We won't be caught up

Location-Planet Earth __________ In a large, elegantly furnished office on the top floor of a skyscraper, a dull apathy reigned. Limburger turned on the TV with a bored expression, clearly not expecting to see anything interesting. A beautiful blonde appeared, broadcasting the latest news: "Very soon, a convoy from the Deloraine conglomerate with humanitarian supplies and equipment will arrive in Chicago." A column of huge trucks with the "DL" logo appeared on the screen. Lawrence grimaced in displeasure, as if he had eaten something sour. The phone rang. He picked up the phone. "Mr. Limburger, I have an interesting business proposition for you that will benefit both of us... " Lawrence's face broke into a malicious grin as the stranger spoke. "May I know who I'm talking to?" Lawrence said, clearly just for decency's sake. "Call me Mr. Twist. That's all you need to know, " the man on the other end of the phone said. "Well, Mr. Twist, that's an excellent suggestion. I agree. We're partners now, " he said, and pressed the call button. After a while, the door obediently slid open, and a very large man of indeterminate age in a gray jumpsuit and red baseball cap appeared in the doorway. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Limburger?" - he asked. "No, you idiot. But I have to, " Lawrence said irritably. "Look at this, my boy," he said, standing up from the table and pointing at the TV screen. "See those trucks? So, my dear Grease Pit, we must give our guests a warm welcome. And if Miss Deloraine were to have an accident, God forbid, I should not be very sorry. "Ah, got it. Invite a band and set off fireworks, " the bumpkin guessed. "Bomb the hell out of them!!! This column must not reach Chicago!!!" Limburger yelled, his face red with anger. "Uh, yes, boss." It'll be done, boss, " the Grease Pit said, and hurried out the door. "And don't screw it up this time!!! " Limburger called after him. "Who do you have to work with?" he sighed, sitting down in a chair in front of his desk with a resigned look, actively switching channels and finally settling on the program "The Amazing Life of deep-sea fish".

***

The biker mice ' hideout, which served as a much-repaired display board at the local stadium, was as bedlam as ever, as a result of the fact that they were once again playing a very active game of basketball. Charlie, not participating in the latest destruction of their hideout, tried to concentrate on watching the news. "It's good if our familiar shelter is included in the repair program. They say the mayor of Chicago himself will choose the objects, " she said to Throttle, who came up after the game. This time the building was not damaged, which was quite rare. "The question is different. Will this benefit Limburger? No, " he said. "I doubt it," Modo said, shaking his head. "Well, then, we'll have to meet our dear guests and make sure they make it to town," Throttle said. "Gas up, then, brothers," Vincent said, hopping into the seat of his Martian bike. Flora watched the changing landscape through the window of a black Cadillac that followed the security car leading the truck convoy. A fresh breeze blew in through the half-open window of the car, playing with her blond hair. The landscape was rather bleak, with small shops, gas stations, and roadside cafes interspersed with rolling plains and prairies overgrown with vegetation and sparse woodlands. The people they met watched the convoy of heavy trucks with interest. Some even waved their hands in greeting. "Ms. Deloraine, if your stay in Chicago is prolonged beyond the summer break, we will have to transfer you to distance learning,"an elderly woman was saying from her laptop screen. "All right, I'll let you know if I'm late," Flora said. "If you'd be so kind," the woman said, and the live tap went off. "Problems?" Walter asked, sitting next to her. "No, not yet," the girl said, and turned her gaze back to the car window. Suddenly, the first car started to slow down. There was a clatter of hammers and bumpers ahead. One of the guards got out of the first car and approached the fence and the workers. A large man in gray coveralls and an orange work helmet over a red baseball cap approached him. "Go around. Here come these... invalid banknotes... uh-uh... disgusting nerds... construction work... Here, " the big guy finally said, scratching his head as seriously as possible. Apparently, this will speed up the process of finding the right word. The guard looked around. This was the only road for many miles ahead. "Don't get out of the car," Walter said to Flora, flipping the safety off and twisting the bolt. Then he got out of the car. " What is it?" he asked his colleague. He silently pointed to the broken road ahead. Walter looked around. A deserted road for miles. There are only sparsely wooded hills around. However, the uneasy feeling did not leave the man. And most of all, he was alerted by the fact that the workers did not have heavy special equipment, but only strange vehicles. "Back up!" he ordered the bodyguard. And in the next second, they opened fire on them. The guy managed to hide behind the nearest car. Quad bikes and jeeps were coming down the hills from different directions. The men in them were firing in all directions, firing aimlessly, mostly at the trucks, apparently hoping to damage their contents. They were joined by those who were breaking up the road. The guards took up defensive positions and began actively firing back. "Down!" Walter commanded the girl. She silently lay down on the bottom of the car and covered her head with her hands, not asking any questions. As she lay with her eyes closed, all she could hear was the sound of bullets hitting the armored car window. But then suddenly, from somewhere behind them, I heard the roar of an engine, and three bikers appeared. "The cavalry has arrived! " One of them shouted loudly, and rockets flew at the attackers ' ATVs and jeeps. Their stories were different from the usual ones and, as it turned out, were stuffed with all sorts of weapons. There were explosions, gunshots, and people shouting. After a brief firefight, the remaining thugs, led by Smudge-Eater, were forced to retreat. However, the guards met their rescuers with hostility, pointing their weapons at them. "Hey, we're actually all for you," Vincent said, annoyed at this injustice. "We don't know that," Walter snapped, not taking his eyes off the man and not lowering his weapon. "Hey, okay, okay. Don't get too excited, guys. We're leaving, " Throttle said, and they were forced to leave. "The devil knows what!!!" Vincent was indignant when they were a good distance away. "So help people after that," Modo added grimly. "You can understand them, too. Everyone looks like an enemy in this situation, " Throttle reassured his friends as he drove away down the highway. After inspecting the trucks and their contents, which fortunately were not damaged, making the necessary replacement of the bullet-riddled tires and treating the wounded, the convoy set off again three hours later. The girl all the way remembered what was happening and wondered who had managed to cross the road before even reaching her destination. Meanwhile, Charlie was hosting guests at the Last Chance Garage, hugging Rimfire and Carabine, making no secret of how much she missed them. Cross hopped down from the "Thunderbike's" ramp with a nonchalant expression, adjusting the strap of his electric guitar. "Who's that?" Charlie asked when she saw the stranger. "This is my personal mechanic, Cross. I think you could use an assistant, " Carabina said, smiling. "He's my best friend," the Patron said. The man looked at him as if he didn't need any advertising. "Cross, this is Charlie," the mouse said, introducing them. "Well, welcome to Chicago, co — worker," Charlie said, holding out her hand to shake his. "Very nice to meet you, Miss Charlene. I've heard a lot about you, " he said. "Well, wow. A mechanic with the manners of a prince. You can go to a less formal site. You're also a musician, " Charlie remarked, eyeing the boy and his instrument, finding it rather attractive. "In my spare time," he said, grinning sheepishly, not used to such attention. Just then, three bikers pulled up. There were more happy hugs and short greetings. "This is the one you've been telling me all about," Modo said, turning his attention to the tall, well-proportioned guy standing alone, who looked bored by the way he scowled. "Yes, that's Cross," the Patron said, coming up to him. The mice shook hands firmly. "Friend Rimfaire is my friend," Modo said, and introduced him to the other brothers. "That's out of the question... How angry I am. Wow, I'm so angry, " Vincent said, still thinking about the incident on the road. "Something's up," Charlie guessed, looking at the mice excitedly. "What happened? Yes, it happened. We saved their skins, and they turned their guns on us. So much for gratitude, " Vincent continued in the same vein. "I'm starting up," Throttle said softly. "Too bad the battery won't run out," Modo said. The boys exchanged knowing glances, grinning. "Calm down, Vinnie. People were on edge. Well, it doesn't happen to anyone, " Charlie tried to reassure him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He visibly relaxed and looked at her affectionately. "Okay, I'm fine, dolly," he finally said calmly, putting his arm around Charlie's waist. "I hope Miss Deloraine isn't hurt," Charlie said anxiously. "We haven't been able to find out... Or rather, we weren't allowed to find out, " Throttle said. "I see your fun has already begun," Carabine said. "Yes, you've arrived just in time," Throttle said, giving the Carbine and Cartridge a quick update. Watching all this, Cross only sighed sadly, hoping that he wouldn't regret coming to Earth. Standing at the open garage door, he looked up at the night sky, a scattering of stars. They seemed to be the same as the ones seen from Mars, but they looked somehow different. He realized that he was already homesick. Trucks were poisoned in the parking lot. The wounded were taken to the hospital in the late afternoon. The police got involved. The Cadillac drove slowly through the city. Chicago was beginning to live a night life. The girl looked at the windows of shops, salons, and night clubs lit up with lights. And she thought that if it hadn't been for her parents ' deaths, she too would have been hanging out in some nightclub with friends, only now realizing how much her life had been turned upside down and what it could have been like. Soon the car slid smoothly into a small courtyard of a building with a low facade and a decent height, the main part of the building is made of gray and dark brown stone. In front of him was a low fountain with many flower beds surrounding it. Flowers on small balconies and windowsills, a blue canopy over the windows created an atmosphere of comfort. "Astoria Hotel," read the sign on the pillar in front of the hotel's entrance. A large man in a purple suit was standing in front of the narrow glass doors. "Welcome to Chicago, Miss Deloraine," he said ingratiatingly as Flora drew level with him. Her arrival was no secret, and she made no secret of it herself. "Mr. Limburger," the girl said, wondering if she was expecting the mayor or one of his assistants. Lawrence Lactavius Limburger, a local tycoon, billionaire and head of Limburger Industries, the world's largest industrial company, was hard to miss. His fame ran ahead of him and was often dubious. "I would like to pay my respects to you personally, my dear, and welcome you to our glorious city. You are truly doing a great job!" Lawrence began his tirade of praise. "But apparently, not everyone likes it in your city. I'm sorry, my people and I need to get some rest from the road, " Flora said, and went through the glass doors of the hotel. "Sure, sure, get some rest," Limburger said ingratiatingly, his face contorted into an angry grimace as the men entered the building. "Damn you all! he swore, either at the careless assistants led by the Grease Pit, or at the uninvited guests. After security checked her room, which was spacious enough and decorated in brown and cream tones, she chose to shower, have dinner, and go to bed. It wasn't until she was out of the bathroom and in bed that she realized how tired she was. Today's events had taken her back to the distant past, which she wanted to forget like the worst of her nightmares.

***

The girl liked to sit in the car by the window next to her parents. When the car in which she was traveling stopped at the intersection at a red light, she looked with interest at the nearby cars and drivers in them. There was a car nearby with an interesting upgrade in the form of a dog with long ears. A cheerful children's song was playing from the salon. The girl smiled as she looked at her and the driver in the matching suit. Then a motorcyclist pulled up to the car and blocked her view. He didn't turn off the engine. The biker turned his head towards the car in which she was sitting, as if sensing her gaze, and the girl clearly saw her reflection in the visor of his helmet.