Deadly Paths

by Jack Parker

  She patted his cheek. "I agree with you, Jakey. Don't worry. Let's hurry."

  They both ran out the door to the side parking lot the card had indicated, right alongside West Hacienda Avenue. Across the street from them the shimmering gold-tinted windows of the THE hotel towered above them. The attendant by the motorcycles could not have been more obvious. She sat in a small car decorated with Spy Games decals playing a handheld video game as Jake and Victoria came running up. Victoria wanted to kick herself. The only usefulness to the card at all would have been to explain how to get to the helicopter pick up area outside the nearby Tropicana and she had immediately ruled that out. There was no way she was going flying in a machine she had not personally inspected after what had just happened to her, which meant a motorcycle ride through the streets parallel to the strip along a course marked off by the show was inevitable. But these motorcycles had a catch to them.

  "I'm driving," both Jake and Victoria said at the same time as they reached the closest of the bikes. Victoria shot Jake a look.

  "This is no time to act manly, honey. Trust me, I'll get us there faster."

  She smiled at him sweetly as the attendant finally got out of the car and came up to them with a set of keys. Jake however, was immune to her charms this time.

  "No way, uh-uh, Nova. I'm not squeezing into that side car. Trust me, choppers are kind of my life."

  "Shut up," Victoria said giggling at him. "You're too pretty to be a biker."

  Jake snatched the keys out of the young girl's hand, giving her a wink as he grabbed a helmet. Victoria started to protest, but instead relented with a small grin and shake of her head.

  "Boy's and their toys," she chided.

  He ignored her as he donned a helmet, turned the key and revved the ignition. The bike roared to life.

  "Well Super-Nova, you coming or not?"

  Victoria reluctantly climbed into the small sidecar.

  "Don't make me regret this, Jakey."

  He answered her by tearing down the street at full throttle. barely giving her time to get her own helmet into place. They zoomed through the streets in a pathway marked first by cones, and then by small blue lights. The challenge was apparently constructed as an obstacle course. It would have been child's play for a professional stunt driver, but for a game show contestant it might have seemed moderately dangerous and exciting to weave through parked cars, zoom up a ramp leading through a concrete tunnel on a detached flat-bed trailer of the type pulled by semi-trucks, and come out the other side into a parking garage ramp way. Victoria rolled her eyes as she hung on inside the tiny side car. There were far more efficient ways to get where they were going.

  "Having fun down there, princess?" Jake called down to her as tires screeched as he made left turn after left turn inside the garage. She had to admit he really was doing a good job of handling the bike. She reached up and tickled the back of his leg and he jerked, making the bike swerve.

  "Just fine, Jakey. Don't crash now. You sure you don't want me to take over?"

  She didn't hear his answer over the drone of the bike's engine as he revved up the speed. No, it wasn't the engine of their bike. There were more. It was then that she realized they weren't alone in the garage. She turned and glanced behind her, seeing three men on smaller motorcycles tearing down the garage ramp after them.

  "Jake," she called seriously. "We have company. Gun it!"

  Jake glanced over his shoulder as he approached the exit to the garage. Swearing, he complied. Victoria knew Jake assumed that if the other bikers caught up to them they would lose points toward the end of mission reward and would go as fast as he could, but there was always that extra burst of speed when you knew your life was actually in danger, and Victoria desperately wished she had fought harder to be the driver. She considered drawing her pistol, but there was no way to tell yet if their pursuit was part of the show or not. All she could do for now was hope Jake was fast enough.

  * * *

  "What the fuck is going on?" Grace screeched as she violently shoved the door to her second floor office open. "Security! How did those three jackasses get onto mychallenge course?"

  A woman in a white security guard uniform ran to greet her at the bottom of the stairs.

  "W-we don't know ma'am. The perimeter of the course was secure."

  "Obviously not!" Grace snapped. "Dare I ask what else could fucking go wrong today?"

  The woman from security looked down and away. The rest of the work crew was staring, holding their breath, unsure of what to do about the situation, or if Grace would come after them next. Exasperated, Grace took out all of her rage on the security breach on the one poor messenger.

  "Well don't just stand there like a dumbass! What's being done about it? Aren't the perimeter teams notified?"

  "T-they are, ma'am. And they are scrambling to intercept. But we only have two motorcycle cops and if we used a car we could jeopardize—"

  "I want whoever those idiots are caught, and I want them in jail being ass raped by any butch thug that takes a fancy to them. And then I want to film it!"

  "May I make a suggestion, Grace?" said a soft voice at her side.

  Grace turned and started back up the stairs throwing her hands up in the air in a wild shrug. She didn't bother to see where the security woman scampered off to.

  "Sure Steve," she laughed. "Let's hear it. I'm all ears. But if you're going to say I should just resign because I am about to be fired anyway, then I am way ahead of you."

  "Nothing so drastic. But why don't you just go with this? Let it play out. If Jake and Nova get to the end of the course, all the better for you. You can just say it was all you're idea and it will look brilliant."

  Grace laughed and shook her head.

  "I see where you're going with this. But Steve, I can't even begin to unravel the legal nightmare of the insurance companies not being informed of the added danger of being chased through the challenge."

  "You just say it was a last second idea, and then you get three guys who can ride bikes from the staff to sign legal releases and suit up. That way you can do a chase for anybody else who picks the same challenge. Didn't you notice the three riders are wearing Spy Games jackets? They've made it easy for you, whoever they are."

  Grace closed the door gently behind her and sighed, leaning against it while Steve smiled softly at her. It was the only place she could stand where her crew in the room below could not see her, as the door was solid wood. She suddenly felt very tired, but Steve was talking sense.

  "I still want to kick whoever they are in the nuts personally," she said at last. "But I like your idea. I just hope you're right. Also, something very fishy is going on with the show this season, and I am going to figure out what."

  She walked over and sat down at her desk, watching as the preset cameras caught all the action on the motorcycle course headed to Caesar's Palace. The three riders were gaining on Jake and Nova, bracketing them in a triangle as they wove through another series of parked cars. She felt bad about this new plan. It was her responsibility to make sure her contestants were protected. The unwelcome riders were indeed wearing Spy Games jackets, but Jake and Nova could be in real trouble from lunatics who wanted God knows what.

  "Come on, you two," Grace pleaded. "Don't let me down".

  Chapter Five

  "Hey watch it!" Jake yelled at the rider to his right.

  The guy was acting so determined to cut Jake off it was as if he didn't care if he caused a horrible wreck, or force Jake directly into some of the course obstacles. Jake hit the brakes and swerved wide around a pit of wet cement, and ducked splinters as he crashed through a wooden orange and white barrier. The visor of the rider's black helmet was flipped up, revealing cold eyes burning with malice. This serious intent communicated exactly the opposite of the expected friendly gaze of a stunt driver chasing them for fun.

  "Could you give me some bloody warning before you nearly decapitate me next time?" Nova screamed up at him.
He ignored her, as there were more pressing matters on his mind than being lectured on how to be a gentleman biker.

  "Can't talk now, honey! In case you hadn't noticed, somebody way too serious about their job is trying to—Hey!"

  The rider reached for Jake's handlebars, turning him to the right—directly toward a parked utility vehicle. Jake's eyes went wide as he fought for control.

  "I said, watch it Jackass!" Jake snarled as he elbowed the man away. The rider went to the right of the vehicle, up onto the sidewalk, while Jake managed to veer left back into the street. "Are you trying to kill us?"

  "You are going to kill us if you don't watch where you're going!" Nova complained.

  "Quiet down there, you," Jake said. "I swear I'll turn this thing right around and we won't go to the party!"

  "I'm surprised you even know where you're going!"

  "Want me to stop and ask for directions to be sure?"

  Nova went silent, but something in her eyes made him think she just might be smiling.

  Jake realized it was still a long way yet to their destination, and these jerks were not going to make it easy on them. They were boxed in here, with a giant parking garage to his left and the towers of New York New York to his right. At least there were no more people gawking at them down this way. Jake had waved to the many bystanders watching his race as he flew over Tropicana Avenue—an act which earned him a dead leg punch in the thigh from Nova. She really could be so mean.

  The biker behind them gained enough ground to actually touch wheels, causing Jake to swerve to the left and fight for control as he narrowly missed a freshly planted palm tree crossing over a median. A biker on a Honda crotch-rocket on the left had to fall back to avoid a series of parked cars, and Jake used the space to make the hairpin turn to the left and up a ramp leading into a large parking lot—catching about five feet of air.

  "Gah, fuck!" Nova complained from the side car as they crashed back to the pavement with a jolt. "That's going to leave a mark."

  "Sorry!"

  Jake risked a glance back. The narrow ramp had forced all three pursuers to follow single file. Still, he was at a serious speed disadvantage carrying the sidecar and it wouldn't be long before they were on him with this much space to maneuver.

  "Who thought up this crap?" Jake complained. "We'll never outrun them."

  "Head between those tour buses!" Nova instructed.

  Jake gunned the old chopper for all it was worth, causing the engine to rumble loudly and echo off the tall buildings as he made for the parked tour buses. Two of the pursuers fell in line single file as Jake hoped, but he lost sight of the other.

  "Slow to about thirty! And cut hard right on the other side."

  "What?" The simple question came out like a curse word. "Are you insane?"

  Had he heard her right? They were already in between the buses. Despite himself, he eased back on the throttle while he tried to process what she wanted to do.

  "Do it now!" Nova barked.

  Jake cut hard to the right, swerving in front of the bus. A biker cut across their path from right to left, and Jake realized with horror that Nova was no longer strapped in, but perfectly balanced and standing on the side car. With her left hand she reached out and caught hold of the rider by the scruff of his jacket. At the same time her other hand caught hold of a handlebar on the bike. The man yelped in surprise as he was yanked clean off the bike while Nova leapt from the sidecar and neatly straddled the vacant seat of the crotch-rocket. Jake was stunned.

  "You are insane, you crazy bitch!"

  Nova pressed her fingertips to the place where her helmet covered her mouth and blew him a kiss as she pinned her throttle and left him eating her dust. Jake looked to his right and with horror realized the other two bikers had caught up to him as they neared Frank Sinatra Drive at a break-neck pace.

  He braced himself for a struggle, certain both men were going to try and grab him again. The one with the angry eyes gave him another threating glance, but both riders ignored him, zooming ahead after Nova. Jake felt insulted.

  "Hey! Get back here!"

  The men did not listen. Jake could only watch them go in bewilderment. If he were given the choice, Jake had to admit he would go after Nova too. She was much hotter. But why had she felt the need to jump ship anyway? True the bike they were on was old, slow, and weighed down compared to the sports models their attackers were on, but Jake had never seen such a crazy stunt. Hopefully, the guy she left eating pavement was alright. What did it gain her except to beat them all to the finish line? If the men caught her, would they come back for him? Maybe they were worried about her speed. Maybe there was some failure of communication. Whatever was going on, it was clear Nova wasn't your ordinary reality show contestant. Jake resolved to have a bunch of questions answered by Nova when this little chase was over, but first . . .

  "You guys are going to regret ignoring me!" He called. Then to himself he added, "just as soon as I figure out how I'm going to catch you."

  At full speed, Jake managed to stay within twenty yards of the two stuntmen. The chopper thrummed, straining with everything it had. Jake wished he could just cut the sidecar loose somehow, but it was bolted on pretty solid. Jake followed Nova and her pursuit up Sinatra Drive. He saw that all the normal traffic had been diverted to the southbound side of the drive while the challenge was active. Traffic was bumper to bumper on that side of the road, and more than once, a group of girls flashed him, cheering as he sped by. Jake waved politely while trying to think of a way to catch up.

  Ahead of him loomed a gigantic electronic road sign cycling through various advertisements; from up-coming shows to announcements of the brand new Grand Chapel Casino. And there Jake saw his opportunity. Cutting to the left across oncoming traffic and then through a gap in the tree line created for the sign, Jake whooped as he jumped his bike off the challenge course onto the Las Vegas Freeway.

  * * *

  "I'm so fired," Grace huffed. She let her head settle into her hands, her fingers splayed to prop her eyes open—an act of her subconscious to keep her watching the legal nightmare unfolding before her eyes. "Yep, sooo fired."

  Steve, to his credit was silent. She looked up at him wearily.

  "I don't suppose we have any assets that can make that dumbass get back on the course in the next five minutes do we?"

  Steve shrugged. "Why would you want to? It's great action."

  "Yeah, until he gets himself or somebody else killed. Don't you dare tell me I can use this to my advantage too."

  "Ok I won't. But think about it Grace, you give him a special trial for breaking the rules, play up the drama, or even reward him if he succeeds somehow at this mission."

  "I ought to just kick his sorry ass off the show right away."

  "Yeah, but it's not his fault that three hooligans broke into the game and are trying to take out his partner. Don't you see what he's doing? He's not joy-riding."

  Grace made a few motions on her touch-screen monitor, pulling up a satellite view of the course. Little blinking blue dots marked the positions of Nova and Jake, as they each had a GPS tracker hardwired into their helmets. The hooligans brought their own helmets, so the only way to tell where they were was when they appeared on the various cameras stretched along the course. The one who had been knocked off his bike by Nova had gotten up and somehow slipped away by ducking into New York New York. Grace swore her cameras were not going to be so generous to the other two.

  Nova was speeding north up Sinatra, and had almost reached the barrier at the giant electronic Bellagio sign which created a small tunnel over that street. Where Nova had to contend with barriers, strategically parked cars, and cardboard cutouts of random pedestrians, Jake was rapidly gaining ground on the nearly traffic-less highway. Grace concentrated on him, trying hard to figure out what the hell Steve was hinting at. She would have asked him to spell it out for her, but there was no way she was letting the cute little jerk know he was thinking that far ahead
of her. As Jake sped for a particular she finally understood.

  "Oh God! He's trying to get to Flamingo Road first, isn't he?"

  Steve nodded. "Probably hopes to hut them off as they round the Bellagio."

  Grace gave a little gasp. "Crazy bastard. He'll have to—"

  She was out of her seat in a flash. Already her staff had been bracing herself for her rage, and about half of them flinched when the door to her office swung open. There were some faces of relief, and some of shock when she gave the almost normal order.

  "Get me cameras on the Flamingo Road overpass over Sinatra now!"

  * * *

  Where the hell is he going? Victoria wondered as she glanced back to witness Jake plowing his chopper up onto the highway. The moment of inattention almost cost her serious injury, if not her life.

  The course funneled in an S-turn series created out of eighteen-wheeler trailers on the left and simple cones on the right. The Belagio archway sign loomed ahead, marking the end of the series. The hard barrier was no doubt intended to keep rubber-neckers from slowing traffic on the southbound side of the road, with the cones providing a soft option to bust the course. Turns like this throughout the course seemed designed to slow contestants down enough to consider an upcoming surprise obstacle, but the designers had not counted on a bike going as fast as hers with a biker literally racing for her life.

  She would have run smack into a trailer at the first curve to the right, but she reacted in time to simultaneously jam on both breaks and lean hard to her right. The tires screeched for a second as she released the foot brake and threw her right leg over the left side of the bike, leaning back until the bike was completely on its side. Sparks flew beneath her as she skid under the trailer. Releasing the hand brake with a slight jerk of the handlebars caused the bike to spring back to a comfortable riding position. The bike wobbled slightly as she re-straddled the powerful machine and fought for balance, and then she was off again—putting distance between her and her pursuers. For the moment, her antagonists were stuck on the other side of the trailers, giving her time to think, and to come up with a plan. She exhaled in exasperation instead of catching her breath as she hugged the trailers to stay on the northbound side of the median.