Here's the second chapter. I would like to thank Grey Wolf4 for reviewing and giving me some feedback and ideas, as well as sending me a lot more Pms than I usually get.
Streaking through the night like a dart, the sleek Corvette ZR1 made its way down the deserted expressway. There were two occupants, one driver and one hostage.
"You're not going to kill me." Kinoshita suddenly declared from the passenger seat.
"You're right." Fujima replied while he guided the Corvette. "You're too valuable to me."
"But if you let me go, I'm sure we could negotiate something that works for you and us."
"I'm not letting you go. You're my ace card. You will guarantee me safe passage. Either the National Police Agency pay 3 billion yen or they let me go peacefully, or they never see their Assistant Inspector again." Fujima deliberately left out the part where he would kill Kinoshita as soon as they got to international waters.
All of a sudden, a bright light shone upon the road and upon the gray American supercar. Fujima looked in his mirror to see a helicopter behind the Chevrolet.
"Driver." The pilot declared. "Stop your vehicle. Come out with your hands up. Let the hostage go."
"You see that?" Kinoshita spoke again. "The chopper's onto you. There's no way you can outrun a helicopter."
"That's what you think..." Fujima's lips curved into a smirk. Suddenly, he slammed the gear shifter home and punched the gas pedal. 640 horsepower was once again transferred forcefully to the tarmac and both occupants of the Corvette were shoved back into their seats like a sumo wrestler had just sat on them. The Corvette shot forward, moving faster than the helicopter could go. Within seconds, they were at 320km/h (200mph).
"Holy crap!" The co-pilot yelled.
"Damn!" The pilot confirmed. "No wonder the ground units couldn't catch him."
"Two bikes and a GT-R, and this guy outruns them like they were in reverse." The co-pilot answered, recalling the highway patrol's previous attempts to stop Fujima.
"Damn right."
"But this is a helicopter, we have to keep up with him!" The co-pilot yelled as the Corvette raced farther away.
"This is a Bell 412 'copter, it can only go up to 260km/h (160mph)! That car cruises that that speed!"
"Dammit!"
Having outran the chopper, Fujima turned off his lights. He was now going almost blind, but as the road was straight and lightly lit, he didn't have to worry about crashing. Maintaining his high speed, he blew by a police speed trap.
"This is Chubu Precinct 9, what is it?" The dispatcher at one of Nagoya's police stations asked through her radio.
"Yeah, this is Speed Trap 7, I've got something. Some idiot is out here flying a plane at low level with no lights on."
"Roger, what's the speed reading?"
"Uh... 310km/h (195mph)."
Sweat drop. "I guess you're unable to take up pursuit... Hold on... Helicopter 4 reports they have just tried to apprehend Takashi Fujima. He managed to outrun the helicopter pursuing him. Last contact was reported just 8km (5 miles) west of your position."
"Thanks dispatch, it's probably him."
In a deserted parking lot off the highway, the Corvette sat there resting after its high speed run. Fujima sat there, secretly wishing he could dispose of Kinoshita and speed to Tokyo right now. He had to wait for his mercenaries to catch up to him. It would be worth it though. The mercenaries could clear him a path and he could shoot through to the docks.
Two Escalade SUVs pulled into the parking lot, and several men dressed in black combat gear and wielding Russian assault rifles and shotguns got out. Fujima got out of the Corvette, after making sure Kinoshita couldn't escape.
"What took you so long?" Fujima asked one of the mercenaries.
"We had to torch the truck. The jeeps haven't got license plates, but the truck has and the police probably got the plate number off that and your car."
"But the truck was stolen, and they probably wouldn't suspect us if they ran the plate number. How are we going to clear the roadblocks now?"
"We planned for that." He motioned for one of the mercenaries to get something out of the trunk of one of the SUVs. Fujima observed as the mercenary picked up an M2 Carl Gustav recoilless rifle. "We brought two of them and 25 shells. We can still lay waste to the police in front of us."
"You'd better." Fujima replied with venom in his voice. "Remember why I pay you Daisuke. You need to get me out of the country, and I need you to clear a path. If I get caught, I'll be going down for a long time. Assaulting a police officer, human trafficking, murder, you name it. If you want to keep your boss happy and your money rolling in, I suggest you do your freaking job."
"Yes sir." The sky was starting to get brighter. "The sun's coming up. I suggest we get a move on." With that, the gang got to their vehicles and moved out of the parking lot. The thunder would soon be rolling towards Nagoya.
A few hours later, in Tokyo, another Chevy was moving through the city. But this one was not part of the hostile gang. It was a red Chevrolet Camaro ZL1, a supercharged American muscle car. The Camaro rumbled through the city center, and right past a little police car. What sort of police car? A Honda Today.
"Did you see that?" Natsumi asked her partner as the Camaro rumbled out of sight.
"Yes." Miyuki answered. "A Chevrolet Camaro. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"There's only one person I know in all of Tokyo who would drive a Camaro. Could it be?"
"I don't know. There hasn't been a Camaro in the fleet since... He... Died." Miyuki's face went a bit solemn.
"Maybe it's worth investigating? I mean... I did manage to get a look at the plate." Natsumi offered.
"Did you?" Miyuki's face lit up a little.
"Well, it might be worth a shot. This guy Fujima managed to outrun a helicopter, and we're going to need some muscle of our own to get this guy." Natsumi reached for the police computer. "Let's see... A Shinagawa plate, 300, main numbers 27-12." She said out loud while she typed. "Running now."
"Come on... To be or not to be...?" Miyuki whispered, having a little hope that the name that would pop up would be someone she used to know.
"Aha!" Natsumi shouted. "The vehicle is a red Chevrolet. But you knew that, right? Anyway, the vehicle is registered to a... Wayne Crenshaw?"
The girl's faces now had looks of disappointment. "I guess it's not to be." Miyuki lamented.
"Come on, we were all hit hard by his death." Natsumi tried to comfort her friend. "He was one of the best officers in the station. He was everyone's friend. I can understand that you've held onto that little bit of hope that we might find him alive, but it's been two years."
"You're right. Anything about this Crenshaw?"
"Apparently, he worked as an engineer at Chevrolet's high performance division from 2004 to 2011."
"He must've worked on such projects as the Corvette Z06, Camaro SS, Monte Carlo SS, Corvette Grand Sport and the Corvette..."
"ZR1!" They both said in unison.
"So the guy can drive." Natsumi declared.
"And he's got a Camaro." Miyuki added.
"That's got him noticed. Think it's worth following this lead?"
"Maybe. If he's got performance driving skills and experience with high performance cars, not to mention he has one such car, I think we might just have a shot of catching Fujima." The mood inside the car was now that little bit brighter.
"Only problem is that his address is out of our jurisdiction." Natsumi said. "We'll have to wait until our duty is over, otherwise we'll be in trouble. And you know how much I hate paperwork."
Miyuki chuckled a little. "It's settled then. But how are we going to tell our colleagues? And Yoriko in particular?"
"The answer?" Natsumi replied. "We don't. Now, come on, we've got a patrol to complete." She mentally wrote down the address as Miyuki maneuvered their mini-pat out of the alley and onto the streets.
At the docks, the red Camaro ZL1 pulled into a parking lot next to a portacabin. The occupant got out, a 6'4 American with black hair and a faint air of military about the way he stood tall and walked purposefully. Getting inside the portacabin, the receptionist greeted him.
"Hey there Wayne." The receptionist smiled.
"Hey there Izuko." Wayne answered. "What's going on?"
"Well, the new guy's coming tomorrow. And that ship? It arrived at about 5 this morning. Twelve vehicles."
"Sure thing."
"Oh, and there was something interesting on the news this morning."
"Tell me."
"The police are trying to stop this guy called Takashi Fujima." That name sounded a tiny bit familiar to Wayne, but he brushed it off and motioned for Izuko to continue. "The police haven't been able to touch him. They say he's driving a Corvette ZR1. You familiar with that car?"
"Yeah." Wayne nodded. "Fastest and most powerful GM car ever. I worked on the ol' Blue Devil back when it was in development in '09. Incredibly fast in a straight line. Good luck to the police trying to catch it, they're gonna have a hell of a time trying to keep sight of it." He exhaled. "Well, I'll get moving. Ship's not gonna offload itself. See ya Izuko."
Outside, Wayne made his way to the big car carrier. His partner, Hank Douglas was waiting outside next to the vehicle ramp. Hank was a blonde American standing 5'10 and with blonde hair, and had served in the US Marine Corps. Wayne and Hank had become friends pretty quickly, as they worked well together and shared a passion for American cars. That was why they worked at the docks at this company importing American cars into Japan.
"Manifest?" Wayne asked.
"Here." Hank handed Wayne the list of vehicles.
"Let's see." Wayne's brown eyes scanned the list. "Pretty odd. These things are all black SUVs and light/medium pickups. Tahoe, Suburban, Tahoe, Yukon, Yukon, Escalade, Suburban, Yukon Denali, Silverado 2500HD, Sierra 1500 Denali, Suburban and Silverado 1500."
"I know, right? Says they're all headed for Nagoya."
"Either a sudden craze for black American utilities has just erupted or this is a bulk delivery."
"What do you think, fleet?"
"If I was a fleet buyer, I probably wouldn't stretch to a Denali or an Escalade. Anyway, let's get these offloaded. You spot for me, I'll steer 'em out."
"You got it." Hank confirmed as he walked up the ramp into the car-carrier. "But I still think Clint Bowyer should've won the NASCAR Sprint Cup series this year instead of Brad Keslowski."
"Shut up." Wayne laughed.
Offloading took the rest of the morning. With Wayne steering the big American vehicles out of the ship, and Hank guiding him through, the twelve utility vehicles were lined up on the tarmac. When Wayne got out of the final vehicle, Hank gave him a high-five.
"Well, they're quite a sight." Hank remarked as he admired the vehicles. "You tested any one of them?"
"Nah." Wayne answered. "I worked at high performance, not the utility division. But I have driven a Silverado a couple of times, mostly when we were transporting vehicles to the test track."
"I thought you looked like a natural steering that 2500 out onto the tarmac."
"Though it could've just been you spotting for me."
After a lunch break, the pair spent the afternoon preparing the vehicles ready for transport, as the trucks would arrive tomorrow to take them to Nagoya. They also helped out another couple of crews offload their ships ("Mustang GT, Camaro SS, you think they'd notice if we took them for a spin?"), and performed minor repairs on vehicles damaged in transport or when offloading.
Soon though, the clock rolled to 5 o'clock, the end of their shift.
"Good day, huh?" Hank asked as the two walked to their cars.
"Yeah, but... I still can't help but feel suspicious about those vehicles we offloaded. Twelve utilities, all black and all going to the same place."
"Yeah, well, just be glad the owners are going to be getting high-quality vehicles. We helped with that."
"Well, see you around." Wayne said as he unlocked his Camaro ZL1.
"See you around too." Hank replied as he got in his Cadillac CTS-V.
On the road back home, Wayne thought about the vehicles he helped to deliver to Japanese soil. Where were they going? Who would be using them? Why were they so similar? What was their true purpose? Wayne shook these thoughts off. He was just the guy who offloaded the vehicles. He accelerated a little, listening to the supercharged V8, before letting the Camaro settle back into a calm cruise.
Up ahead, there was a sports car in the left lane. A vehicle enthusiast, Wayne could identify what the car was. "A Toyota Sports 800. Classic little sports car. Nice shade of blue too. Now why does that seem a little familiar... Ah, it's probably just me getting the thoughts I get when I see a car I like. Besides, I prefer my ZL1. That thing is so tiny."
The Toyota went off onto another street, leaving Wayne and his Camaro to drive home in peace. After steering the muscle car onto his driveway, Wayne collected his thoughts as he locked the ZL1 and stepped inside his home. "Fujima's escape, those black American SUVs and pickups, and that blue Toyota. Why do I get the feeling something big's about to go down here?"
That concludes another chapter. As usual, feedback is appreciated.