New York Run

by David Robbins

  The leader was a scarecrow of a man with a peculiar magnetic quality about him. He wore light blue pants and a blue shirt, both trimmed in gold fabric, the shirt along the end of the sleeves and the pants along the hem at the bottom. Fastened to the lapels of his shirt were gold insignia: a large T enclosed in a ring of gold and slashed through the center by a lightning bolt. His hair and eyes were a striking black, his hair cropped close to his head and slicked with an oily substance. A regal, leonine expression lent a lofty aspect to his appearance, but his eyes dominated his countenance. With their large, unfathomable pupils, veritable pools of black, they gazed at their surroundings with an imperious, haughty air.

  Their owner crossed to the easy chair and sat down. He gazed at the two Warriors and smiled. “They don’t seem so formidable without their apparel,” he remarked in a gravely voice.

  The three others laughed.

  Hickok bristled. “Let me down from here, you cow chip, and I’ll show you how formidable we are!”

  The man in the easy chair locked a baleful stare on the gunman.

  Captain Wargo walked around the chair and up to Hickok. Without any warning, he slugged the gun-fighter in the abdomen.

  Hickok gasped and tried to double over.

  “You will address the Minister with respect,” Captain Wargo instructed the gunman.

  Hickok, resisting an impulse to gag, looked at the Tcchnic captain. “Go slurp horse piss, you son of a bitch!”

  Wargo drew back his right fist.

  “That’s enough!” the Minister ordered.

  Captain Wargo stiffened, wheeled, bowed to the Minister, and took up a position behind the easy chair.

  Blade studied the other two. The man wore a brown outfit similar to the Minister’s blue one, but without the gold trim and the insignia. He was shorter, about five feet in height, and slightly hefty. His hair was gray, his eyes blue, his cheeks full and ruddy. He stood to the right of the easy chair.

  On the left side was the woman, and a lovely woman she was. Dressed in a dainty yellow blouse and a short, short green skirt, she obviously intended to accent her ample physique. Her eyes were an alert green, her hip-length hair white with a black streak down the middle.

  How did she fit into the scheme of things?

  “As Captain Wargo has revealed,” the man in the chair said, “I am the Minister.”

  “Should we kiss your feet now or later?” Hickok asked.

  Captain Wargo started forward, but the Minister held up his right hand, halting the officer in his tracks.

  The Minister frowned. “I had hoped we could conduct this on an intelligent basis.”

  “That’s a mite hard to do when you’re sittin’ on your intelligence,” Hickok cracked.

  The Minister glanced at Blade. “Are you going to let this buffoon do all the talking?”

  “Hickok’s a grown man,” Blade responded. “He can say whatever he likes.”

  The Minister grimaced distastefully. “That’s democracy for you,” he said.

  The three others, as if on cue, laughed.

  The Minister cleared his throat. “I placed you in this position to demonstrate my complete power over you. I could have you destroyed with a snap of my fingers.”

  “Then why don’t you?” Hickok interrupted. “Anything would be better than hangin’ up here with my dingus flappin’ in the air.”

  “Your… dingus… is the least of my concerns,” the Minister said acidly.

  “This is an object lesson, nothing more.”

  “Are we supposed to be impressed?” Hickok retorted.

  The Minister ignored the gunman and turned to the head of the Warriors. “You agree I could have you killed on a moment’s notice?”

  Blade didn’t reply.

  “I’ll construe your silence as agreement,” the Minister said. “I trust I’ve made my point.”

  “What point?” Hickok rejoined. “That you’re a pervert who gets his kicks ogling folks in the nude?”

  The Minister turned to Captain Wargo. “Silence this moron!”

  Captain Wargo nodded and walked to the center of the left-hand wall.

  He touched a circular indentation and a recessed panel opened. A metallic tray emerged from the wall bearing a syringe and a box of cotton balls.

  The syringe was tipped with a red plastic cap.

  “Why is it some varmint is always tryin’ to stick me with needles?”

  Hickok quipped, referring to an incident during their last run.

  “You leave me no recourse,” the Minister declared, smirking. “Nothing personal, you understand?”

  “You’ve got it all wrong, jackass,” Hickok said harshly. “I’m takin’ this humiliation real personal-like. And you’ll see just how personal when you let me down from here.”

  “I’m trembling in abject fear!” the Minister joked.

  His chorus laughed.

  Captain Wargo had removed the red cap from the syringe. He walked over to the gunman and raised the syringe near his left arm.

  Hickok’s blue eyes narrowed. “The first thing I’m gonna do if you let me go,” he promised the Minister, “is kill you.”

  “Shut the fool up!” the Minister barked.

  Captain Wargo plunged the syringe into the gunman’s left arm, brutally, relishing the discomfort he caused.

  Hickok winced, then glanced at Blade. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” He was about to say more, but the shot took immediate effect. His eyes drooped, then closed.

  “Now that the imbecile is silenced,” the Minister said, “perhaps we can proceed with a modicum of decorum?” He saw Blade examining the gunman with concern. “Don’t worry about your friend. The tranquilizer Wargo administered will render Hickok unconscious for six to ten hours. He’ll awaken refreshed and as obnoxious as ever.”

  Blade sighed in relief. He nodded at the shackle on his light wrist. “Why go to all this trouble? We were cooperating with you. We gave our word we would help find the Genesis Seeds. Why did you turn against us?”

  The Minister hesitated. “Insurance,” he answered at last.

  “Insurance?”

  “Of course. A man in my position, with so many relying on my every judgment, cannot afford to make mistakes. My people expect me to perform flawlessly, and I will not disappoint them.” The Minister paused. “I know you promised to assist in retrieving the Genesis Seeds. But what’s to stop you from confiscating the Seeds for yourselves after they’re located?”

  Blade leaned forward. “We gave you our word!”

  “So you did. But your word means nothing to me. Actions, Blade—may I call you Blade?—speak louder than words. And there was nothing to preclude your taking action against us. I require insurance. I needed to compel your total cooperation. And I’ve achieved my goal.”

  “No you haven’t,” Blade said. “You can stuff your Seeds where the sun doesn’t shine! We’ll never cooperate now!”

  The Minister smiled, displaying two rows of small, even teeth. He rolled up his left sleeve and stared at a watch. “I think you will.”

  “Why should we?” Blade countered. “You may have us, but Geronimo is still free. You’ll never be able to stop him from leaving, from breaking through your fence and returning to the Home. The Freedom Federation will learn about your treachery. They’ll put you out of business, Minister. You and this technological prison you call a city!”

  The Minister grinned and shook his head. “My dear Blade! You are suffering from several delusions! First, Geronimo will not warn the Freedom Federation because he won’t be leaving Technic City. Secondly, your bitterness is understandable but unwarranted. I don’t intend to harm any of you. I could have done that while you were unconscious. As I already told you, this is merely a demonstration of my power. To show you what I could do if I wanted.”

  “What do you mean?” Blade demanded. “Why won’t Geronimo be leaving Technic City?”

  “You’ll see shortly,” the Minister stated. “Onc
e you realize the futility of opposing me, you will assent to my wishes.”

  “Don’t hold your breath!” Blade cracked.

  The door on the other side of the room swung open, and in came three men. Two soldiers in green fatigues with a captive draped between them, sagging in their arms.

  It was Geronimo.

  Blade gawked at his friend, startled. “How—?”

  “How did we do it?” the Minister finished the question. “Why, it was simplicity itself. Captain Wargo dropped a gas grenade in the SEAL before exiting. It was timed to release its knockout gas thirty minutes after being activated. Your poor Geronimo never knew what hit him.”

  Blade could readily envision the result A cloud of noxious gas filling the confines of the SEAL and overcoming Geronimo within seconds. “But the SEAL…”

  “Ahhhh. Your vaunted vehicle!” The Minister cackled. “Presumably impenetrable.”

  “How did you break in?” Blade asked.

  “We utilized a clothes hanger,” the Minister replied.

  “A what?”

  “A clothes hanger. You know. Wires you hang clothes on,” the Minister said gleefully.

  “That’s impossible!” Blade said.

  “And an industrial diamond drill,” the Minister added. “You see, we knew it would be useless to attempt any other method. We’ve heard stories about your vehicle. Bulletproof. Fireproof. But not clothes-hanger proof, eh?” He laughed uproariously, joined by his subservient trio.

  Blade’s mind was racing. They’d broken into the SEAL! No one had ever been able to do that! With the SEAL in enemy hands, the Warriors had lost their primary advantage. They were at the Minister’s mercy!

  “We drilled through the driver’s window,” the Minister was explaining, gloating, savoring his triumph. “I don’t think you realize it, but you were unconscious six hours. In six hours an industrial diamond drill can penetrate any substance known to man, including the SEAL’s unique plastic structure. Captain Wargo advised our driller on where to align his bit, and we drilled in adjacent to the door lock. Don’t worry! The hole is a small one, not even noticeable unless you know where to look for it. Once the hole was drilled, we slid a straightened hanger through and unlatched the lock. An easy procedure, really. Prior to World War III, car thieves did it all the time.” He chuckled. “The SEAL is now ours.”

  Blade, in a surge of frustration, strained against the manacles binding him. He’d failed! Failed the Family. Failed Plato. And, worst of all, failed Hickok and Geronimo. Why had he assumed the SEAL was invulnerable?

  He’d left it outside like a sitting duck! He’d acted like a grade-A chump! And look at what had happened!

  “If you could only see the comical look on your face!” the Minister said, smiling broadly.

  Fire flamed in Blade’s gray eyes, and his powerful fists clenched and unclenched.

  One of the troopers carrying Geronimo released his grip and marched to the easy chair. He saluted and held up a set of keys in his left hand.

  The keys to the SEAL.

  The Minister took the keys and waved the soldier away from his chair.

  “Do you see these?” He dangled the keys in the air. “I could get in the SEAL and drive it wherever I want. But I won’t. Wouldn’t you like to know the reason?”

  “You’ll tell me whether I want to know it or not.”

  “Be nice,” the Minister cautioned. “I won’t drive the SEAL off because I’m going to give the keys back to you.”

  “Why are you being so generous?” Blade asked sarcastically.

  “Because I’ve proven my point. I have no need for your vehicle. You will resume your journey to New York City and retrieve the Genesis Seeds as originally planned.” He paused, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know the reason?”

  Blade felt an intense rage welling within him. Had his arms been free, he would have throttled the Minister’s neck. “Why?”

  “Because that one,” and the Minister pointed at Hickok, “will remain here. I told you I needed insurance. Well, the fool is my insurance. He will stay with us until you return. If you betray us, you will never see your friend again.”

  “Our relationship will be based on trust then,” Blade commented dryly.

  “Trust must be earned,” the Minister said. “You must prove you are trustworthy, just as I have proven my reliability to you.”

  “You have?” Blade said skeptically.

  “Certainly. I could have slain you, but didn’t. I could have taken your vehicle, but I haven’t. What more could I do to convince you I’m sincere?”

  Blade almost laughed aloud. Sincere? The Minister was as sincere as the legendary serpent in the Garden of Eden!

  “Release him,” the Minister said to Captain Wargo. “Take him next door and dress him. Then take Blade and Geronimo to the cafeteria and feed them. Have your squad report to you there. I will join you in an hour.”

  “As you command,” Wargo said. His heels clicked together, and he moved to his left around the chair.

  Blade tensed. He debated the wisdom of making a break for it, but discarded the idea. Hickok and Geronimo were both unconscious. He would be unable to carry them both to safety. Besides, there was little he could do while unarmed and naked. He would have to bide his time.

  Captain Wargo produced a key and quickly unlocked the manacles securing Blade. “No hard feelings?” he asked.

  Blade wanted to drive his fist into Wargo’s smug face. Instead, he smiled. “No hard feelings,” he lied.

  “This way,” Captain Wargo said, motioning for Blade to follow him.

  The Minister nodded at them as they passed. He waited until Wargo, Blade, the two troopers and Geronimo were gone before he spoke again.

  “What did you think?” he inquired of the man in brown.

  “An excellent performance,” the man responded. “Blade appeared to be thoroughly confounded. He’ll never suspect your true.motives.”

  The woman raised her right hand and patted her hair into place. “I don’t get it,” she said in a squeaky voice.

  The Minister faced her. “What don’t you get?”

  “Any of this,” the woman said. “Why’d you hand the keys over to him? I thought you want the SEAL?”

  The Minister sighed. He stood and moved next to the woman. “My one weakness,” he said softly, gently placing his right hand under her chin, “and she has to be mentally deficient.”

  “Are you talking about me?” the woman asked in an annoyed tone.

  The Minister smiled sweetly. “No, Loretta, darling,” he said in a reserved manner, then abruptly thundered, “I’m talking about the tooth fairy!”

  The woman recoiled, but his hand gripped her chin, restraining her in place.

  “How many times must I explain it to you?” the Minister angrily demanded.

  Loretta wanted to speak, but her mouth was immobile, forced shut by the pressure on her chin.

  “We have the capability of constructing a hundred SEALs,” the Minister said, as if he were a teacher instructing a wayward pupil, his bearing condescending, his fingers digging into her skin. “With one exception. The SEAL is composed of a special plastic, an alloy unlike any other in existence, developed by Kurt Carpenter’s scientists shortly before World War III. There isn’t another vehicle like the SEAL on the face of the earth.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “I want the secret of that alloy. I want to know how they made the SEAL’s body. I want to duplicate their process, discover the formula they used. Once I have it in my hands, we will produce hundreds of war machines with the same plastic. We’ll be unstoppable! The Freedom Federation will crumble before our armored might! And the Soviets will be next!” A fanatical gleam infested the Minister’s black eyes. “We will assume our rightful place in the world! The Technics will subjugate the globe and establish a new world order! We will achieve a new and higher destiny!” He released his hold on Loretta’s chin, lost in an inner rapture.

  “So why don’t you just ta
ke their SEAL and be done with it?” Loretta stupidly inquired.

  The Minister’s right hand swept up, ready to strike.

  Loretta flinched, raising her right arm to protect her face. To her surprise, he lowered his hand and stepped back.

  “Will you elaborate for this… this… person, Arthur,” the Minister asked, stalking toward the door.

  Arthur nodded. “We can’t merely appropriate their vehicle because it might have a self-destruct mechanism.”

  Loretta’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “The Warriors might have a way of blowing up the SEAL if anyone attempts to steal it or drive it off,” Arthur detailed. “Even drilling into the window entailed a calculated risk. But it also accomplished another purpose.”

  “What’s that?” Loretta queried.

  “Even as we speak,” Arthur said, “our chemists are analyzing the fragments we drilled from the window. With any luck, they’ll discover the secret of the SEAL’s adamantine plastic before Blade and the others return from New York City. If not…” He shrugged. “We will confiscate the SEAL.”

  Loretta grinned. “I get it! This way, you kill two birds with one stone!

  The Warriors will get the canisters you need, and you’ll get the chemical formula you want. With the canisters and the formula, our army will be invincible!”

  “Exactly,” Arthur said.

  “Are you two coming?” the Minister demanded. He was standing in the doorway, holding the door open.

  Loretta strolled toward him. “I’m impressed. How do you keep coming up with such brilliant plans?”

  The Minister grinned. “All it requires is an exceptional intellect.”

  “Do you really think they can get the canisters?” Loretta inquired.

  “They’ll have an excellent chance using the SEAL,” the Minister said.

  “Once we have the canisters, we can commence work on the projectiles.

  Our foes will be putty in our hands.”

  “It’s too bad you have to go to so much trouble,” Loretta remarked.

  “Too bad you can’t just take the SEAL and be done with it.”

  “True,” the Minister agreed. “But we can’t risk losing the SEAL before our scientists have unraveled its secrets. Captain Wargo didn’t detect any evidence of any such device, but he couldn’t be sure. And all Blade would have to do is press a secret button while climbing from the SEAL, and it might explode if we tampered with it.”