When they had reached Potrero, the Chief started his battery-operated radio set. It was sending some modern music.
Then he pulled out the antenna of his powerful mobile radio transmitter as far as possible and started to send the music over the police radio frequency.
It would not jam the police radio communication of the entire town, but it would sure exacerbate the work of his colleagues'.
Yuri and Ed ran on, through gardens and parks, along narrow roads, upwards and downwards, using stairs whenever there were some, because there at least the cars could not follow them – and because it was obvious that they were able to run and climb faster than those who tried to follow them on foot.
Ed showed Yuri how to use a fire ladder in a creative way by leaping from one platform to the next.
But then they reached a dead end again. Yuri jumped up and pulled himself onto a concrete wall. Ed followed and managed to grab the top edge of the wall too, but at this point he was too beat to get his body onto the wall. Yuri helped him up. This man's strength was astonishing!
On the other side the ground was much deeper down. Yuri jumped down and landed in a dive roll to soften the impact.
Ed hesitated just for a second. This would not do any good to his back, which was his weak point since it had been injured in Vietnam. Then he heard the next car approach and followed the top athlete.
After three quarters of an hour Ironside stopped interfering with the police radio.
The police had mobile radio direction finders. If they stayed in the same place for too long they would be detected.
"Mark, drive me to Nob Hill!"
Minutes later the policemen were entertained by non-stop information from the weather channel.
Before Yuri and Ed reached the next corner they heard a screeching sound, then a crash: a car accident. One of the cars was a black and white.
The runners turned around. Ed headed towards the entrance to the metro. A moving stairway led down to the tracks, another up from there. Ed hopped onto the handrails, one leg on each side of it, and slid swiftly downwards. It was not the first time he did that; of course up to now it had always been in the line of duty, when he'd had to pursue some teenagers.
Yuri wondered briefly about this unusual way of moving, then he shrug his shoulders and did likewise. It was quite an efficient way of getting downwards.
Behind them somebody hollered. Were their hunters so close? Unfortunately, there was no metro around right now. After a short glance back Yuri ran into the tunnel.
"You are crazy!" shouted Ed, yet he had no choice but to follow the athlete.
This time Ed had trouble with Yuri's tempo. Then he even heard an approaching train. Yuri jumped up to a niche in the wall, the only possibility to avoid getting hit by the train. Ed took up speed and in the nick of time Yuri pulled him up, out of harm's way and into the niche.
Ed grinned: "Thanks pal, that was close!"
The train rushed past them, ruffling their hair. A little shaken they ran on.
Distinctly Ed felt the difference between an Olympic champion in long distance running and an ex-marine. Still there was nothing he could do but to give his best.
Without further troubles, but exhausted – at least as far as Ed was concerned - they reached the next metro station.
Yuri, who was still in the lead, used the escalator to run upwards. When the crowd from the incoming metro blocked his way, he unceremoniously jumped over the handrails and continued his ascent – against the moving stairways!
How had he done that? Ed caught the handrails and crossed over, not without difficulties. Out of breath he fought his way up to the street.
Yuri grabbed his shoulder and pointed upwards: people with dark hats in two cars which looked all too much as if they belonged to the KGB or the CIA – whichever – were awaiting them. From the other side a police car with blue lights and siren approached.
"It's becoming tight…," Ed commented. Yuri was well aware of that.
Brown's gaze stopped at the decoration of a house across the street. Somebody had put some little snowmen in papier-mâché in front of their house, obviously some kind of Christmas or winter decoration. They were arranged on two skateboards.
Ed had been at College when he had first seen such a piece of sports equipment. He had immediately taken a liking to skating and bought a board himself. Later this sport had been forbidden because of some severe accidents, and this was probably the reason why these boards were being used for decorative purposes.
"Come on!" he whispered and pulled Yuri's sleeve. Quickly he crossed the street. A little boy was standing in the door of the house across.
"May we borrow these? We will bring them back tomorrow, scout's honor!" Ed promised, pointing at the skateboards. Surprised the boy nodded and re-arranged the little snowmen on the ground.
Yuri's eyes were popping out of his head when Ed jumped onto one of the skateboards and took off at breakneck speed. Reluctantly he put his feet onto the vehicle which he did not consider very trustworthy…
After half an hour of detailed weather forecasts Ironside stopped the transmission and listened to the messages coming through now. They sounded almost incredible: Two men had either gone crazy or they wanted to make fool of the police… and of two secret services, Ironside added silently. But he was afraid that Ed and Yuri would not be able to escape much longer.
A short crackle from the radio announced another incoming message.
"We have further information about the thieves: the more athletic of the two young men involved is a Russian. His name is Yuri Alexeyovich Azneyeff, a member of the Soviet team of long-distance runners."
Ironside held his breath. Did they know that Ed was with Yuri?
The message went on: "The second man is unidentified up to now. Right now they are following 19th Street on skateboards, at a dangerously high speed. This violation of traffic rules only shows their recklessness."
Mark threw the Chief an incredulous look. "Our square, straight, model Sergeant doing a forbidden sport? I can't believe it!"
Meanwhile the voice in the radio added: "…they are to be considered as armed and dangerous."
That was all they needed! Now Ed's and Yuri's lives were at stake.
And even if they were caught alive, be it by the police or by the CIA, Ed's career on the force would be finished at any rate. After all the mischief he had accomplished today it would be impossible to talk him out this time. And he, Ironside, had sent him on this mission in the first place!
Ed Brown was more than a promising young officer. He was the next thing to a son he would ever have. What could he do to help him and Yuri?
First and foremost it was time for another round of music on the police radio. Of course they had to send from another place again.
Ed and Yuri were still on the run. Surprisingly the police did not seem to have a plan to catch them.
That was their only relief though. Ed had thought that he was quite fit, but after hours of playing cops and robbers – and always being robbers – he knew that he would never like this game again. Ever.
Right now there were no black and whites, no black limousines and no running men behind them. Instead there was a phone booth within reach.
Ed decided to use it and call for help.
The car phone pulled Ironside out of his depressing thoughts about his assistant. It was Eve.
"Chief, I was in contact with your friend." To make sure that nobody could understand her message she had to use code words. "I told him about your old friends. He will try to get there, but there are troubles."
She was telling him! Ironside thought.
She went on: "He will try to get there by car. He may need your help."
Ironside had found some kind of 'conspiracy dwelling' for Yuri. It was the apartment of some old friends. The couple were not home, but their daughter Rosalyn had agreed to help.
Obviously Ed had finally managed to phone Eve and she had given him the address.
It was the last sentence which worried him: Of course he would need help. What would be the best way to give it to him?
Ironside decided to join the persecutors.
Stepping out of the phone booth Ed already heard the sirens of police cars. They sent a chill down his spine. It was a strange feeling; they had never done that before.
On the opposite side of the street he saw a young woman get out of a small yellow car, a Volkswagen beetle.
He hurried over to her and showed her his badge. "Madam, this is an emergency. Would you please lend me your car?"
The girl did not notice the ID. She had only eyes for the winsome young man who came out of nowhere and talked to her so kindly.
Readily she gave him her car keys, beaming with joy.
"I suppose the car papers are in the glove compartment, right? I will contact you as soon as possible. And at the earliest possible date I will take you out for dinner in return for your help, agreed?"
"We have a date!" she breathed and took a step back to let him get into her car.
"Thank you, ma'am!" With a short wave Ed started the VW. It was awfully narrow for two tall men, but they were both more than happy to have it.
Ed was also glad that he had already turned the next corner when the first black and white closed in on them. What would the girl – he didn't even know her name – what would she think if she knew that her car was being pursued by the police?
As cool as ice Yuri opened the glove compartment. There he found not only the car papers, but also the girl's driver's license. "You have a date with a certain Madeleine Durrer," he stated.
"That's good to know," Ed smirked.
The laughter stuck in Yuri's throat when Ed drove the VW into the next road which was surely not meant to be used by motor cars.
During the following chase across San Francisco he was tempted to protect his eyes with his hands, but then he had to preserve his honor. He had to admit that the Sergeant knew his town well, and these Americans seemed to be born in cars: Ed drove backwards almost as often as forwards, because his way was blocked by black and whites or – several times – by cars wedged into one another. The three forces which were trying to catch them did not work too well together. Fortunately. In addition to that the small car was of course able to pass through bottlenecks and under bridges where most other cars had to stay behind.
Nevertheless the Sergeant started to gradually show signs of exhaustion. His forehead was covered with sweat, his driving became almost awkward. More than once he was lucky not to graze the corners he turned too fast. And the pursuers were getting very close…