. Yet that 'copter became so clear, as did the shiny, plated skis fastened to the underbelly.
The sun shinned brilliantly at her, its gentle warmth caressing her with its grand inattention as time simply eased to a slight crawl. Never had the blazing ball in the grand canvas of baby blue looked so beautiful.
The restraint drew awkwardly across her body as she brazenly unleashed it from its buckle. Sheer weight eased from the length of her back, especially the small of it as the chair fell away, back down to the war below, slipping her arm free from the retracting cord at the last possible moment.
Both hands retook the grapple as she gave the skis a final look, bringing up the grapple as swiftly as the air around seemingly reversed its flow on her flesh. She didn't pay her aim even a look as both indexes took up the entire length of the trigger, the hairdryer bucking gently in her hands.
Her hands barely felt the vibrations through her gloves as the cord continued its unreeling. It was her last hope. If her stainless steel savior didn't come through, she'd take a nice, clean bite of the dust that swept over the streets below.
She closed her eyes.
"Come on... --*OH!! *"
***
Uzi was getting bored.
For the past half hour, that little mudskipper slipped out of his grasp time and time again like the very, dirty fish that bared the name. The turret was scraping at the bottom of the ammunition box for rounds, though the 'copter packed many a missile a plenty. Even if the Apache was as armed as it was a half hour ago, the weapons and his patience could punish only so many.
It was time to end this bloody game of cat-and-mouse. When there was fun to be had in the last 30-plus minutes, it all was circling the drain, the sheer amusement seeping and leaking drop by drop into that endless void. Yune Bin-Mok that dirty yellow devil was going to die just like his blonde trophy in a plume of dark, smoldering fire, all at the last drop's plummet.
"Mr. U." Shia said loudly, his train derailing as he plummeted back down into dismal, dull reality. "I think someone's jumped the ship!"
"And what makes you think that, Shia?" He simple batted it right back as he took in a big yawn. "See someone roll out the target, did you?"
"No sir." The pilot replied. "But I thought I saw a chair--a damn chair--fall to the street right in front of me! You think that that Korean's trying something?"
"At this point, Bonnet," he sighed, "I don't know what to think, or what to care about. This mongrel is boring me. It's time to put a stop to this foolishness. Arm the missiles. Commence firing when the target's locked."
"What about that nosy 'copter nearby?" the pilot asked.
"*Ah*..." he yawned. "What about it?"
"As you wish, sir."
"You damn right it's my wish!" he nodded. "Let them do their job."
"Sir!"
***
All the muddy, thick fountains were all behind her and the vehicle as the very streaks of bright light pounded into the earth no more. But even with the road ahead, littered with its simple clutters, the tension had yet to lift from her body. The awesome shadow of their flawless stalker loomed over them, as light pulsated its way through the dark shade like a strobe light.
Her man quickly took up the generous amount of space that Kim's sudden departure had left, standing cautiously below the top of the door beside in a crouch. The thought of Kim egged her to whip her head back, for just a mere second, as it passed through her mind. The road ahead was perfectly straight, the nearest junction ahead encroaching slowly upon her. Boldly, she lifted her eyes away from the road.
"Yune!" She smiled weakly as she glanced at the news chopper's new passenger, scaling the dark thread cord as though it were a rope that the redhead conquered many times before in gym. "Kim made it--!"
"T, WATCH IT!!"
She felt the Asian's good hand atop her skull, shoving her eyes back down onto the road--
--And Sadie's wheels let out a whining screech, swerving the whole body of the SUV clear of the hapless girl that carelessly threw stones her way, as she stood defiantly in the middle of the road. Dust enveloped the child in a thick trail as Tara gladly left it behind.
"*Whew*..." she breathed. "That was close--!"
Her ears twitched as they caught something quiet, shallow and distant. It sounded like someone had fired a bottle rocket nearby--ten bottle rockets at least; a furious, burning hiss that seemed to intensify by the second--every hundredth of a second.
"SHIT!" Yune exclaimed vociferously. "INCOMING--!!"
The last syllable of her man's terrible howl was cut off, the very exclamation points burnt to an unrecognizable crisp as a terrible explosion blasted its way into her head, shaking her brain violently to its very core. The back half of the car lifted up gently as though a hurricane wind scooped it up into its grasp--and released it, just like that. The rear wheels came down upon the pavement like a barrel of bricks.
"*OH!! *" She forced it out though a haggard breath, giving the wheel before her a panicked spin. Her body felt like it wanted to tumble onto the man beside, and the metal around her let out a stifled moan as she felt two wheels lift from the ground.
*KRA--THUNK!! *
Yet they only returned to the ground a second later as Sadie screeched to a halt, her restraints keeping her square in the seat. Yune was less fortunate; the right half of his body crammed against the thick console miraculously, while the protruding dash propped him up.
"You okay, Yune?" she asked.
"*Uh... *" he shook his head. "I feel like a train wreck but I'll manage. Just drive!"
"Right!"
Something sounded off as she floored the accelerator, really *off*. The SUV was too still, and it didn't vibrate at all. Nothing roared out from under Sadie's hood, not even a quiet purr, though she kept the pedal planted firmly against the firewall.
"Lay off, Tara!" The AI rejoined belatedly. "I'm stalled!"
"Oh--sorry!" she shook her head, before her fingers took up the key. Her wrist gave it twist, yet her heartbeat quickened in her ears as the motor refused to turn over. The starter replied with a rolling whirr every time she gave the ignition another turn.
"Sadie," her voice was a panicked crescendo, "it's not working!!"
"I know!" Sadie said intensely. "I'm trying!"
***
Sadie had stopped altogether behind a tower of thick, smoldering cover, the mechanical stalker flanking Tara's door evenly before it as it reduced its speed well over half. The missile strike nearly killed the vehicle in a single shot, and that tenacious fanatic behind the glass would seal its fate if she hanged out any longer.
Thankfully, the nutcase paid her conspicuous exit no attention at all. The grapple was at its max, and her dryer took its sweet time reeling it back. The patience of her strength couldn't stand another second as her dryer pulled her up to a distance apart from the team's shinny, chrome savior, so close yet an arm's length too far.
She gave the grapple a second's worth of a second chance before she forced all her might down, through her arms and into her shoulders. She huffed her body up another precious inch before she brazenly threw herself into a whirlwind of chance, her puffy hair caught in the wild drag.
She clamped her eyes, as she felt the wind swirl about, embracing her flying body--
--Before an elbow smacked into a cold, solid bar of steel. Her arm curled around it like that of a monkey, her other hand snatching her wrist as the arm threatened to unwrap. It took a borrowed second while she gathered back her bearings, opening her eyes down as her legs gently waved to the world below.
"OH MAN...!" the terrible air around swallowed up her voice.
Fear quickly drained from her mind while Drazen's Apache lurched further towards its dying game. Tara and Yune protested at the plight that plagued their dying steed, smack dab in the middle of a dirty, bloody shooting gallery of their hunter's making.
Training took control as both hands snatched the bar, and she pumped her legs back and forth like a gymnast. At her forward movement's extreme, she removed her hand of the bar, using momentum to flip her body around on the bar efficiently. She gave her body a few more pumps--
--And her breasts were crammed against her chest as she brought her knees close, driving her legs through the space between the body and the ski. It was sheer luck that she negotiated the rifle's bulky gas break through the space at all. The backs of her knees pinched the bar tightly, and the back of her head touched the very bottom of the copter's body.
Carefully, she worked the butt of the rifle against her shoulder, her cheek pressing against the rough stock. Her left eye closed, the lid cramming into itself while her right peered through the scope, eying that little gyrocopter on the target's tail nicely. She could only manage one shot; there were no more bullets to be used. The strong chill sweeping up her back reminded her strongly of it. It had to count, no doubt about it.
Her brain gave her foot one last command while her finger took up the trigger's slack, her ankle rolling as she felt the string of the grapple wrap around it snugly.
*God... Yahweh--Allah--whoever you really are, * her mind whispered, *don't let me screw up! *
Her lips finished the thought completely in a single, silent word.
"Please...!"
***
The soldering tower of fire took its time, dissolving into the air slowly, shielding his target behind its arced, thinning veil fleetingly. Uzi felt the frustration surge through his arms, his hand trembling while the parts of his combat load rattled. That yellow devil couldn't get away; he *wouldn't* let him slip through his grasp again.
"Shia!" he barked. "The target's stopped! Do you have a visual?"
"No sir!" the pilot called back. "The smoke's too thick! And the fire below renders our infrared and our heat seekers useless!"
"How much ammo's left for our turret?"
"We're running pretty low on it sir!"
"You can bet your ass they're not going to wait!" he thought openly in loud exclamation. "We have to hit them now, and hit them hard! Shia, unless you want to make this Indian do a fucking rain dance, get back on the machine gun! Spray and pray till you're dry! Then hit them with another TOW!"
"You got it, Mr. U!" the pilot replied.
"Where's Avi?"
"He's hauling ass, sir!" Shia said. "His team just passed through a checkpoint now."
"Tell him to haul a freaking elephant's ass then!" he yelled.
"Sir!"
Through the thinning, shifting column of darkness, a slight headache pounded behind his crown as his only working eye peered deeply in. He could just barely make out a streak of red, solid red that belonged not to the hot patches of fire. The target was still there, parked intrepidly, perpendicular to the street it sat on. Yune egged at him sinisterly, the yellow devil just had to be!
"Yes!" a smug grin tugged at his lips. "He's still there! Shia, fire at will!"
"Sir--!"
He felt his body shift oddly in the seat as the steel around him vibrated gently, strangely.
"Shia?" he laid his back evenly against the seat. The utter vibrations passed from the machine, through the shards imbedded in his skull that sliced a green, nauseous crack into his brain. The very sides of his sight curled up slightly, as though the world teased him with a gentle, hidden smile, the very prelude to its off the cuff dance around his head. "*Oh...! * What... the heck's--going on!"
"Don't know, Sir!" Shia's voice was in a panicked crescendo. "Pedals are feeling *really* rough--!"
As if his gut wasn't churning enough, his brain trembled violently in his skull as the Apache felt like it was calling forth a rain shower in a terrible, shaky dance. Thin wisps of black blew in gently from behind, disappearing into the air as soon as they revealed themselves.
Shia screamed something terribly, like an adolescent girly girl about to get her kidneys removed with a plastic knife.
"*UGH! *" He grunted hoarsely. "What...?"
"THE TAIL'S BEEN HIT!!" The pilot screamed like pansy. "THE TAIL'S BEEN HIT!!"
He blinked in awe as those words sank quickly into that nauseating crack in his mind.
"Are--YOU SERIOUS!?" he yelled back.
"NO, I'M NOT!!" Shia screamed again. "YOU WANT ME TO CALL DR. PHIL!? JUST TO BE SURE!?"
Another wisp of thin black smoke floated past his window, which caused him to crane his neck over to the right. That interloping 'copter from the Channel 2 network hovered there, indifferent to his trouble while the celluloid kept rolling behind their lenses. A crewman was so bold; he brazenly sat dangerously upon a ski as if it were nothing but a bench in the park--
*What the...? *
It him just like the objects that pummeled the chopper's tail. That person was as much a newsman as much as that object s/he held was a TV camera. It all came together like clockwork during a rally race, as he was certain that a flowing mane of red capped the head of the sniper.
"WELL SIR!!" Shia carried on his irrelevant tirade like a bratty, little girl. "DO YOU!?"
"It can't be...!" the words came out hushed through his clenched teeth, his lips slipping back, over the smooth enamel easily as he seethed. His whole body shook with such a rage, that the fitful Indian had no bearing on him whatsoever. Never had anything--everything appeared so red before. "NO-- !!"
***
Kim felt she was at the very apex of her game, as she sent another heavy round crashing through the tail of the Major's beast; her rump parked firmly on the bar miraculously. Its very life flowed from the open wound as though it were attacked in the dead of winter, blackness oozed profusely while steam escaped it in dark, thin plumes.
Irony was ingrained deep within the pockmarks: the native's of her own country believed this very thing.
The tail began to weave and bob erratically as control slipped from his fingers literally. The little tail rotor wobbled strangely, as though its very edges morphed and shifted before her eyes. The mysterious god must have been feeling generous; He seemingly reached down his powerful hand, and single-handedly plucked the mighty Indian of the feathers one by one, as they sliced through the sky aimlessly.
The Indian's trembling rage quickly overwhelmed it, as its body went careening out of control. Its tail scraped against the nearest building, and a slice of plaster and granite exploded at the touched, pieces showering down upon any who unfortunately stood.
Weight of its massive, streamlined head carried the body over the roof of the building. God yet again reached His hand down, and tore at the native's spinning headdress, tossing the pieces every which way imaginable. The mysterious deity wasn't as forgiving as she thought, as a thin, black line cut at her with incredible speed. It sliced right through the 'copter body above her, and out from the line came terrible yelps of a deadly surprise.
"Whoa...!" she said as the ski beneath her pressed against her bum, the copter rolling towards its side swiftly. The cloth of her cargos was loosing grip upon the chrome, and her body bent at the waist as she slipped through the space behind her. But the strength of her grapple line gave her all the comfort she needed, though it did squeeze tightly around her ankle.
A terrible crash resounded from behind the upside down building, the building shook with a mighty rumble while a cloud of dust sprouted up behind it like a mushroom--
The earth shook no more, as the Indian trembled in its rage no more. Its fate had been sealed, the Palestinians could fear no more, courtesy of the great, teen hero, Kim Possible. Uzi was finished.
***
Tara got Sadie's engine to purr in the nick of time, with the eighth twist of the key, as pebbles and chunks mysteriously began to fall to the pavement. The rapping of the stones, her ears barley caught it through a tremendous explosion overhead. She stole a glance above her, at the tail of the beast, warped and crooked, plucked of its sharp feathers, and imbedded deeply into a wall.
From the distance something buzzed like an angry bee, distinctly through the rumbling discord as the tail arced, disappearing over the artificial horizon of the roof--
"DOWN!!" she felt her man's hand crush the poof out her hair, forcing her head down awkwardly--
*KK--RASH! *
Through another terrible, frightening crash, something passed through her hair, big and heavy, tearing at the strands. The glass let out a terrible, abrupt crack. Carefully she lifted her head up, resting the back against the rest of the chair. Locks of her hair resisted, the very extremities tugged at the whole length of the strands. They were trapped firmly into the glass beside that huge, dirty piece of flat, ragged metal, impaling the windshield halfway down its length.
"Shit!" Yune exclaimed. "That could've been your head, T!"
His good hand reached over, scooping up the taut stings in his open grasp as he smoothed over the circumference of the metal. The pale, blonde strings broke, a terrible ripping sound that made her stomach turn. Those long hours of brushing, conditioning, and shampooing, her hard work gone in an instant.
"My hair...!" she whimpered softly.
"Be grateful it isn't your brain!" he said sternly, as he pushed himself to his feet. He picked up his leg professionally, and with a good solid thrust, he forced an edge of the windshield out from the frame. Thick, solid strings of dark gunk fleetingly held fast to the glass before they snapped midway. It didn't take the Asian very long to have the entire, useless pane on the ground afterwards.
"Can you see?" he grunted while he took to his squat, head dropping below the tip-top of his door.
"Clear as this day could get." She replied. "Yeah."
"Good." The cap of black hair nodded. "Sadie, can you active your optic camouflage?"
"Sorry, Asian man." Sadie said. "But everything's shot! Weapons--guidance- -camouflage--hell--it's all gone!"
"Bullshit!" he cursed, pushing himself up so that his eyes were square with the fluctuating readout. "Are you kidding me!?"
"The bull shits you not there, Yune." Sadie said with a touch of her trademark cynicism. "I might as well be the same damn Wrangler you'd find in a Jeep lot!"
"Then we've got no choice." He shook his head grimly.
"But what about Kim?"
"Don't worry about her." He dismissed. "She can take care of herself. Till she can get down, she's on her own."
"But Yune!"
"We're sitting ducks out here!" he said sternly. "This is war, T, and welcome to it! Let's go!"
"But--!"
"Tara...!" he growled gently.
"...Yes sir...!"
She snarled bitterly, and her palms curled around the wheel once again. Lose bits of gravel and whatnot crunched and shifted underneath her as she slowly pulled away. The image of the benign copter behind her was stuck in her mirror, trapped like the girl--the hero--that dangled beneath. She angled the mirror as she rolled, the image trapped on the polished surface, till the motor behind it couldn't move any more.
The image slid off the mirror gradually, blurry and fuzzy as the wind blew in her eyes. There was something to have been noticed, she was sure of it, yet she couldn't pin her finger on it nor was she in a position to do just that.
"Will she be okay?" she thought aloud.
"Whatever may happen," a tingle ran up her back, a warm one that made her feel peaceful throughout, as she felt his hand cup gently on her shoulder, "we just have to have faith. If we believe in it strongly, then she should come out all right. The demon is in Hell now. Even if he isn't, the locals will be sure to put him there."
"I hope so, Yune." She tried to blink the dryness away. "I hope so...."