We won't be caught up

The setting is planet Earth, the city of Chicago ________________________________________ He woke up with a terrible headache and an equally severe body aches, realizing that he had been severely beaten. Cross immediately realized that his unconscious body had been well-pressed. After all, it was much safer to beat an enemy who was also unconscious. He tried to straighten his back and realized that he was sitting on a chair with his hands tied behind his back. Mouse looked around. It was a dimly lit, rather large, half-empty utility room with two doors and no windows, possibly located underground. The stream of icy water finally brought him to his senses, and he looked around, seeing painfully familiar faces nearby. "Wake up and sing, Sleeping Beauty," the Grease Pit chuckled. "My boy, who treats guests like this? I hope our guest is comfortable?" Limburger asked Cross. "What do you want from me, you stinking ham?" Cross asked. "From you, well, almost nothing. You're just a method of influencing our benefactress, damn her. I think she'll run as fast as she can to save you and, of course, fall into my trap," Limburger said with undisguised malice. "You bastard, if even a hair falls from Flora's head, I'll tear you to pieces," Cross said, his purple eyes flashing angrily. "It's not in your position, you damned rodent, to make conditions for me," Limburger said and slapped him across the face. Blood quickly filled his mouth, and he had to spit it on the floor. Limburger grabbed him roughly by the hair and forced him to look at himself. "Please tell me. Why is it that no matter how much I've watched you, I've never seen you without a helmet? You came to the balcony of her room and left it without taking it off. She even kissed the thing once. Wouldn't it be more appropriate to kiss you instead of a piece of plastic?" Limburger mused aloud as he picked up his motorcycle helmet, which was lying on the floor nearby, and looked at his reflection in the visor's mirror surface. He stared at it for a long time, and a sly smile crossed his face as an idea occurred to him. "Flora Deloren is a public figure. Her personal life is constantly under the scrutiny of hidden cameras. She wouldn't risk her reputation by associating with an alien. But you saw her almost every day. Therefore, it's safe to assume that you never took off your helmet in front of her. She doesn't know what you look like. She doesn't know that you're not human," said the Plutarkian, putting the helmet back on him. "Well, my boys, I hope you'll entertain our guest well enough until the guest of honor arrives," Limburger said maliciously, and Cross realized that he was about to be pressured again. To confirm his guess, one of Grease Pit's thugs approached him, abruptly removed his helmet, and roughly grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to raise his head. In the next moment, he received a significant blow to the face and solar plexus. This caused him to expel air from his lungs with a loud noise and clench his jaw, trying to suppress his pain and prevent himself from losing consciousness as he received more and more blows. The question of whether he would survive until Flora arrived remained unanswered. In any case, he had a premonition of an impending catastrophe that he could not prevent.

* * *

When the Rimfire woke up in the morning, he did not find Cross in the shelter. His hammock was empty. "He's been out in the garage again at the crack of dawn, or he spent the night there again," he thought, reluctantly getting out of bed. When he arrived at the garage, he did not find his friend there. When asked by Charlie if Cross had spent the night here, the girl replied that she had not seen him. "Where could he have gone?" the mouse thought in annoyance, although his friend might have gone on some business of his own, annoyed that Cross was doing something without him.

* * *

Flora returned to her room, as always, for lunch, after giving another interview and getting back to her work. The renovations at the sites were progressing at an accelerated pace, and they were meeting both the deadlines and the allocated budgets, which was a source of great satisfaction for Miss Deloren. It was an opportunity for her to prove herself as a skilled professional in her future career. As she was finishing her lunch with Walter, the phone rang in her room. The bodyguard left her room, as the business discussions were clearly not for his ears. "Hello, Miss Deloren," she recognized the tycoon's voice. "Mr. Limburger," the girl replied. "Let me take you out to dinner tonight," Limburger said. "I'm sorry, but I have to refuse," she replied. "Let me ask you the reason for your refusal," Limburger said. "Illegal land seizures, kidnappings, illegal dispossession of property, production of counterfeit banknotes, looting of the diamond fund. Have I missed anything? The appearance in your society seriously damage the reputation of my company," replied Flora. "It's all the evil slander of envious and competitors," the Plutarkian justified himself. "Nevertheless, I just don't have time for it," replied the girl. "It's a pity," the tycoon said regretfully, "because a nice young man will be very upset if you don't accept my invitation. He might be so upset that he won't survive the night. His name is Cross, I think, your biker friend." Flora fell silent, frozen with fright. Her heart contracted painfully. She turned pale. How could Limburger know about Cross? A whirlwind of speculation raced through her mind. A sense of foreboding gripped her. "Do you mean to say that you have a Cross?" she asked directly, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. "My dear, agree to a meeting with me, and you will find out everything. Your Romeo has prepared a surprise for you that will definitely amaze you. And remember, neither the police nor the reporters... No one can know about our meeting. You have to come alone. I don't want to break the intimacy of the moment," Limburger continued in a soft tone. "Where and when?" asked Flora. Limburger gave the restaurant and the time. "What should I do?" she thought anxiously. Even if we assume that Limburger was lying, how does he know about the existence of the Cross? What if he's not bluffing after all and Cross is in danger? And now it seemed to her that Limburger was really behind her abduction. She left her room and knocked on Walter's door a few minutes later. He opened the room, and when he saw the girl, his eyes filled with concern. Flora told him about Limburger's call and his demand. "It's not possible, I won't let you take that risk," the bodyguard said decisively. "Walter, if I don't come, Cross will be killed... I've never asked you for anything, but now I'm asking you, please help me," she begged, and drops of tears lingered on her eyelashes. "I hope this guy is worth the sacrifice." If it's not worth it, I'll personally rip his legs out," Walter conceded. An hour before the appointed time, Flora changed her clothes. Walter had planted tracking bugs in her clothes and a microphone in her earrings. If she was in danger, she would say the code word "Mars," and her bodyguard and his team, who would be secretly following her, would arrive at her location.

* * *

Evening was beginning to fall, and the fact that Cross had not yet appeared either in the garage or in the shelter alerted the Rimfire. He told Uncle Modo about his concerns. "He's going somewhere with his beautiful girlfriend," Vincent waved off. "Cross always helped me in the garage during the day. I agree with the Rimfire, there's something wrong here," Charlie replied. "Let's go for a ride," Carbine said to Rimfire, and they left the garage. The young mouse had a rough idea of the route his friend took to get to the hotel. They drove slowly along the highway, looking around, but when they reached the city, they found nothing: neither Cross nor his bike. "Where are you, Cross?" the Rimfire thought anxiously, peering into the distance. As if that would help in any way. Only on the way back, when it was completely dark, the headlights of the Rimfire's bike picked out an object near the curb. Stopping by it and coming closer, he saw a case with a damaged guitar that belonged to Cross. He called Carbine over and showed her what he had found. "I don't think he just dropped it." "Besides, she's broken," the mouse said. "It's clear now that Cross is in trouble," the Rimfire said. "And I know who to take by the scruff," Carbine said, her light brown eyes flashing angrily. A few hours later, the team of biker mice was on their way to the Limburger Industries skyscraper. Shortly after, they burst into Carbuncle's laboratory with a series of gunshots and explosions, as Limburger and Grease Pit were nowhere to be found. The mad scientist was about to experience firsthand what it was like to be the victim of a violent interrogation. After finding out where his boss and his sidekick were, the Martians left the building, or what was left of it.

* * *

Trying to remain calm and cool-headed, Flora showed up for the meeting. The restaurant was empty. There was no one but Limburger and the musicians who were playing classical music. "I'm just happy to see you, my dear," he said and, taking her hand, bent down to kiss it. The girl abruptly pulled it away, and Limburger kissed his own. "Where's Cross?" the girl demanded. "Well, why hurry so much? Have dinner with me. It's not for nothing that I tried so hard and rented an entire restaurant room," he waved his hand around the room and, taking her by the hand, led her to the set table. According to the exquisite menu, the girl realized that the tycoon did not eat fish and fish products.