"Great 21st Century Novel"

199. Ben Rawlings and Sheila were cruising along comfortably, laughing at nothing, smiling as they held hands like teenagers in the throws of their first crushes, enjoying being together for the first time since, well, the last time. Sheila looked at Ben, and asked, "Do you think we can really get out of this game? Do you think we are really safe? Are you sure that they can't track us?" Ben smiled confidently, "I took care of that. I switched the cars. They'll be tracking a decoy headed for Bar Harbor." Sheila's smile beamed brighter than ever, wondering how she was going to be able to contact Fritz to get a handle on the game plan.

200. "Where, where, where?" thought Ken. His mind was still fuzzy and he hurt. Continuity was hard to maintain... everything seemed disjointed... he felt he was wasting time. There was a small trickle of blood at the side of his forehead and his left knee was bothering him. He was still somewhat uncoordinated and had tumbled down a few of those 18 flights of stairs. "Focus". He activated the BMW's navigation console and turned on the radio. Pink Floyd's 'Comfortably Numb' was playing. "Ironic", he thought. He left it playing but also tuned in the police scanner. It was a standard M6, but his car had a few upgrades.

201. There wasn't much traffic on the streets this late at night. "Good" he thought. He jabbed his thigh with the needle-vial of epinephrine he took from the BMW's first aid kit. The Company had detailed him to this region once before and he hated the traffic here...This would work to his advantage.

Through the navigation console he accessed the Net and brought up the traffic cams. He ran one of Fritz's many clever programs. The differential search algorithm scanned all of the area traffic cams seeking only cam images with scenes that changed. It pruned hundreds of images down to a few dozen. Ken scanned those few himself and quickly identified the activity surrounding the stopped black limousine on the side of I-95 as the highest probable line.

He turned north onto the interstate on-ramp and opened with all 500 horses of the BMW's M6 V-10... an unorthodoxed openning if there ever was one.

Originally posted by Kentron
201. There wasn't much traffic on the streets this late at night. "Good" he thought. He jabbed his thigh with the needle-vial of epinephrine he took from the BMW's first aid kit. The Company had detailed him to this region once before and he hated the traffic here...This would work to his advantage.

Through the navigation console he accessed the Net and ...[text shortened]... ith all 500 horses of the BMW's M6 V-10... an unorthodoxed openning if there ever was one.

203. Doyle sat despondent. His queen (lizzy) had been decoyed to a micronesian island chasing a hoax. His new "Queen" that he had promoted was now seemingly lost, trapped and wounded, and about to be "neutralized" by a double agent. the only choice he seemed to have left was to resign. give up. all was now lost. or so it seemed when Fritz proposed a radical strategy that only the most desperate agent would undertake. the yet uncalled upon "sleeper" agent. Myron Broadmerkille, a used book clerk in soho could enter the latvian embassy with a package for the prime minister. it seemed a hopeless gambit. surely they would "smell a rat" and execute him immediately. but what if it worked?

204. three police chase vehicles, a rescue unit, a fire truck with first responders, and two ambulances with paramedics and EMTs were on the scene with their red lights flashing. the paramedics started IV lines and administered 100% oxygen through masks. Sheila was losing consciousness fast (or so it seemed). They took her first and sped her off to the trauma center. Ken stayed behind to try and question Ben, as Sheila was unconscious and "knocked out" with morphine, so she would be useless - for information, right now.

205. as soon as the ambulance traveled 5.2 miles from the accident scene Sheila appeared to almost miraculously begin to recover consciousness, while in fact, she was quite well. none of the rescuers, or Ken realized how well the seat belts and airbags in the limosine worked. the paramedics were checking her vital signs and level of consciousness, assured that their IV fluids were helping her regain consciousness.

206. Sheila needed to guarantee a quick escape from the trauma center, knowing that Ken and Ben, and who knows who else, would be following right behind in minutes. She quickly engaged her most reliable resource and looked at the paramedic, deep into his eyes, crinkled her frown in the most sincere appreciative and admiring gaze, and said, "thank you (sob) you . .you . . .(choke) . .saved my life . . . .i know it . . . you did" and he . .well ... you know ..... being a man . . .

207. The engine service idiot light glowed on the dashboard as the 500 horses of the M6 stalled as a result of the accident. The epinephrine surged through his system. It would keep him going. Ken exhaled meditatively and mentally re-centered himself. A knight is strongest there and he was a Knight of the Kingdom.

He could see Ben laying there in the grassy median ejected from the black Deville and Sheila being wisked away in one of two ambulances... the fake one. She had no idea of the trouble she was in, but she was now going to have to deal with that on her own.

Accident... this was no accident! It was a calculated line on an open file, and Ken was going to get answers.

208. Ken unbuckled his seat belt and took the hard drive from the BMW's navigation console and the red stilletos which had fallen from the passenger seat to the floor. As unnecessary reassurance he fingered his shoulder holstered M1911A1 side arm concealed under his jacket and exited the vehicle.

The beautiful titanium silver driving machine was banged up a bit. What a shame, he was going to have to get a new one. There were blue and red sirens flashing and whinning. The police, fire, and rescue personnel were springing into action. He would have to be quick.

209. He grabbed his field pack from the car's trunk and headed toward the median where Ben Rawlings lay moaning. Paramedics were heading that way too as the state police were securing the accident perimeter. As he closed the distance to Ben, Ken reached for the key fob in his pocket and pressed a five button sequence. The EMI shielding seperated from the magnesium flares attached to the sides of the fuel tank underneath the Silver six series. He repeated the sequence again. The electronic pyrotechnics package received the pulse modulated signal and ignited the flares. As Ken reached the center of the grassy median some twenty five yards away the flares burned through the aluminum fuel tank and the BMW lit up the dark.

210. Ken covered Ben Rawlings with his own body to shield him from the falling burning debris. He looked at Ben illuminated by the light and heat of the fireball that was once Ken's favorite car. "What a mess." Ken thought. Not just Ben, but this whole situation. Ben was not making a very good agent, but that was Ken's fault. Failure is always a failure of leadership. The Company had recruited Ben and the others to be on Ken's team but it was all going wrong. Ken knew the reason, it was his one singular weakness. He knew people... their deep motivating psychology. He knew that Ben had been driven to jealousy, an emotion Ken was lacking. He prefered to share the favors of beautiful intellectual women, not possess them or be owned by them. Jealousy is the green-eyed monster that can destroy relationships over imaginary threats. There were plenty of real ones...


He didn't know what condition Ben was in, he would have to assess that later. For now he was going to have to move him as the distraction of the BMW explosion on the flank of the interstate served its purpose. "Come on Big Ben." Ken grunted as he lifted the younger less experienced man. With Ben thrown across his shoulders in a military style rescue carry Ken headed off toward the darkness.

Originally posted by Kentron
210. Ken covered Ben Rawlings with his own body to shield him from the falling burning debris. He looked at Ben illuminated by the light and heat of the fireball that was once Ken's favorite car. "What a mess." Ken thought. Not just Ben, but this whole situation. Ben was not making a very good agent, but that was Ken's fault. Failure is always a failure of l ...[text shortened]... cross his shoulders in a military style rescue carry Ken headed off toward the darkness.

212. After Sheila agreed to let them monitor her vital signs for 10 more minutes, the lead paramedic took her blood pressure and auscultated her chest with the stethoscope. While he placed the bell on her chest to pretend to auscultate, she fully well knowing where his concentration really was, she slammed her hand hard together on the ear pieces with the IV boards on her wrists, driving the earpieces into his brain. She knew that he was an agent the moment that he had the earpieces pointing backward in his ears instead of forward and used the bell of the scope to auscultate her breath sounds instead of the diaphragm. his death was instant. his partner sat dumbounded in horror at the scene for one thousandth of a second too long and caught the heel of sheila's foot on his trachea. she shocked his brain with high voltage direct current from the defibrillator for good measure, calculating that would get her about another 10 minutes. They lay on the side of the road as Sheila drove the ambulance back onto I-95 and headed South at 100 mph.

Originally posted by coquette
212. After Sheila agreed to let them monitor her vital signs for 10 more minutes, the lead paramedic took her blood pressure and auscultated her chest with the stethoscope. While he placed the bell on her chest to pretend to auscultate, she fully well knowing where his concentration really was, she slammed her hand hard together on the ear pieces with the I ...[text shortened]... the side of the road as Sheila drove the ambulance back onto I-95 and headed South at 100 mph.