Talk:Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions

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 The driver disappeared head-first out of the cabin. As his boots disappeared, Boone pulled himself into the cockpit, honked the foghorn and hauled the wheel hard right. The great rig began to slowly bear around towards the Operations HQ, slewing sand out over the upturned COO gunship as the centripetal forces kicked in.
-A dirt-bike dropped in through the curtain of sand, over the gunship’s lazily spinning wheels, and landed on its rear wheel by the cabin. Algernon whooped.
+A dirt-bike dropped in through the curtain of sand, over the gunship’s lazily spinning wheels, and landed on its rear wheel by the cabin. Algernon whooped. “Let’s blow this joint, Boonester.”
-Boone snarled into his wristcom “We’re not home yet, Algy”.
+Boone snarled into his wristcom, “We’re not home yet, Algy”.
 Algernon gunned the Kawasaki.
-The detonation timer on the dash ticked down. The KPI explosives were primed. ''5:45 and counting.'' Boone wrestled with the wheel. The rig groaned and screamed under the massive Gs as it re-vectored agonisingly to the north. ''Come on, you brute, come on ...''. The rig leveled up. The Gs eased off. Five clicks yonder, Boone could see Operations outpost in the crosshairs,, shimmering in the hot desert air.
+The detonation timer on the dash ticked down. The KPI explosives were primed. ''5:45 and counting.'' Boone wrestled with the wheel. The rig groaned and screamed under the massive Gs as it re-vectored agonisingly to the north. ''Come on, you brute, come on ...''. The rig leveled up. The Gs eased off. Five clicks yonder, Boone could see Operations outpost in the crosshairs, shimmering in the hot desert air.
-Boone stomped on the metal. The monstrous diesel turbines screamed.  The rig picked up pace.
+Boone stomped on the metal. The monstrous diesel turbines screamed. The rig picked up pace.
-The timer clicked past 5 minutes. 4:59. '' So … little … time …''
+The timer clicked past 5 minutes. 4:59.
-A bloodied fist grabbed the running board. Operations Officer Kurzweil hung on for his life: at first, it was all he could do just to keep his hold and stop himself being swept under the semi’s monstrous wheels as they thundered against the dirt inches away from his ear. The brutal dirt roadway grated and pummeled him all over.
+'' So … little … time …''
-But slowly, he hauled himself back into the game. He executed a daring switch-grip,  and established a firm boothold on the chassis. Like a limpet, he clambered up and edged around the cabin.
+A bloodied fist grabbed the running board. Operations Officer Kurzweil hung on for his life: at first, it was all he could do just to keep his hold and stop himself being swept under the semi’s monstrous wheels as they thundered against the dirt inches away from his ear. He clenched his buttocks as the brutal dirt roadway grated and pummeled him all over.
-Kurzweil leant in the window, baffed Boone across the jaw, and grabbed the wheel. “''NOT … ON … MY… WATCH … BOONE''”
+But slowly, he hauled himself back into the game. He executed a daring switch-grip, squirrel-jumped onto the grille, dragged himself up and established a firm boothold on the chassis. Like a limpet, he clambered up and edged around the towards cabin door.
+The timer clicked past 4:30.
+Boone pressed down on the metal.
+Kurzweil traversed along the running board, keeping his head below the window.
+Boone’s comlink crackled. “Heads up Boone: you got company,”
+“Way to go, Georgie!”
+The other dirtbike swung into view off a low ridge, explloding through scrubland. Georgie pulled wheelie.
+“Yo, Boone!” eyes right!
+But it was too late. With a single fluid motion Kurzweil vaulted up, leant in the through the window, baffed Boone across the jaw, and grabbed the wheel.
+“''NOT … ON … MY… WATCH … BOONE''”
 Boone spat a string of blood onto the wheel. The taste of copper filled his mouth.
-Kurzweil came again, but Boone was braced for him. An elbow to the cheek knocked Kurzweil back, cracking his head against the stanchion. Boone clamped him, but the Operations man kept swinging. He clamped Boone by the throat. His grip was like a vice.
+Kurzweil came again, but this time Boone was braced for him. An elbow to the cheek knocked Kurzweil back, cracking his head against the stanchion. Boone clamped him, but the Operations man kept swinging. He clamped Boone by the throat. His grip was like a vice.
 The rig veered and fishtailed.
+the counter ticked through 4 minutes.
 As his air-flow constricted Boone felt himself going light-headed. He tried to reach for the wristcom to call for his wingman, but Kurzweil’s reach was too long. Kurzweil baffed him again for good measure, and somehow hooked a boot on the latch. The door swung open, with Kurzweil on it. He yanked Boone with him.