We won't be caught up

The setting is planet Earth, the city of Chicago _______________________________________ A couple of days passed, and Limburger didn't try to approach Flora's hotel again, and the mouse bikers felt like it was a lull before the storm. Cross and Patron still rode around town near the hotel to prevent Limburger from harming the girl. Patron enjoyed participating in the games the mice played at the stadium when it was empty. Cross often entertained himself by playing the guitar and playing tunes he heard on the radio. The TV screen in the garage was filled with a beautiful female announcer reciting a prepared script: "The mayor's office is hosting a gala next week, and all of Chicago's most influential people will be there." "I wonder if Flora will be there..." Cross mused aloud as he stood by the lift, which held another car. "We'll try to get the guest list," Charlie replied. It turned out that Flora Deloren was among the guests, and Lawrence Limburger's presence at the event raised concerns.

Grease Pit was walking down the corridor of the skyscraper, heading to Limburger's office from the Carbuncle Laboratories. He was carefully carrying a small velvet box, which the doctor had strictly forbidden him to open.

"I wonder, Mr. Limburger, what are you going to propose to someone?" he mused aloud, stopping at the door of the boss's office, scratching his head. The door opened and he entered, handing over the velvet case. When Limburger opened it, the Plutarchian's face broke into a satisfied smile. "This little girl will help me achieve my goal," he said maliciously. "Eee, boss, I hope she's beautiful...I've just never seen you with a lady...and I wish you happiness...just in case," Grease Pit muttered, wiping a tear from his face. "Get out, you idiot!"!! Limburger shouted at him, and the Grease Pit hurried away, almost missing the door. In the evening, all the influential and wealthy people of Chicago gathered for a party. Flora arrived on time, accompanied by her bodyguards. Her long champagne-colored lyrac dress shimmered with a subtle glimmer whenever the light caught it, and it fit her perfectly, following the contours of her body. "Listen, Walter, if my security guards keep running around the room, it's going to annoy the guests," she said. "Miss Flora, I am responsible for your safety, and I will decide how to protect you," the man insisted. "Just don't overdo it, okay?" the girl asked and entered the building where the celebration was being held. Flora's presence did not go unnoticed, which was not what she had hoped for. She was surrounded by well-dressed men in expensive suits. The conversation mainly focused on the company's future plans, the prospects for collaboration, and the areas of focus for its operations in Chicago. The conversation also included Limburger. Flora forced a smile when he approached her. "Allow me to express my deepest respect, Miss Deloren," he said with a slight bow, as much as his size would allow. "The city is incredibly lucky to have your conglomerate take an interest in it. And on behalf of my company, I am ready to provide all possible material and other support to your noble cause," he said loudly, in order to draw more attention to the nobility he was about to display. "Mr. Limburger, as far as I know, since your company's headquarters are located in Chicago, you've had the opportunity to provide assistance to the city and its residents. However, your involvement in this area is questionable. Additionally, I am currently representing my company and do not have the authority to enter into any transactions," Flora replied with a smile. Limburger turned red with anger, as everyone at the high society gathering, including the mayor of the city, could hear it. Flora walked away from him, going out onto the terrace to get some fresh air. The classical music playing in the hall barely drowned out the chatter of the people gathered. The night city was shining with many lights, starting to live its nightlife, and was more beautiful than during the day. "You shouldn't go out in the open," she heard Walter say. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little bored. Is it my duty to attend such events? I think I've met all the rich and prominent people in town, and some of them have even told me how wonderful their sons are," she sighed sadly. "I'm afraid it's your duty now," Walter confirmed, and Flora had no choice but to return to the hall with a forced smile. Five motorcyclists were speeding down the highway leading to the city center. "I just hope we get there before that rotten fish causes any trouble," Trottle said anxiously. "Damn it," Vincent said in frustration. "We'll need the right atmosphere," said Modo, turning on the radio on his bike. The deafening roar of rock music echoed through the area. Here our soldiers stand from all around the world Waiting in a line to hear the battle cry All are gathered here victory is near The sound will fill the hall bringing power to us all We alone are fighting for metal that is true We own the right to live the fight we're here for all of you Now swear the blood upon your steel will never dry Stand and fight together beneath the metal sky Brothers Everywhere Raise you hands into the air We're warriors Warriors of The World Like thunder from the sky Sworn to fight and die We're warriors Warriors of The World. "Oh, yes, that's the ticket," Trottle approved. When they arrived at the building, they noticed that the underground and above-ground parking lots were teeming with Limburger's mercenaries. Upon entering the underground and spotting them, the bikers opened fire on their jeeps. Modo was throwing them around, engaging in hand-to-hand combat. However, there was something amiss, and it set Trottle on edge, as the mercenaries' behavior was uncharacteristic. "Stop, brothers!" he said sharply. "What's the matter?" Vinnie was annoyed at being interrupted in his fun. "That's what," Trollt replied, pointing to the wrecked vehicles and the fallen bodies, "They're not resisting. There's no return fire. They're just scattering at the sight of us. Limburger's mercenaries aren't even armed." Modo examined the underground garage and looked up to see the surveillance cameras. "Oh, I don't like this," Modo replied. "Rimfire, set up surveillance of the hall. Don't get involved in a fight," Trottle said over the intercom. "It will be done," replied the young freedom fighter. He pulled out a wide-mouthed gun and fired mini cameras at each window of the room where the people were. The cameras stuck to the windows and now a miniature monitor could be seen and heard everything that was happening there. "We need to keep an eye on Limburger," said Cross, who was just as busy watching the outside as Rimfire, but on the other side of the building. He switched to the appropriate camera. Limburger walked over to the buffet table and picked up a couple of champagne glasses. He took a velvet box out of his inside jacket pocket and opened it. Inside was a small purple capsule. He threw it into one of the glasses and the champagne turned purple for a moment, but after a while it turned back to its normal color. "After drinking this, this feisty girl will fall into a deep coma in about an hour, and no one will be able to think that I had anything to do with it. Her conglomerate will be forced to shut down its operations. Goodbye, Miss Deloraine. I'm a genius, I'm definitely a genius! He gloated aloud, picking up the glasses and heading towards Flora. "Let me offer you a glass of champagne. Let's toast to our introduction and the successful operation of your company in Chicago," Limburger suggested to the young woman. She accepted the glass from his hand, considering it impolite to refuse and put the man in an even more awkward position. "Cross, this toad wants to poison Flora...a glass of champagne," the biker heard his partner's alarmed voice in his headphones, and he abruptly turned the throttle of his bike. The guards scattered in terror as he rode up the stairs into the building. Soon, the doors of the banquet hall burst open, almost coming off their hinges, and the biker rode into the room, causing everyone to gasp in surprise. He stopped his motorcycle, spun around, and pulled a gun from his hip holster, pointing it at Flora. Flora froze in fear, her face turning pale. A shot rang out, and the glass of champagne that Miss Deloraine was holding shattered. The hall was filled with screams and screams. The panic began. Someone hurried to the terrace, someone to the front door, away from danger. Instantly, a tall, powerful brunette with a pistol appeared in front of the girl, who was warned about a possible threat and shot the attacker several times. Something burned Cross's shoulder, and he pushed the throttle, lifting the motorcycle onto its rear wheel, and left the room, jumping out the window with the bike. "Flora, are you all right? Are you hurt?" Walter asked, turning to her. There were guards all around them. The girl couldn't move for fear. Her eyes were filled with silent horror. "Flora," he called, shaking her by the shoulders to bring her back to her senses. She looked at him consciously. "I'm fine," the girl replied quietly. She was escorted out of the building and taken to a hotel. "Well, there won't be any events other than the ones we've planned," her security chief said angrily, pacing the room. In front of Flora's eyes, she still saw the image of the gun pointed at her and her frightened face reflected in the visor of the motorcyclist's helmet. The memories brought her back to the past in an instant. Only this time, it was her who had the gun pointed at her, and her father's shout of "Get down" echoed in her ears. The flames erupting from the gun, the thunder of the shots, and the shattering of glass. Cross's bike took him further and further away from the city center. The pain in his arm became more noticeable. "Cross, are you all right?" Rimfire's concerned voice came over the speakers, pulling him away from his intense thoughts. He could still see her frightened blue-green eyes and her white face. "Everything is going wrong..." he thought, realizing that the prospect of their conversation was gradually fading away with each of his actions. It was unlikely that the girl would think anything good if a man who she believed had shot at her came to her just to talk. Although Cross had shot at a glass of poisoned champagne, he didn't know how to explain this to her. Something told him that his arguments would be ignored, and the girl would unlikely believe in his good intentions. With these gloomy thoughts, he drove into the Last Chance Garage with the others. "How did it go?" Charlie asked. "That stinking ham..." Vincent was angry. "That Plutarkian bastard has become even more cunning and cautious," said Modo. "Something tells me this mission will backfire," Trottle sighed. When Cross got off the bike, he swayed slightly to the side. He took off his helmet and jacket. "Cross, you're hurt!" Carabine was alarmed. Only then did he notice that his hand was shot and bleeding. "It's nothing. Just a scratch," the guy said. "A scratch?! It could get infected," Charlie said, looking for a first aid kit. Carabina approached him and examined his hand. "You're lucky that the bullet passed through and didn't hit a bone. But that doesn't mean you should take it lightly," she said as she disinfected the wound, causing the guy to grimace slightly. He kept catching Rimfire's worried gaze. After the bandage was applied, Rimfire was instructed to take him to the shelter, as Cross was in no condition to drive. "You didn't tell me again," said Rimfire, looking at him reproachfully when they were alone in the shelter. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was that badly injured. I thought I was just cut by glass when I jumped out the window," Cross explained. "That's the way you always are. All you ever say is, 'Don't go there, it's dangerous.' I'm not the same little mouse that needed your care and protection. When will you learn to trust me and treat me as an equal?" said Rimfire with a bitter tone. "Rimfire, I'm not belittling you. It's just that there wasn't enough time... and I had to act quickly," Cross said as he sat in his hammock, leaning back and swaying slightly. "There wasn't enough time again! You're always finding excuses and justifications. And why are you so attached to this girl, rushing to save her without considering the consequences? You've always been sensible and rational, but now. Is talking to her so important to you that you're willing to risk your life? What could possibly attract you to her?" The Rimfire said angrily. "Probably the unfair way she treated me," Cross replied calmly after a moment's thought. Rimfire looked at his friend more calmly, and his black eyes softened a little. "You know, there are a lot of girls on Mars who would be jealous if they knew you were doing this for a human," Rimfire said. "How much?" Cross asked in surprise. Rimfire laughed, realizing that his friend was not observant in this regard.

***

"Damned biker mice. May you rot in hell. Well, you asked for it. We'll see who's who," Limburger fumed from his office in the tower of his company. "Boss, I think there were more this time than once... twice...three," said Grease Pit, counting on his fingers. "So they've received reinforcements from Mars. Well, there will be more mice smeared on the wall this time," Limburger said confidently.