by Haris Orkin
“It’s a defense and fighting system developed by the Israeli Defense forces,” Flynn explained. “It combines techniques from boxing, wrestling, judo, and karate and is designed to work down and dirty in real world situations. It’s extremely efficient and even more effective. I practice a variation myself. It emphasizes aggression. Taking an enemy out as quickly as possible by targeting the body’s most vulnerable points. You attack preemptively and keep fighting until your opponent is completely incapacitated.”
“A woman needs to know how to defend herself,” Severina said.
“Indeed, she does. It’s a dangerous world.”
Nickelson heard a distant buzzing sound – a bit like a bee. Or a couple of bees. The bees grew louder and Nickelson realized they weren’t bees at all. They were motorcycles. He looked past Severina out the back window of the Electro Go Limo and spotted two motorcycles approaching so fast it almost seemed as if the limo wasn’t moving at all.
Flynn glanced out the back window as well. “Down! Everyone down!”
Nickelson stared dumbfounded as the twin motorcycles pulled up on either side of the Electro Go. Each bike carried two riders in black leather. One held the handlebars and the other held something else. At first Nickelson wasn’t sure what it was. He pressed his nose up against the glass to get a better look. Sancho grabbed him by the neck and pushed him down a second before the submachine gun roared. Bullets ricocheted off the ballistic glass and peppered the side of the car.
“Oh, my God!” Nickelson screamed. “They’re shooting at us!”
Since the car was autonomous, it didn’t accelerate or react in any way to the violent attack. It stayed in the center of the lane and proceeded apace at a safe and sensible speed. Each flattened bullet created a concentric ring of white cracks that obscured the view through the glass.
Flynn shouted over the roar of the machine guns. “Down! Get down! It’s only a matter of time before that ballistic glass shatters!” On cue, one of the windows began to buckle under the onslaught of hot lead.
Flynn lifted his knee and kicked the glass divider that separated them from the front seat. He kicked as hard as he could, again and again as the machine guns continued to roar.
Nickelson watched the motorcycle on the left accelerate ahead of the Electro Go as the limo held steady at a sober sixty-five miles an hour. The passenger aimed his weapon at the windshield and fired, presumably in an attempt to take out the limo driver. But there was no driver, just a stupid AI blithely driving them to their doom.
Severina joined Flynn in kicking the divider until finally it broke free and fell into the front. James followed after it, climbing into the driver’s seat, taking the wheel and putting the pedal to the metal. The car accelerated, lurching forward and then violently slowed down as the autonomous AI took back control and hit the brakes.
A pleasant female voice came over the speaker box in the back. “I’m sorry, but the speed limit on the Nimitz Freeway is sixty-five miles an hour.” Flynn gritted his teeth and hit the pedal again. The car bolted forward before the AI slammed on the brakes again. “I’m sorry, but the speed limit on the Nimitz Freeway is sixty-five miles an hour.”
“Shit!” shouted Sancho.
“Bloody stupid AI!” Flynn growled. A bullet penetrated the passenger side window, flew past Flynn’s face and into the ballistic glass on the driver’s side. Shards of Plexiglas stung his cheek as the slug ricocheted into the dashboard. “Bloody hell!”
Severina pushed a terrified Nickelson to the floor before more bullets could penetrate the glass.
Flynn wrenched the steering wheel in an attempt to ram the bike on the right, but the Electro Go wouldn’t let him and yanked the car back into the center of the lane, calmly explaining why. “It is unsafe to change lanes at this time as there appears to be a vehicle in the adjacent lane.”
“I know there’s a bloody vehicle! I’m trying to hit the damn thing!”
He tried to wrest control of the wheel away from the AI and bang into the motorcycle, but the Electro Go forced them back into the proper lane once again. “It is unsafe to change lanes at this time as there appears to be a vehicle in the adjacent lane.”
Another bullet penetrated the glass and flew just above Severina’s head before burying itself into a seat.
“What do we do?” she screamed.
“We’re all going to die!” Nickelson cried.
Sancho shouted in Nickelson’s face. “What did I say! What did I tell you? I told you. Didn’t I tell you!”
“Everyone! Just calm down,” Flynn commanded.
Nickelson never before felt this kind of fear. He started to cry as epinephrine coursed through his system, telling his body to fight or flee, but he was too scared to fight and had nowhere to flee. He was trapped in a limo too smart for its own good and all that hormone did was make him sick to his stomach.
The passenger on the motorcycle just ahead of them peppered the windshield with machine gun fire, filling the Plexiglas with multiple concentric rings that clouded the view through the glass. Flynn fruitlessly flattened the gas again in an attempt to hit their assailant, but the Electro Go wasn’t having it and reduced its speed back to a lawful and sane sixty-five miles an hour. “Please keep a safe distance from the vehicle ahead,” said the pleasant female voice.
Flynn looked back over the seat at Sancho, Severina, and Nickelson piled on top of each other on the floor. He had no way to protect them and didn’t know what to tell them. The part of his personality that was Jimmy nearly emerged in a panic, but James forced Jimmy back down before he could get them all killed.
The limo slowed down suddenly and changed lanes behind the motorcycle on the right before merging onto the Junipero Serra Freeway, heading west.
The motorcycles cut past traffic to follow.
Flynn watched them through the rear window as both passengers reloaded their machine guns. “Severina!”
She didn’t answer him.
Flynn shouted to her again. “Severina!”
“What?”
“How do I override this system!”
“I don’t know.”
“Who would?”
“Sergei.”
“Call him. Now!
The motorcycles accelerated. The muzzle flashes of the twin machine guns glinted seconds before bullets peppered the back window of the limo.
“Oh, my God!” Nickelson shouted, holding his hands over his ears.
“Sancho!” Flynn called.
“What?”
“On top the rear seats! Are those releases?”
“Where?”
“On either side! See if they allow you to lower the seats!”
“Why?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions?”
“Because I don’t want to die!” Sancho shouted.
“Then lower the bloody seats and get my carry-on out of the trunk! Let’s go! Chop chop!”
Severina married her smartphone to the computer tablet installed in the rear seat and called Belenki by initiating a Blinky Face to Face call. Almost instantly Belenki’s irritated face appeared. “Can’t talk now. I’m in the middle of a meeting.” He hung up and his face disappeared from the monitor.
“Shit!’ Severina screamed and immediately initiated another Blinky Face to Face.
Belenki’s face popped up again. He looked put out. “What did I just say? I told you I was—”
“Shut up and listen to me!”
Belenki’s expression of irritation turned to one of surprise. No one ever talked to him that way. “Did you just tell me to shut up?”
“We are under attack in your stupid-ass autonomous Electro Go and we need to take back control.”
“Under attack?”
“How do we do that?” Sancho shouted.
“Do what?”
“People are shooting us,” Severina snarled. “How do we take control of this car!”
“Who?”
“Who what?”
“Who is shooting?”
“What does it matter?”
“This is Flynn! How do we override the AI!”
“It’s in the code. It’s a voice command. All you have to say is Daisy, initiate—”
A single bullet pierced the rear window’s ballistic glass and hit Belenki square in the face, shattering the tablet in a shower of electrical sparks.
“Oh, no, no, no!” Nickelson screamed.
“Who’s Daisy?” Sancho said.
“It’s our Siri,” Severina said. “Our Alexa. It’s the name Belenki gave to our AI.”
“Initiate what?” Nickelson wanted to know. “What’s the command?”
“Daisy,” Flynn said. “Initiate manual override.”
“Sorry, but I do not understand your command,” Daisy said.
Daisy continued to cruise at the sixty-five mile an hour speed limit even as their attackers raked the Electro Go with continuous machine gun fire. The ballistic glass buckled as individual bullets exploded through and whizzed over their heads.
“Daisy,” Flynn tried again. “Initiate manual control!”
“Sorry, but I do not understand the command.”
“Daisy!” Severina cried. “Initiate manual operation!”
“Sorry, but I do not understand the command.”
“Daisy!” Sancho screamed. “Stop the motherfucking car!”
“I’m sorry,” Daisy replied pleasantly. “But I do not respond well to profanity.”
“Are you trying to kill us?” Sancho shouted.
“Of course not. My first priority is the safety of every passenger.”
Bullets flew overhead in the passenger compartment as Flynn stayed down and unzipped his carry-on. He pulled out the dental floss garrote made from the strongest, nylon monofilament in existence. After unraveling a few feet, he wrapped it tightly around his hand.
Flynn took advantage of the temporary lull in the shooting to pop up and see where their enemies were. One motorcycle rode parallel to the driver’s side. Flynn used his elbow to knock out what was left the shattered ballistic glass. The passenger on the bike looked up at him as he reloaded his weapon.
Flynn winged the floss dispenser out the window and over the wrist of the man wielding the machine gun. The dispenser wrapped around his wrist multiple times before Flynn tugged it tight, pulling as hard as he could. The man didn’t want to let go of his gun and pulled back hard.
The floss snapped and he hit the driver in the side of his head with his weapon, knocking him right off the bike. The passenger lunged for the handlebars as the bike went down. Flynn glanced back to see both the passenger and the driver skidding and tumbling down the freeway along with their motorcycle.
Flynn pushed in the car’s cigarette lighter and then reached into his carry-on. He removed the tube of toothpaste that contained Q’s C-5. After unscrewing the cap, he squeezed a giant wad of it into his hand. The scent of mint filled the limo as Flynn knocked out what was left of the window on the passenger side with his elbow.
The roar of the motorcycle riding parallel to them was thunderous. The killer riding in the rear raised his weapon as Flynn tossed the handful of goop at him.
The white minty blob hit the gun-wielding thug square in the face, right in the eyes, blinding him. The cigarette lighter popped out, indicating it was red-hot and ready to set something ablaze. Flynn grabbed it and threw it out the window, aiming at the face of the now blinded assassin, hoping to ignite the C-5.
But the hot lighter just bounced off his face and down the back of the driver’s jacket. The man went rigid as the lighter seared his flesh. Letting go with one hand, he reached down the back of his jacket and lost control of the bike. Veering right, he crashed into the guardrail, sending himself and his passenger tumbling into the air, over the side of the embankment, followed by their motorcycle. The crash tore open the gas tank and the fuel ignited a dramatic cinematic explosion. Flynn smiled grimly.
“Well, they went out in a blaze of glory.”
Sancho, Severina, and Nickelson stared at Flynn in dumbfounded relief as Daisy continued to drive them down the highway at a safe and sober sixty-five miles an hour.
Chapter Twelve
Having grown up in modest circumstances, Severina never failed to be impressed by the entrance to Sergei Belenki’s Saratoga estate. The fifteen-foot-tall wrought iron security gates opened as if by magic for the mangled Electro Go Limo. Security cameras followed their progress as they passed between the tall stone pillars. William Randolph Hearst’s Central Coast castle had nothing on Belenki’s Northern California château. Hearst’s monument to himself was known as the La Cuesta Encantada or the Enchanted Hill. Severina knew that snarky critics of Belenki had their own name for his sprawling estate; Blinky Castle.
The road from the gates to the chateau traversed mountain hillside vineyards under chaparral and oak-covered ridges. Belenki bottled his own private label wine called Saratoga Creek. His Pinot Noir and his Chardonnay both won major prizes at the San Francisco International Wine Awards.
The Electro Go passed another set of security gates that also opened on their own. It followed a red brick path lined with flowering olive trees to a massive circular driveway surrounding a stone fountain with an ornate statue of Dionysus and a trio of zaftig half-naked nymphs.
Mr. Harper couldn’t believe how shot-to-shit the Electro Go Limo looked. It was hard for him to imagine how anyone inside could have survived. The windows were all ballistic glass yet every single one was cracked, punctured or shattered. Hundreds of bullet holes peppered the armored exterior. The headlights were smashed, and the shredded back bumper barely hung on, creating sparks as it scraped across the bricks. He stood outside the front door of Belenki’s fabulous mansion with two of his men and nodded to one of them, a burly blond with a buzz cut and the face of a pirate.
The piratical blond stepped forward and tried to open the Electro Go’s rear door, but it was smashed tight. He grunted and pulled until it reluctantly came free with a loud scrape. Sweaty and pale, Severina stepped out, her hair a mess, her clothes disheveled. Next came a distinguished older gentleman who immediately threw up in the fountain. Flynn’s Hispanic sidekick emerged after that. He too looked about to spew but didn’t. Instead, he steadied himself on the car and watched as Flynn emerged calm and cool, relaxed and unscathed.
How could Belenki have brought in Flynn after what that maniac did on Angel Island? That escaped mental patient was nearly the death of all of them. Harper was a decorated war hero. A former Army Ranger and Delta Force captain. He only hired the best of the best. Navy Seals. Army Rangers. British SAS. Flynn wasn’t an operator. He had no training. No real experience. His only survival skill was dumb luck.
Harper could never forgive Flynn for what he did on Angel Island. Flynn hadn’t killed anyone, but he easily could have.
All the embarrassing news stories and publicity nearly destroyed his business. It took a solid year to re-establish his reputation. When Belenki hired him three months ago he thought he was finally back, but now that stupid billionaire was bringing on Flynn. What could he be thinking? Harper knew he had no choice but to ride this shit out, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.
Harper heard a pleasant female voice from inside the Electro Go even though he didn’t see a driver. “I hope you enjoyed your journey. Thank you for driving with Electro Go.”
“Bite me,” Sancho said.
“Have a nice day,” Daisy happily replied as the limo pulled away, creating sparks as it dragged the dangling rear bumper across the bricks.
“Mr. Flynn, here we are again.” Harper did not extend his hand.
“Mr. Harper, so good to see you. I believe you know Sancho. And this is Dr. Nickelson.”
Nickelson still leaned over the fountain, shaky and weak from losing his lunch on the lap of a stone-cold nymph. He looked at Harper and nodded weakly.
“By the way, I believe I owe you an apology.” Flynn tugged his suit ja
cket straight.
“You do?” Harper raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“Indeed. I feel as if I left you and your men in a lurch back on Angel Island, but I’m sure you understand I couldn’t let Goolardo get away.”
“You blew up my attack helicopter.”
“Yes, that was unfortunate, but unintentional.”
“That wasn’t Beckner’s helicopter. That was mine.”
“I hope it was insured.”
“That’s not the point!”
“No, the point is I told you what was about to happen, and you didn’t believe me.”
“Because you weren’t making any sense,” Harper growled.
“He was making sense.” Sancho stepped forward. “You just didn’t know it.”
“And now he does.” Flynn flashed a smile. “So, from here on out I’m sure that Mr. Harper and I will be on the same page.”
“And what page would that be?” The motherfucking funny pages? Harper wanted to wring Flynn’s neck, but held himself back. “Son, you are five cans shy of a six-pack and shouldn’t even be here.”
“I disagree,” Sergei Belenki said as he came through the door. “It was my decision to bring on Mr. Flynn and if you can’t work with him, perhaps I should find a security firm that can.”
“Sir, I’m just being honest.”
“So am I. Call the authorities and tell them about the attack on my limo. But let them know I don’t want the press to hear about it and make it clear that no one can talk to them until after the benefit. Is that understood?”
Belenki smiled at Harper and Harper had to make a split-second decision. He shut down the glower and turned his frown upside down. “Of course, sir. This your rodeo. And if you want Mr. Flynn to help with security then I’ll do my level best to make that work.”
“I should hope so.” Belenki turned his smile towards Flynn. “Good to see you again, sir. I’m glad you made it here in one piece. Any clue as to who attacked you?”
“They all wore helmets, so we couldn’t actually see the assailants and since your autonomous vehicle wouldn’t allow us to stop, I’m afraid it’s a mystery.”
“But it could have been the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood?”