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

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A dirt-bike punched through that curtain of flying sand, over the gunship’s lazily spinning wheels, and landed on its rear wheel. Algernon whooped. “Let’s blow this joint, Boonester.”
A dirt-bike punched through that curtain of flying sand, over the gunship’s lazily spinning wheels, and landed on its rear wheel. Algernon whooped. “Let’s blow this joint, Boonester.”


Boone snarled into his wristcom, “We’re not home yet, Algy. Any sign of Georgie”.
Boone snarled into his wristcom, “We’re not home yet, Algy. Any sign of Georgie?”


“She’s tangling with the other cruiser.” Algernon gunned the Kawasaki.
Algernon gunned the Kawasaki. “She’s tangling with the other cruiser. Sticky bogey, I guess.”


Boone scanned the trailer behind his cabin: A wall of green LEDs. ''The [[KPI]]s were already primed''. The detonation timer on the dash ticked down: ''5:30 and counting.''  
Boone scanned the trailer behind his cabin: A wall of green LEDs. ''The [[KPI]]s were already primed''. The detonation timer on the dash ticked down: ''5:30 and counting.''  
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Boone pummeled the dash “Yeah! Georgie! Where you been all my life!”
Boone pummeled the dash “Yeah! Georgie! Where you been all my life!”


“Not me, Boone! On your cabin! Eyes right!”
“Not now, Boone work to do — eyes right!”


Boone looked out but it was too late. With a single fluid motion Kurzweil vaulted up, leant through the window, baffed Boone across the jaw, and grabbed the wheel.  
Boone looked out but it was too late. With a single fluid motion Kurzweil vaulted up, leant through the window, baffed Boone across the jaw, and grabbed the wheel.  
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Boone spat a jeweled string of blood. A copper taste filled his mouth.
Boone spat a jeweled string of blood. A copper taste filled his mouth.


Kurzweil came again, but this time Boone was braced for him. An elbow to the cheek knocked the operations commando back, cracking his head against the stanchion. Boone clamped him, but the Operations man kept swinging. He got Boone by the throat: ''chokehold''. He gripped like a vice. “''NOT … WHILE … I … BREATHE … BOONE.''”
Kurzweil came again, but this time Boone was braced for him. An elbow to the cheek knocked the operations commando back, cracking his head against the stanchion. Boone clamped him, but the Operations man kept swinging. He got Boone by the throat: ''chokehold''. He gripped like a vice. His eyes bulged but he cracked out a demonic grin. “''NOT … WHILE … I … BREATHE … BOONE.''”


The rig veered and fishtailed as they struggled.
The rig veered and fishtailed as they struggled.
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''The timer ticked past 4:00.''
''The timer ticked past 4:00.''


As his air-flow constricted, Boone felt himself going light-headed. He scanned the windshield blearily. ''Where were the dirt-bikes?''. He tried to reach for the wristcom to call them, but Kurzweil’s reach was too long. Kurzweil baffed him again, and somehow hooked a boot on the latch. The door swung wide, with Kurzweil on it. He hauled Boone out by the throat.  
As his air-flow constricted, Boone felt himself going light-headed. He scanned the windshield blearily. ''Where were the dirt-bikes?'' He tried to reach for the wristcom to call them, but Kurzweil’s reach was too long. Kurzweil rabbit-punched him again, and hooked a boot on the door-latch. The door swung wide, with Kurzweil on it. He hauled Boone out by the throat.  


Boone couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. There was no sign of George or Algy ''anywhere''. His muscles slackened. Huis peripheral vision blackened. Kurzweil doubled down on the clamp. Boone swung limply at him, but he found nothing but air: the big man’s reach was too great. The door swung back. Kurzweil booted Boone in the face. Boone lost grip on the wheel, Kurzweil pushed it back round.  
Boone couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. There was no sign of George or Algy ''anywhere''. His muscles slackened. Huis peripheral vision blackened. Kurzweil doubled down on the throat-clamp. Boone flailed limply at him, but caught nothing but air: the big man’s reach was too great. The door swung back. Kurzweil booted Boone in the face. As Boone lost grip on the wheel, Kurzweil pushed it back around to the Settlement.  


The rig ground around back towards the western vector. Kurzweil lined up the Legal Settlement. The cross-hairs locked and flashed and beeped. On the cabin floor, Boone groaned. As at last he passed out his last thought was, ''where the hell are you?'' He slipped into unconsciousness with the hopeless image of Algy hearing his broken plea.  
The rig ground back towards the western vector. Kurzweil lined up the Settlement in the cross-hairs. Locked and flashed and beeped: ''TARGET ACQUIRED''. On the cabin floor, Boone groaned. Kurzeil boot-baffed him. As, at last, he passed out Boone’s last coherent thought was, ''where the hell are you?'' He slipped into unconsciousness with the hopeless image of Algy back at St Crustard’s, in his games kit, frantically trying to get his ''Defence Against Indemnities'' homework before the bell went.  


The counter ticked past 3:30. Kurzweil clocked it and realised there were precious seconds to lose now. If he was to get all the way to the Legal Final Settlement, and make it out intact before the payload blew things would have to be perfect. There was no more room for error. Even now, there was no way he would make it out of that forensic rat hole on foot. Kurzweil knew: this might be his Waterloo. ''I do this for the cause'', he thought. ''For all operations people, everywhere''.
''The counter ticked past 3:45.''  


A horn sounded behind. He caught a glimpse in his wing mirror: the remaining COO Gunship was roaring back into view. Suddenly there was a path out of this. He could escape! He waved at the gunship, urging them forward.
Kurzweil clocked the counter. ''Precious seconds to lose now.'' If he was to get all the way into the Settlement, release the payload and then make it out again before it blew things would have to be perfect. He knew he would not make it out of that forensic rat-hole on foot. This might be his Waterloo. ''I do this for the cause'', he thought. ''For all operations people, everywhere''.
 
An insistent horn sounded behind. He checked his wing mirror: relief! The remaining gunship was roaring back into view. Suddenly, there was a path out of this. He could escape! He waved at the gunship, urging them forward.


He threw the rig in a high gear and jammed a brick on the pedal. The motor screamed.
He threw the rig in a high gear and jammed a brick on the pedal. The motor screamed.


Boone moaned and shifted woozily. Kurzweil baffed him again, Boone collapsed.  
Boone moaned and shifted woozily in the foot well. Kurzweil baffed him again, Boone collapsed into psychedelic visions of Georgie and Algernon in their St. Crustard’s uniforms.
 
Kurzweil cursed the unconscious hulk for even putting him in this position. Then, at 70mph, on a desert track heading straight into the jaws of destruction, Kurzweil knew what he had to do. ''Yes. This is right. This we should do.'' He locked the steering on the acquired target, set the trailer to autopilot, and reached over to grab the unconscious Eagle Squad Leader by his lapels. “Let us make your last ride the one they remember you by, Opco Boone.”
 
''The counter ticked past 3:45.''
 
The damaged gunship was belching black smoke and running on three tyres, but it was back in the game. The rig was hurtling towards the settlement. Boone seemed unable to stop it. Captain Algernon Farquhar, B.S.C, D.S.O, Acting Deputy Captain of Eagle Squad knew the time for action was now.
 
“Cover me, George!” he barked, and ripped hard on his throttle. The Kawasaki surged forward along side the trailer, mounted a narrow dirt ramp in the sand and caught ''big'' air. As the bike sailed over the trailer, he kicked out of his stirrups, let the handlebars go, and back-flipped onto the trailer — regulation Eagle-Squad three-point landing.
 
The Kawasaki prescribed a flat parabola over the trailer, across the track and down, right into the path of the oncoming smoking gunship. The pilot and gunner bailed. The gunship exploded on impact.
 
''The counter ticked past 3:30.''


Then, at 70mph, on a desert track heading straight into the jaws of destruction, Kurzweil had an brilliant idea. ''Yes. This is right. This we should do.''
Boone was a heavy bastard.


“Cover me, George!” barked Captain Algernon Farquhar, B.S.C, D.S.O, Acting Deputy Captain of Eagle Squad, ripped hard on the Kawasaki’s throttle. The bike surged forward, ran fast up a narrow ramp in the sand and jetted across the trailer. He kicked out of the stirrups, let the bike go, and back-flipped onto the trailer. He shinned down the access ladder and slipped into back door of the trailer.  
executed Putting his head through the British Army blanket that hung down between the seats and the hold, an improvised shield at best, he reversed the Webley in his grip. The old Webley that had belonged to his father during the First War.He. He shinned down the access ladder and slipped into back door of the trailer.  


The Kawasaki flew executed Putting his head through the British Army blanket that hung down between the seats and the hold, an improvised shield at best, he reversed the Webley in his grip. The old Webley that had belonged to his father during the First War.


Coldly, he struck Kurzweil across the side of the head.
Coldly, he struck Kurzweil across the side of the head.
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