Pedal to the Metal

by Jesse J. Thoma

  “Who are they?”

  Holt relayed their names and both officers drew their guns. Holt’s body stiffened, a sure sign she was fighting her temper. Max took a step back, keeping her eyes on their targets. She jerked the handcuffs connecting her to Dubs, indicating she should step back out of the way as well. Dubs complied.

  “Boss lady looks a little pissed. Is she going to get into fisticuffs with the cops? I haven’t seen a good cop brawl in years. She looks like she could hold her own.”

  “Shut up,” Max said.

  “Put your guns away,” Holt said. It wasn’t a request.

  The troopers were a little too slow to comply. Holt removed the young trooper’s gun from his hands with speed only hours in front of a boxing speed bag could produce, and stripped it in seconds. She dropped the pieces at his feet. She looked at the commissioner.

  “Yours is next, sir. Do you know how many children are in this park right now? Put your gun away.”

  “Holy shit,” Dubs said, close to Max’s ear. “This might be the greatest show I’ve ever seen. Who are you people?”

  The commissioner’s eyes were no longer casually friendly. Holt may not have made a new friend today, but Max didn’t think she cared. Holt was adamant about not carrying a gun herself, and Max knew she disliked them with good reason.

  “So how are you going to arrest them? Walk over and ask nicely?” the police commissioner asked.

  “You’re going to stay here with her, and I’m going to do what I do. Dubs, are you done getting out of those handcuffs yet? If not, you’re a worse criminal than advertised and I’m starting to have second thoughts about you,” Holt said.

  Max spun around and looked at Dubs, who had moved slightly behind her. Her focus had been so laser-like on the men across the field, she had lost track of what her charge had been up to. Apparently, Dubs had been “up” to removing her handcuffs. She wiggled her fingers in response.

  “Sorry, Hot Stuff. If there’s going to be shooting, I’m not interested in being tied to you. You had that look, like you were going to be in the middle of it.”

  “Cuff her to that bicycle rack, Max. Let’s move.”

  “You can’t just leave me attached to a bicycle rack,” Dubs said. “How do you know I won’t take off? I’m not sitting here waiting around, watching this shit blow up in your face, or mine.”

  Holt got right in Dubs’s face. She was a good six inches taller and a much more commanding presence. Max, totally inappropriately, thought the contrast between power and beauty was stunning.

  “If you are not right here when I get back, your life will be much less pleasant than you can imagine. I don’t have time to explain further. Do I need to?”

  Dubs shook her head and Max wanted to laugh. She had seen that look many times before. She was sure she had produced it herself.

  “Let’s go, Max.”

  Max’s heart was racing. She had never worked on a capture. While she technically worked under Holt as a bond enforcement agent, just like all the other members of Holt’s crew, she usually did computer work only. She’d been asking for the opportunity to learn more fieldwork, and Moose, Holt’s right-hand man, had been helping her learn a thing or two, but this was trial by fire. Holt was moving fast enough that Max had to jog to keep up.

  “They see us coming, H. What’s the plan?”

  “Don’t let them get away. They saw us moving ten minutes ago. You hold back and prevent an escape if they get past me. I’m getting the short one first. Sorry to throw you in the deep end.”

  “I’ll be okay. What do you want me to do with the short guy? After you get him?”

  “Keep him,” Holt said, smiling.

  Max was pretty sure it wasn’t really as simple as that.

  As they got closer to the two men, Holt started moving at “Holt speed.” It didn’t seem human, but Max had raced against her before. She knew Holt could run this fast for miles. She almost felt sorry for the short guy when Holt zeroed in on him. His eyes widened and he tried to run, but he didn’t have warp speed, so he turned to fight. That was even stupider.

  Holt easily caught the first punch and swatted it away. She didn’t look like she wanted to engage in a true fistfight, and Max guessed that she was trying to break his spirit by showing him just how fruitless his efforts really were. Max tried to keep an eye on Holt while also keeping an eye on the second guy. When Holt engaged with Stumpy, the second one circled back around, apparently unconcerned with Max’s presence. Max didn’t think Holt would appreciate if she let the other guy sucker-punch her.

  As he closed in, Max stepped up and kicked him in the shin. He howled and hopped on the un-accosted leg. Max tried to channel Holt and punched him in the gut. He had looked a little soft, but it still hurt like hell and she wanted to shake her hand out, but now he was mad and didn’t seem as interested in Holt. He swung at her, and she barely avoided taking a square shot to the jaw. She spun away, turned around, and was horrified to see a knife in his right hand. Panic set in. A shin kick probably wasn’t going to work now.

  “Care to switch?” Holt asked. “That guy needs some handcuffs, and I didn’t bring any.” She motioned to the guy kneeling, clearly dazed, on the ground.

  The knife-wielding attacker must have gotten bored waiting. He lunged at Max, who was still standing closer to his knife than Holt was. Max was paralyzed at the sight of the metal heading for her abdomen. Luckily, Holt was not. She lifted Max by the back of her shirt as if she were a small child and swung her behind Holt’s body, out of harm’s way. Holt must have also used the momentum of Max’s swinging body for offensive purposes as well, because when Max turned back to the action, Holt was crouched low, with one leg extended where the man’s knees had been when he was standing. He, however, was now flat on his back, the knife a few harmless feet away.

  Max turned to the other man, the one she was now in charge of subduing. She was surprised he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation and run, but Holt had a magnetic draw on many people, so perhaps he couldn’t get out of her orbit. He moved to stand and she got into a defensive position.

  “I’m a wicked shin-kicker, and not above a crotch shot. You missed your chance to run. And if you do now, she’s got nothing to do, so I’ll send her after you. What’s your decision?” Max asked.

  The man put his hands above his head and slowly lowered himself back to his knees.

  “I think it was the threat of the shin kick,” Holt said softly as she retrieved a pair of cuffs from Max’s back pocket to restrain the knife wielder, while Max used another pair on Stumpy.

  When they returned to the two state troopers, Holt turned their two captures over to them. They were high value, wanted in multiple states, and the troopers were happy to have them.

  “Can I get out of these now?” Dubs asked, shaking the wrist attached to the bike rack and looking a little put out as she sat cross-legged in the dirt.

  “Of course,” Holt said. “But now that I know you can get out of them on your own, I’ll be more careful with you. I was also curious how much you were willing to trust me. Now I know not at all. Something you should know about me, Dubs. I never put my people in harm’s way unnecessarily. I take care of my own. Neither one of us has to like it, but you are my people for the moment. You were in no danger.”

  Holt unlocked the cuffs from the bike rack, hoisted Dubs by the armpits, and walked her to Max’s side. She pulled another set of cuffs from her pocket.

  “Just how many of those things do you people carry around?” Dubs asked.

  Max complied when Holt snapped the cold metal around her left wrist and coupled the other end to Dubs’s right wrist, even though she didn’t like it. At least the look of terror on the young trooper’s face when Holt approached and demanded his chewing gum, was worth something. She split the gum in two and shoved half in each key hole.

  Dubs looked like she was ready to explode, but she wisely didn’t say anything. Max felt her shoulders slump. What was she
going to do, tied to this woman? How was she going to work? How was she going to assist the mission in any way? She was a glorified babysitter.

  “That should slow you down, what twenty, thirty seconds?” Holt asked Dubs.

  “I make a living getting in and out of places people don’t want me near,” Dubs said. “Your gum is hardly an insurmountable obstruction. If I wanted to get away of course, which I’m not saying I do. I’m here for the greater good, remember?”

  “Of course,” Holt said. “But if you change your mind, that’s why you’re tethered to Max. She’s very good at delivering a painful kick to the shins. Hard to drive a car that way. Keep that in mind.”

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, Pulchritudinous Girl,” Dubs said. They sat in the office, wasting time until Holt gave them instructions.

  “What did you call me?” Max asked, looking offended.

  “It means physically beautiful. I played a lot of Scrabble when I was locked up. I always won because I was smart and studied the dictionary in my downtime. But like I was saying, I was worried your boss just stuck me with a pretty face to keep me happy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, your face, it would totally make up for it if you didn’t have anything else going for you, but now I know you’ve got some serious skills. Maybe not like your boss—what is she by the way? Some kind of human, ninja, assassin, alien, superhuman, Amazon, superhero, robot, cyborg, terminator hybrid? Anyway, like I was saying, now that I know you’ve got some wicked skills, I think we should be friends. Maybe an extra special kind of friend, if you know what I mean. Eh, what do you think?”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” Max said. “And don’t call me a polka-rude-girl. You sound like an idiot.” Dubs thought she detected the slightest hint of a smile.

  “Who said anything about sleeping together? Although we are back in these.” Dubs held up their handcuffed wrists and waggled them back and forth. “So I think that’s going to happen no matter what. Something to look forward to. But I was talking about getting your beautiful self into the passenger seat of a hot little car and going for a spin around town. I promise it feels so damn good if someone else is making the car payments.” Dubs had been “clean” for a long time. The idea of stealing cars again, with permission, was almost as enticing as sex, booze, or any other vice she could think of.

  “Not to burst the bubble on this perfect fantasy I can see playing out in your mind,” Max said, pulling Dubs out of her daydream, “but I think the point of the handcuffs is that I’m always by your side, passenger seat or not. And I get the feeling you’re a little intimidated by Holt, which is a healthy state of mind.”

  Dubs didn’t like being so easily read. “Please. You saw how easily I can get out of these bracelets. And I only steal fast cars.”

  “You’ve never seen Holt run,” Max said, her face straight.

  Dubs had seen Holt in action at the park. She stuck by her earlier assessment of Holt’s superhuman makeup. She didn’t know whether to take Max seriously.

  “What’s Holt’s deal anyway? She got a lady? I would like to see the woman who could take someone like Holt.” As Dubs was saying that, she felt the air in the room change. It was as if everyone, Max included, simultaneously experienced the competing emotions of excitement and reverence, and all eyes were focused on the door. Dubs felt like a celebrity was entering the room. “Oh shit, never mind. That must be the boss’s lady. You’re all looking at her like she’s the queen. And it’s a title she wears well. She looks like a benevolent ruler, though. Not my type.”

  “Good Lord, you’re insufferable,” Max said. “But I wouldn’t say a word about Isabelle in front of Holt. They’re insanely into each other, and Holt is protective of what is hers. That’s true of Isabelle, and all of us. Probably not you. You’re just a dull instrument of destruction, bait in her trap, but the rest of us, she protects.”

  “Hey, she said I was one of her people.” Dubs was offended until she caught Max’s eye and realized she was teasing her. “Oh, so now we’re going to play each other a little? Now you’re going to like me, Pretty Girl? We’ll see about this. So, what is the queen doing here? She doesn’t look like the rest of the crew.”

  “Please, for your benefit, and mine, call her Isabelle. And she’s here to meet Lola, I think.”

  “Lola’s the starter-house sized one, right? Tuna’s the four-bedroom house in the nice neighborhood, and Moose is the McMansion in the gated community?”

  “I dare you to say that to one of their faces.”

  “I steal cars. I don’t make a living being stupid.”

  “And yet, you ended up in the can,” Max said, definitely teasing this time.

  Dubs was sensitive about that fact, even though Max was only teasing. Truth be told, it was stupidity that got her arrested. Or arrogance. Maybe they were the same thing. And being locked up had cost her a lot. She was out to right some wrongs.

  “So, do we just sit around here all day? What did you bust me out for?” Dubs asked.

  “We’ve got a strategy meeting in four hours,” Max said. “With the whole team. I’ve collected as much information as I can about thefts in the past three months, and the strange influx of money throughout the city. That’s where you come in. We want your thoughts on the way it’s being run. Is there anything else that would be helpful to you?”

  “Do you have make and model of the cars?”

  “And the neighborhoods where they were taken, and the time of day. As much as I could gather. If it was on the police report, I have the info. And some of them made news reports and other media, so I pulled data from those sources too. Although their accuracy is iffy.”

  Dubs felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. Stealing cars wasn’t this technical. “I’ve got to see a few people. It will look weird if I’m out and don’t stop by. I would prefer to do it alone, but I know our fearless leader would put the kibosh on that. I also need clothes.”

  “Sure. Let me check in with Moose.” Max rose quickly and headed for the largest man in the room. She set off at a quick pace, but stopped short, jerking both of their arms painfully when she quickly reached the end of the handcuff’s length. “Care to join me?” Max asked.

  *

  Dubs was nervous as she approached the front steps of the home she knew so well. She had climbed these stairs more than the steps to her own home, but they felt so different now. Sadness hung from the worn rafters, shoddy shingles, and pieces of peeling paint now. The guilt and anguish she felt threatened to consume her.

  “How do you think this is going to go?” Max asked. “Your father didn’t make it sound like she was going to be happy to see you.”

  Max was right. They had just come from seeing Dubs’s father, and he hadn’t provided any assurances about the type of welcome they would receive from Mrs. Otis, but Dubs needed to be here. She just wished she wasn’t handcuffed to Max. It was hard enough talking to her father, and she’d felt like she was speaking in code the whole conversation.

  “We’re about to find out, Pretty Girl.”

  Dubs knocked. The door opened and Mrs. Otis stood blocking the entrance. Dubs wanted to hug her, seek the comfort this woman had always provided, but she didn’t. She waited.

  “No one else thought you would come, Whitney. But I knew you would. How long have you been out?” No one else could get away with calling her Whitney.

  “About six hours, ma’am,” Dubs said.

  “Have you seen your father?” Mrs. Otis asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do I want to know why you have a young woman handcuffed to your arm?”

  “It was a condition of my release. She’s sort of like my parole officer.” Dubs winked at Max, who glared at her.

  “I’m Max Winters, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

  “Come on in, you two,” Mrs. Otis said.

  Dubs settled on the familiar couch and was bombarded by memories of Levi. She had stayed as far away from his room as she could, but the house wa
s small. She felt the pull of the space from across the living room. Max seemed uncomfortable next to her, and Dubs suspected it was because of how uncomfortable she was.

  “His dying wasn’t your fault, Whitney,” Mrs. Otis said.

  “Yes, ma’am, it was.”

  “Oh, sweetie, he was young and full of beans. He was going to do what he did. You know that.”

  “But if I wasn’t locked up, he wouldn’t have died. I could’ve stopped it.” Dubs felt a strong urge to punch Max in the head, knock her unconscious, do anything to keep her from hearing this conversation.

  “That still doesn’t make it your fault. He would have found a different way to try to prove himself to you. Maybe killed himself that way, instead.”

  Dubs wasn’t ready to let herself off the hook for her best friend’s death. She appreciated his mother’s forgiveness, though.

  “Are you back in the game?”

  “You can’t ask me that kind of question in front of my parole officer,” Dubs said.

  “Max, if you’re a parole officer, then I’m Spiderman, no offense of course,” Mrs. Otis said. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Whitney.”

  “That’s not true. I’m a terrific liar. I just don’t lie to you.”

  “Because you and Levi knew what was good for you. So I ask you again. Are you back in the game?”

  “Do you want me to be?” Dubs asked. The answer was surprisingly important.

  Mrs. Otis stood right in front of Dubs. She grabbed her by the jaw, the meaty hand resting on her chin. “If you get back in, you had better promise me to be more careful than you were last time. When you’re focused, there is no one better. But I hear it’s a different world out there now, so no more stupidity like what got you caught. You understand me?”

  Dubs nodded, although most of the nodding was courtesy of Mrs. Otis’s helping hand.

  “If you’re back in, Shorty’s car is two houses down.”