We won't be caught up

The setting is planet Earth, the city of Chicago ___________________________________________ The next day, Charlie kicked Cross out of the garage, calling him a workaholic. He had no choice but to join Trottle and the others on another raid. The mission was to destroy or render completely unusable a weapons cache disguised as a building materials warehouse owned by Limburger. They had to drive to the other side of town. As always, music blared from Vincent's bike radio. Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for? Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore? The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on. "As long as there's a bike, the road never ends," Vincent said cheerfully. "As long as there's a butt, something happens to it," Modo added. The other mice responded with restrained laughter, having heard their conversation over the comm in their motorcycle helmets. Soon, they had reached the desired warehouse. Naturally, it was heavily guarded. Well, at least that was the perception of those who were guarding it. After a shootout that quickly escalated into a hand-to-hand combat, they managed to capture the warehouse. The surviving members of the Chumazoid's thugs were forced to retreat. To the mice's surprise, the weapons were not of Earthly origin. The wooden boxes were filled with Plutarkian blasters. "So that's how it is. Limburger is unable to transfer resources to Plutark due to your interference. Therefore, he has decided to produce weapons here and supply the finished product. I sensed that something was amiss," Carbine realized. "But they need Plutarkian steel to make their weapons," Trottle objected. "Some terrestrial metals are suitable for its production. The rest must be imported from Plutark or somewhere else,"Carbine said. "So, you need to find out where the material transfer point is and where the weapons are manufactured?" Modo said. "Is there a factory that is disguised as a baby food factory?" The Rimfire chuckled. The weapons were decided to be re-hidden and later transferred to the Freedom Fighters on Mars. After leaving the warehouse, they blew it up in accordance with their long-standing tradition. Thus, Cross was busy until late in the evening. "You're going to your princess again," Vincent remarked, watching Cross prepare to leave. "What's it got to do with you," the mouse snapped, his purple eyes flashing unkindly, expecting him to make another sharp joke about it. "Hey, don't get mad, buddy. I wish you well. Only if you really like a girl, be bolder, of course, within reasonable limits," Vincent said. "I'll keep that in mind," Cross replied grimly, putting on his helmet and starting the motorcycle. As always, he found himself in a traffic jam, and as he stood in line with various vehicles, he listened to another tune, deciding to use it as a prediction of how the evening would unfold. A song was playing from the nearby white Volvo XC90 I. Flora was sitting on the couch, dressed in jeans and a blue denim shirt. After yesterday's trip, she had made a firm decision to dress warmer. The night wind gently swayed the light curtains that covered the entrance to the balcony. She found herself thinking that she might get used to these late-night visits, and she was already looking forward to his arrival. Was this a good or a bad thing? How long would it last, given that she would eventually leave? Flora sighed heavily, weighed down by her thoughts. 2Hi, what are you thinking about?" Suddenly she heard his voice from the balcony. "Just like that..." the girl answered vaguely. "Is something wrong?" He guessed. "Nothing yet," Flora replied. "Well, shall we go for a ride?"he asked. Cross took her by the hand and started to lead her out onto the balcony. "Let me try the central entrance anyway," she said. "Are you sure?" Cross asked doubtfully. "It's worth a try. If I'm not back in ten minutes, leave and pick me up at the hotel," the girl replied. "Whatever you say," he agreed. The girl took a suede light beige jacket and, putting it on, left the room, locking it with a key. Going downstairs by elevator and coming out to the hall, she barely slowed down and managed to duck around the corner, as in front of the reception stood Walter and was talking to the concierge. Flora froze, holding her breath. She did not try to eavesdrop on the conversation, but simply quietly leave, so that the bodyguard would not notice her. Fortunately, she was wearing sneakers with soft soles, and her step was almost silent. She quietly returned to the elevator. The time allotted for waiting was almost up. He headed to the balcony to jump down and, by going around the building, pick her up at the front entrance. Suddenly he heard the sound of a key turning and hid on the balcony behind the door, not knowing who had entered the room. Flora came out onto the balcony and looked around, thinking that Cross had already left. But she was immediately pulled into his strong arms again, almost screaming in surprise. "I see it didn't work out," he guessed. "Walter's downstairs... It's not the right time for him to chat with the concierge," she lamented. Because of the helmet, she couldn't see Cross's smile. "Then we'll have to get out of the room as usual," he said, picking her up. They went down, as usual, by driving along the wall of the hotel. And, having left on the highway, which was busy, despite the late time, did not immediately notice that they were followed by several people on ATVs. "Cross, I think we're being chased," she said loudly, so that he could hear. "Don't worry, they won't catch up," the biker assured her, and abruptly turned the throttle, speeding up. They drove around the city for a while, trying to lose the chase, until they returned to the city limits and reached the slums. After weaving through the dilapidated high-rise buildings, Cross finally stopped the bike in a dark, narrow alleyway between the houses. He got off the bike without turning off the engine, and the girl followed suit. He touched the dashboard with his fingers and set the bike's direction. Seeing the pursuers, in which he recognized Limburger's thugs, the biker turned the gas handle, and the bike, taking off from the spot, rushed away. Flora watched his actions in a daze. Cross, without explaining anything, took her hand, and they entered a dark alley. Cross led her to the side of the house and put his arms around her, pulling her close to shield her from the light coming from the road. He slowly pulled a gun from his hip holster, knowing that if they were spotted, they would not be able to escape their pursuers. "Cross, what's going on?" Flora asked quietly, cautiously. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you," he promised just as quietly. Soon, the sound of several ATV engines could be heard. They passed by, heading after Cross's empty bike without even stopping. Cross instinctively pulled the girl closer to him. Her hands rested on his forearms, and she found herself feeling the steel of his muscles even through the leather of his jacket. She had noticed his impressive strength on their first day together. The way he effortlessly lifted her into his arms, as if she weighed nothing. "I wonder if he got so pumped up at the auto repair shop?" she suddenly thought to herself. Wondering why she was even thinking about it at such a tense moment. Every day, this mysterious guy intrigued her more and more. "Maybe he's acting like this because he wants me not to lose interest in him?" the girl thought and noted that Cross was doing great so far. Cross kept a close eye on the road for a while, waiting. He didn't want the pursuers to return before his bike did. After a while, he heard the familiar, steady sound of an engine. His bike had arrived. Cross cautiously peeked around the corner. Limburger's thugs were nowhere to be seen. They had quickly mounted their bikes and departed. They drove back to the river, to the green-covered bank. "I have two questions: who are these people and how does your bike manage to ride without a driver? What's this... Radio control?" she asked, sitting down on a boulder that had been warmed up during the hot day. Cross sat down on the grass, thinking hard about what to say. "These people are Limburger's mercenaries. They were behind your abduction," he answered the first half of the question. "What proof do you have?" Are you following him?" The girl was wary. "I'm keeping an eye on him," the guy replied vaguely. "So he's not just a regular mechanic... Maybe he's a secret agent working undercover, so he has to stay hidden," she thought, but she didn't ask any questions. "I admit that Limburger is not a very pleasant person, but he would not act so rudely. Besides, we are not competitors in anything," the girl argued. "You're wrong. Your conglomerate is like a bone in his throat," the guy argued. "Very well... Let's say there were a few tense moments between us. What about your bike? He's kind of unusual," Flora continued, not letting him get away. "Well... you know... I've upgraded it a bit," Cross explained awkwardly. "Maybe it's some kind of secret development," the girl decided. "That's how it is... So you're also an inventor. Don't you want to patent your invention?" She suggested. "No," the biker refused, grinning. The Martian bikes were radically different from their Earthly counterparts, equipped with a built-in onboard computer and weapons. "You know, could you take off your helmet?" It's not very convenient to talk to a person without looking into their eyes," Flora asked. "In the eyes... Wait... I'll be right there," he said, turning away, took something out of his jacket pocket and began to do some manipulations with the helmet without taking it off. "Now you can look me in the eye," Cross said, turning to her. Looking at him, the girl burst into a beautiful, ringing laugh. Cross had pasted two cartoonish black eyes on the visor, but they didn't seem to be aligned perfectly, as they appeared slightly slanted. "Do you like it? I have blue, green, and brown ones," Cross said, flipping through the stickers. "Of course I like it. You have very beautiful eyes," Flora replied with a laugh. "I'm glad you like it," he said, admiring her radiant smile and the playful sparkle in her eyes, which were the color of a calm sea. Cross often found himself thinking that he liked looking into her eyes, hearing the sound of her voice, and holding her in his arms. Throughout the day, his thoughts returned to her more and more often. Being around Flora felt as comfortable and easy as it did with no other Martian mouse. It was with her that his heart began to beat faster. "It's like I'm talking to an alien," the girl grinned. "what???"The guy started up. "With a very cute alien. And, at least, a good guy," Flora corrected, carefully looking into his improvised eyes. Her words made the biker feel uneasy, as he had essentially deceived her. By concealing his true identity, he had led Flora to believe that Cross was human. However, the fear of her being frightened by his true appearance overpowered any glimmer of conscience. "I can't even touch her," he thought sadly, looking at his hands, which were covered in thin leather gloves. "I'm glad you think so," he said, and for some reason, the words came hard for him. Flora looked at him warily, sensing a change in his mood, and placed her hand over his, smiling reassuringly. After spending some time by the river, they returned to the hotel. Cross stopped at the building from the balcony side. "Do you think we should return the same way, through the balcony?" the girl asked with a sinking heart. "Who knows what your bodyguard found out at the concierge? He sees you all the time when you come back from our night walk," Cross argued. "Yes, it might seem suspicious," she reluctantly agreed. They went up to the balcony as they had come down from it. The girl quietly looked into the empty hall, lingering a little on the balcony. "Good night, Flora," he said, preparing to leave the balcony. "Cross," the girl put her hand on his arm, stopping him. The biker looked at her. The girl came close to him and hugged him. "Thank you... thank you for everything," she said. Cross was taken aback for a moment, frozen in place, a small shiver running down his back, and he felt his fur stand on end. Remembering Vincent's advice to be bolder, he embraced her tightly in return, feeling her fragility and tenderness even through their clothes. "Don't mention it. I like being with you," Cross confessed. "Me too,"— Flora smiled. She reluctantly returned to the room, and he left the balcony. None of them suspected that an hour ago, Dr. Karbunkle had climbed up the wall of the hotel and installed surveillance cameras on the balcony. And at that moment, Limburger was watching their touching farewell. "Well, my patience is finally rewarded. Love is beautiful, but it will be your downfall, Miss Deloren," Limburger said, chuckling and rubbing his hands together.