Disclaimer: I do not own Biker Mice from Mars or any of the characters used in this fanfic. If I did, I would never have allowed them to make the new series, cause it sucks compared to the original! Anyways, here it is.
Chapter 5
The ninth inning wound to a close, the Chi-town Cubs celebrating their victory, and the mice headed back to the garage, their spirits high.
"Awoo! Man, I cannot wait for them chilli dogs and root beer!" Vinnie whooped.
"Steady now Vincent, we gotta patrol first. We drop at Charley's then I wanna check out the docks, theres been some activity there that needs watching."
"Sure thing bro!" Vinnie pulled a wheelie and zoomed off ahead.
"Race ya?" Modo grinned at Throttle.
"Eat my dust bro!" Throttle yelled as they raced off after Vinnie, then suddenly screeched to a stop next to a motionless Vinnie.
"Whats wrong with this picture bros?" Vinnie asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. Throttle charged his nukes.
"It's night, and the garage ain't closed." Modo growled, his eye beginning to glow red. The bikes rumbled threateningly as they covered the last distance to the garage and entered, parking in their usual spots. The workshop was unusually quiet, the Impala and the pickup sitting silent.
"Charley?" Throttle called, a tinge of worry in his voice. There was no answer, and the mice moved into the garage slowly, their senses alert.
"Throttle!" Vinnie called from the other side of the pickup. His bros were at his side in an instant but Vinnie wasn't looking at them, he was looking at the side of the truck, and the large dent in its side that hadn't been there that morning. Modo bent down and examined it, while Throttle looked around.
"There's no blood – could have been an accident." Throttle placed a large heavy looking wrench against the dent – it fitted perfectly.
"No, it was defence." Throttle murmured, anger resonating through his voice.
"So where's Charley?"
"I'll give you one guess Vincent."
Charley struggled helplessly against the leather straps that held her upright against the cold metal. She slumped back against the table and forced herself to breathe slowly and calmly. Peering into the gloom beyond the circle of light she was in, she could just make out the faint outlines of mechanical consoles, coloured lights blinking slowly in the darkened room. Suddenly, the lights flicked on, bright and painful against her eyes.
"Ah you're awake." Karbunkles wheezy voice came from somewhere in front of her. Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with the psychotic scientist. Mustering all the venom she could, she glared at him.
"Karbunkle." She spat at him. "You greasy little ingrate. Let me out of here so that I can pound your skinny little ass." Karbunkle chuckled menacingly.
"You aren't getting out of here. Not in one piece anyway. I'm going to enjoy this." Karbunkle moved to his consoles, pressing buttons rapidly, and Limburgers face appeared in the air. "I am ready to begin, your cheesiness." Karbunkle rubbed his hands, his grin stretching his face into an even more gruesome mask.
"Ah, Miss Davison. So pleased to see that you could join us." Limburger smiled unpleasantly.
"Limburger." Charley smiled politely. "You fish-lipped double dealing blubber butt! What do you want from me?" Charley's face was like thunder.
"Charming, to the last." Limburger smiled as he reached for his bowl of worms and stuffed them down his guzzling mouth.
"I hope they choke you." Charley muttered, her face mutinous.
"You are going to help me bring down those loathsome Biker Mice from Mars." Limburger continued as if he hadn't heard her. Charley laughed out loud.
"Yeah right! Those boys are the best thing that could have happened to this city. I will never help you." She spat. Karbunkle slapped her with more force than she would have given him credit for, and she slowly turned her face back to the screen, a thin trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, and that's going to persuade me real well. You're the smartest guy he has? Pitiful." Karbunkle raised his hand again.
"Karbunkle! That's enough." The deranged scientist lowered his hand again, muttering under his breath. "You will help me my dear, whether you like it or not. You will tell me everything I need to know, and you will do it with no hesitation." Charley snorted.
"Oh sure! I'll tell you all their moves, their special secrets…Hey, I'll even tell you about that secret tattoo that Vinnie got last time he got drunk!" She grinned maniacally at the fat businessman. "Drop dead, lard arse! Help you? Hah! Not likely." Her eyes followed Karbunkle as he began to move around the lab, taking things out and placing them on a table across from her.
"You see Miss Davison, I have known those reprobate rodents far longer than you have, and they are not who you think. You see, the Plutonians are the victims in this particular war. The Martians destroyed our home, took away all our resources, and so we had to expand our borders, to survive, you see? Or our whole culture would have been wiped out, erased completely. Do you see?" Limburger adopted a saddened expression that just made him look like a duck more than anything.
"See? I'll tell you what I see. I see a fat fish in a suit whose mouth is moving but all I hear is static, you ugly, yellow bellied, puke inducing, flea ridden excuse for a life form!" Charley struggled against the straps again, her face twisted in anger. Limburger smiled indulgently and nodded to Karbunkle, who picked up a syringe.
"You will soon be singing a different song my dear. One with not so many words." Charley leaned away from the advancing maniac, but couldn't escape. His hand grabbed fistfuls of her auburn hair, wrenching her head forward painfully. Charley screamed in pain and thrashed against her straps, but it was no use. She felt a searing pain in the back of her neck as he rammed the syringe into her spinal cord and injected her. Liquid fire spread through her body, and Limburger smiled as her screams of agony floated through his tinny speakers. Yes, she would help him, or she would die.
Sweetheart revved loudly as the three mice raced through the streets towards Limburger Tower. Vinnie glanced over at Throttle, riding slightly ahead of Modo and himself. He had never seen his bro like this, even when they were on Mars. Throttle could always keep his cool, even in the heat of battle, but Vinnie had seen a new look on his face today. Throttle was going to kill Limburger, of that he was certain. The engines roared as they raced through the city, and Vinnie almost felt sorry…no, he didn't. Vinnie was going to kick his ass too. NOBODY messed with their Charley-girl.
They rounded a corner and came face to face with the hated tower. Throttle didn't even stop – he fired a blast at the main doors and crashed through the window, glass raining down in his wake. Modo and Vinnie followed suit, Lil' Hoss and Sweetheart screaming their fury as they leapt through the air like enraged panthers. Throttle spun Lady, her back wheel marking the floor angrily, and scanned the empty reception. The tan mouse growled angrily and raced for the elevator shaft, engaging his anti-grav at the same time. Effortlessly, Lady wheelied and raced up the side of the elevator, Lil' Hoss and Sweetheart hot on her heels. Throttle pulled off at the top and screamed round the level, heading for the penthouse doors.
"Vincent!" He ordered.
"I like your thinking!" Vinnie answered, and threw a charge at the doors, blasting them open as the bikes raced through and screeched to a stop.
"Where is she!" Throttle roared, all trace of calm gone from his voice. But the penthouse was empty, and the mice were alone.