"What the fu--?"
For the umpteenth time the words escaped Warrick's mouth. He had a split second to take in the sight of the men - five of them? Six? The men appeared to be mostly of Asian descent. Though each carried what appeared to be an automatic at their hip, the guns remained holstered, undoubtedly in deference to the residential setting. Regardless, their bulk and number left little doubt as to who would win were they to tangle.
He grabbed Nick's arm hard, pulling him up from off his chair and dragging him to the back of the room. His hand snatched up the fallen baseball trophy and his famous pitching arm aided him as he threw the metal and marble object at the closest man. The trophy hit the man square in the jaw, causing him to stumble and fall as he grabbed at his face. His presence on the floor temporarily blocked the approach of two of the others, the furniture in the small living room creating a labyrinth the other thugs were thankfully lost in, the darkness a surprising help. He saw Nick's hand reach for his weapon but he shook his head in warning and continued pulling him until they hit the stairs. The two men took great striding leaps up the narrow wooden stairway and entered the master bedroom at the end of the hall.
Warrick shut the door behind him and twisted the lock shut. The door was nicely built, solid oak, but a few good hits and it would go down, no doubt about it. He gestured with his head at a sliding door at the back of the room and Nick dashed over to it, flipping the lock open and throwing the door to the side.
The sound of pounding feet on the wooden stairs signaled the approach of their guests to the second floor.
The two men stood on a small balcony covered in potted plants and containing two heavy metal chairs with thick outdoor padding. Warrick slid the door shut behind him and pulled the furniture in front of the door, knowing it would only give them an extra second. Nick had already thrown a leg over the wrought iron railing and was swinging his body over. He dangled a moment, then dropped heavily, a small noise escaping him as his already sore ankle struck the lawn. He looked up to see Warrick's form emerging on this side of the railing, the taller man hanging, then dropping with an equally ungraceful thud.
Nick grabbed Warrick's hand and pulled him up off the ground, Rick's feet barely under him before Nick was pulling him under the porch and against the back side of the house.
The sounds of grunts and flesh hitting solid metal floated down from above.
He threw a quick glance upstairs to see three men crowded on the balcony, staring down, one of the men already swinging a leg over to continue the pursuit.
Nick was leaning against the back of the house panting heavily. His gun was now out in his hand and he had his car keys out in the other. The two men looked at each other, no words exchanged, and simultaneously kicked off from the house and ran around the side to the front lawn.
One of their would be attackers saw them and began to emerge from the front of the house but Nick pointed his gun at him and the man slowed, throwing up his hands in surrender, a tight icy smile on his face. The confident smile of knowing he had the greater power behind him; that this was acknowledged as only temporary. They made it unscathed out to the curb and pulled up outside Nick's Tahoe. Two other vehicles were pulled up behind his, a sedan and an SUV.
Nick jerked his keys out, pressed the button that disarmed his security system and automatically unlocked the doors. Warrick barreled past him in his attempt to reach the passenger side as Nick yanked open his door and flung his body inside. He risked a quick look backwards as the group of thugs from the backyard came out front.
Nick threw the truck in reverse, his tires squealing as the truck spun sharply backwards. He shifted into drive and thumped his foot on the accelerator speeding away from the curb, and shifting the vehicle harshly to avoid other parked cars.
Their pursuers had abandoned the chase in the last seconds, and clambered into their respective cars and raced after them. Nick alternated desperate glances at the rearview mirror while he tried to stay focused on the road ahead of him.
"We should call for back up, Man," he breathed heavily.
Warrick turned halfway in his seat, keeping an eye on two vehicles fast on their trail. He gripped the seat handle and propped his other hand on the dash. "We can't. He monitors all cell phone activity," he replied, grunting as the car swerved in a crazed fashion.
Nick growled his frustration. "I'm not Jeff Gordon, Dude. Driving at these speeds around here is fucking nuts." He looked over at his speedometer where the needle was passing 80 miles per hour.
"We got an Audi and a Grand Cherokee right on our ass." Warrick cautioned. He glanced over to see Nick checking his mirror. "I'll let you know where they're at. You keep your eyes on the road."
Nick barreled down a semi-crowded highway. It was late at night and traffic wasn't nearly as bad as it could be, but other cars were on the road and Nick didn't like the idea of playing Dodge 'Em with innocent people. He passed by other cars, struggling to maintain control of his truck. He saw a green light at the next intersection and pressed harder on the gas. As he zoomed closer the light switched to yellow and to red almost immediately. Nick cursed and stomped on the gas pedal even more as he willed the car through the intersection before he caused a wreck.
"What the Hell? You see how fast that light changed?" he blurted as he turned a corner and headed east.
Warrick tensed as both vehicles followed right behind them, oblivious to the panic it caused in their wake. Car horns blared as a minivan swerved to miss the Jeep and Audi on their tail.
"Hold on!" Nick warned as the car went down a steep hill. The truck bounced, causing its occupants to do the same in their seats. Nick braced himself with one arm and tried to switch lanes.
Warrick used his right foot to hold his body still, as he kept himself turned around to watch the other vehicles. "Audi's making a run at us. Comin' up your left side, Nick!"
Nick maneuvered the truck into the left lane to block the attempt.
"Cherokee is switching to our right, Man," Warrick warned as the bad guys tried to come around.
Nick started shifting his truck side to side to keep both cars off balance, while striving valiantly to avoid hitting any other vehicles. He had to lurch hard to the left to avoid a motorcycle in his upcoming lane then moved right back into his current one to try to keep the guys chasing them from trying to get past them.
Nick saw the next light up ahead; it was red, but as they got closer he prayed for a quick change. It switched to green, which caused him to put more weight on the accelerator, but as they got within a few feet it changed back to red.
"Damn it!" he snarled as he ran the light, a Honda almost colliding with their driver side, and the CSI twisted the wheel to avoid another crash.
"Shit. These damn lights are goin' haywire, Man!" he yelled in frustration.
Warrick's eyes narrowed as the implications struck him. He averted his eyes from the people chasing them to gaze out the window, as he searched for something specific. Warrick eyed one of the light posts and spotted the suspect equipment perched on top of the light relay box. As they drew closer to the intersection, the traffic light flipped red at their approach.
"That bastard!" he seethed as Nick speed through the intersection.
Nick was dripping wet from perspiration running down his head, his T-shirt was soaked through. His jaw felt like it was going to break from clenching it so hard. "What? What's going on?"
Warrick braced himself as the Jeep and Audi both took their chances to come up on each side. "The Voice is controlling the traffic lights, using the surveillance cameras at every intersection."
Nick didn't have time to respond as the Cherokee slammed into the passenger side causing the truck to veer into the other lane and oncoming traffic. Nick swerved to the left to pass by a Ford and swung back into his original lane.
"Go to a side road, Man. The Voice is tracking us with cameras."
Nick searched his rearview as the Audi started to speed past him. He saw the SUV follow behind the first car as they planned on hitting the driver side with a one-two punch. Thinking quickly, Nick slammed on the brakes and watched each car rocket by. He turned right and accelerated down a side street, removing them from the watchful eyes of the traffic surveillance cameras.
"Nice!" Warrick hollered as they moved down the small road at lightning speed.
Nick franticly searched the road in front of him for another side alley, anywhere that could hide which direction they took. "Who the hell are those guys, Man?" He risked a glance towards his partner.
Warrick continued to search behind him as well as through the windshield for any hint of trouble. "I-I'm sorry, Man. Damn it!" Warrick slammed his fist onto the dash hard enough to cause him some pain.
Nick held his partner's gaze for a moment, his expression more concerned then pissed. "They took a lot of chances to try to grab us, Bro. What's all this talk about security cameras and watchin' us? Who's got you so freaked, Man?"
Warrick ran his hand over his face as Nick continued to turn onto smaller side streets, driving deeper into non-residential areas, and closer to the warehouse district. Nick kept an eye out for mysterious cars and headed down another road that lead them further way from any neighborhoods. The streets and area were getting more isolated, and the realization made him nervous. It would be harder for the bad guys to locate them, but any chance of locating a patrol car became slimmer.
Warrick pointed his finger towards a small road sign. "If you go down there, it'll take us over to the meat packing plant. We can hide your truck and talk."
Nick veered the car in that direction. He needed to stay focused, and knew his answer would be forthcoming. He steered his truck forward until the Grand Cherokee materialized out of nowhere into view and blocked his path. Nick slammed on the brakes to avoid crashing into the mass of metal.
"Damn it!" Warrick cursed and both men looked in the rear mirror to see the Audi pull up behind them
Nick felt his heart race as the passenger door of the Jeep opened and one of the Asian thugs pulled out a gun and pointed it in the direction of the windshield. Whatever qualms their attackers had had about using their weapons in a residential area were now moot.
"Get down!" Nick shouted as they ducked. The erupting gunfire echoed loudly in the deserted rundown area. Two slugs ripped through the driver side window, while the other bullets hit the grille and ricocheted around the vehicle.
Nick kept his body under the dashboard. Keeping his hand on the gearshift he threw the stick in reverse as his foot pressed on the accelerator. The truck raced backwards as the heavy back end of the truck smashed into the Audi's front end. Metal crunched and the truck slammed the smaller car hard enough to knock it out of the way. Nick maneuvered until he spun his truck around. They stayed hunched down as Nick drove forward at lightning speed, only peeking upwards long enough to catch a glimpse of the rushing asphalt.
Satisfied that he wasn't going to get his head blown off, Nick sat straighter as he drove like mad away from the racing SUV that was in hot pursuit behind them. "These guys are relentless," Nick swore under his breath.
Warrick searched for any sign or area where they could lose the goons, and growled in frustration. Rundown warehouses, abandoned buildings, and a dumping ground for industrial waste surrounded them. As they drove the area grew more wide open, with various metal obstacles littering the entire vicinity. Dumpsters, storage containers, piles of junk were scattered around, making the chase hazardous on every level.
The Cherokee was gaining speed as it moved towards the driver side. Nick cast a sideways look, and felt his cheeks flush with anger. "Screw this! ... Hold on, Warrick!"
Nick jerked on the steering wheel hard and slammed his side of the vehicle along the SUV's passenger side. The truck shuddered, but it caused the Cherokee to lose control for a moment and show their pursers that they could be aggressive as well. Nick saw Warrick stare at him in shock. He glanced at him for a second.
"My truck's heavier, theirs is faster."
Warrick's eyes widened in disbelief and he actually allowed a tiny smile in the midst of all the chaos. "Balls of steel, Bro," he remarked.
Nick didn't have time to laugh as the SUV was gaining on them again. Nick timed the car's approach as they barreled down the industrial back lots, at speeds way too fast for safety. The Cherokee inched closer; Nick tightened his grip on the wheel but waited for his moment. Just as the other car started to swing over to bang them again, Nick pulled sharply and knocked his vehicle alongside the goon's Jeep. The momentum sent the Cherokee into a truck trailer.
The bad guys' car crumpled as Nick floored the accelerator. The CSIs heard the sounds of a gun going off and dipped their heads again. The sounds of bullets faded as they put more distance between them. The thugs continued firing until one of bullets connected with a driver side tire. The thing blew, causing Nick to lose control of the truck.
Nick wrestled with the steering, the leather-wrapped wheel slipping under his sweat slickened grip. The Tahoe wrestled with him and won, the heavy truck's momentum carrying them in a sickening 90-degree turn, the vehicle's weight left on only one operating tire. The truck tipped on its driver side and skidded along the ground emitting a trail of fireworks-like sparks as metal scraped on asphalt.
The Tahoe came to rest against an industrial building, snugging up against the solid brick wall, just short of smashing into it.
Warrick blinked and raised a hand to his face. Something wet had dripped into his eyes and he pulled his hand away to find fresh blood on it. He put his fingers to his right temple and winced at the pain there, his fingertips providing evidence of the blood's source. The window to his right had a star shaped crack from where his head had hit the window.
His seatbelt had held him snuggly in his seat, but his shoulder throbbed where the fabric had wrenched against it.
Wiping viciously at his eyes to clear them he looked to his left, then down at Nick, still in his driver seat. The driver side door and steering wheel airbags had deployed and his friend was swathed in a cocoon of deployed fabric and airbag powder.
Warrick reached out a hand and shook Nick's shoulder, gratified to see his friend look up groggily and give him a game smile. He echoed with his own relieved smile.
"You okay, Partner?" he asked.
"Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
"You're bleeding, Bud."
"S'okay." He paused for a moment. There was no sound of gunfire at the moment, but that could mean the thugs were out and headed for the truck.
Nick understood the concern and handed Warrick the gun that he'd had on his lap. He nodded as Nick gestured with his head to the passenger side door.
Warrick unbuckled stiffly and grabbed the door handle. Locked. Praying the power locks still worked he thumbed the release and was relieved to hear the click of the lock popping. He opened the door and levered himself partway out the opening. A quick glance around them showed Nick had managed to get them around the corner from where they had last seen the Cherokee. Their last sight of the Cherokee he had was of a crumpled mess as it struck the tractor-trailer. It looked like the collision had put the Cherokee out of commission. But the operators were another story.
"We're clear for now. We gotta get out though. You need a hand, Bro?"
"Yeah," Nick said with a pain filled smile. "Actually, I do. One's not working so good." He raised his left arm slowly to show a hand that had been badly mangled in the wreck. "Think it got pinned between the seat and the door."
"Shit, Man. Alright, gimme your right hand."
Nick paused to pop his seatbelt and release the belt and shoulder strap back. His right hand rose to link with Warrick's.
Warrick braced himself, one foot on the console, the other on the dash and pulled with all his might as Nick groaned and pushed up off the doorframe. The deployed air bags snagged at him and he tried to brush them free with his injured hand, sucking in his breath at the pain, so Warrick released his right hand to give him a chance to extricate himself.
Warrick scrambled up out of the opened door and perched spider like across the opening, his hand shooting back down into the cab and taking hold of Nick's right hand again.
With the leverage of his legs and arms, and his better purchase on the flat surface of the side of the truck he braced and pulled, Nick fumbling for places to put his feet. He finally put one booted foot on the center console and pushed up and out, released from the smashed truck like a cork from a bottle.
The two men took a moment to breath heavily, laying themselves out on the side of the truck. The sounds of shouts from around the corner cut their respite short.
Warrick jumped down and held out a hand that was ignored. Nick sucked in a breath and jumped down to land next to his partner, his jump ending in a wince and him hopping on one leg for a moment. Warrick tossed him a look then grabbed his arm and bodily forced him forward.
Nick tucked his mangled hand under his armpit for protection and the two took off down the alley along the building.
The two men kept to the alleys, seeking refuge in the dark shadows cast by the security lights that shone from some of the buildings. They ran without speaking, their pounding footsteps and ragged breathing the only sound.
After fifteen minutes both men were about to fall on their faces with exhaustion. Adrenaline was only able to carry them so far and they collapsed in the frame of a building's delivery entrance. Their stood with their backs against the doors, their chests heaving as they each gasped for breath. Each time they exhaled silvery plumes of vapor coalesced around them.
Warrick's head wound hadn't stopped bleeding and he wiped angrily at the blood that once again clouded his vision.
Nick sat cradling his hand, his head bent back to open his air passages and breathe in the cool night air.
"You…think…we …lost 'em?" Nick panted out between deep intakes of oxygen.
"Yeah…yeah ..I think we did." Warrick tossed his own head back and gulped air, waiting for the hammering to slow in his chest. He coughed as the cold air hit his raspy throat.
"Shit, Man. What the hell did you get into, Rick? What the fuck is going on?" Nick turned his head, continuing to breathe heavily, and waited for a response.
Warrick closed his eyes and opened his mouth as if to answer when the cell phone in his pocket rang. He opened his eyes and stared at Nick, pulling the phone out with obvious reluctance.
"Brown" he answered, his heart sinking with the knowledge of who would be at the other end.
"Mr. Brown. You surprise me. I thought you loved your wife."
"Fuck you, Man. Leave her alone!"
"Ahhh, the coarseness of the English language has always entertained me. We have no comparable phrase to your particularly favorite epithet."
"Yeah, well I got some more 'epithets' for you, asshole! Why are you doing this?"
"You know very well why, Mr. Brown. And you also know what you need to do to stop all of this. However, you seem quite unwilling to cooperate…in fact, against my express direction you now have someone aiding you. Nicholas Stokes. A fellow CSI, I see…"
Warrick dashed a quick look at Nick, knowing his partner couldn't hear The Voice's end of the conversation.
"Mr. Stokes has had quite the run of bad luck, I see," The Voice continued. "Interesting… I look forward to finding out more about your unfortunate friend. The power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the forces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties, dangers and distances, constitutes the test of a great general. He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his knowledge into practice, will win his battles. For the good of all of those you care for, Mr. Brown, I strongly suggest that you reconsider my demand."
tbc...
A/N at my bio.