Terminal Force

"DAMMIT!" I slammed on the brakes and fishtailed around some stupid kid, who jetted out in front of me on his skateboard. "Get a job!". He yelled some form of euphemism at me as I sped away. I turned my attention back to the idiot I was following. He was in a modified blue Camaro, 1990 model. We were both doing about 65 down some residential area. The Camaro slid around a corner just missing several people. I heard sirens in the distance. I noticed we had just passed a street called Farmdale. A cop car zipped in front of me. "Damn!". The blue Camaro skidded onto La Brea, the cop car behind him followed. I looked in my rear view mirror, two cops were behind me. An old rusted semblance of a car jumped in front of me. "Idiot! Get out of the way!" I swirled around it, "Get a car!"

The driver gave me the finger.

A cop car pulled up beside me. "PULL YOUR CAR OVER!" I stomped on the accelerated and steered around several more cars. The east on ramp to the Santa Monica Freeway came up. The Blue Camaro and cop car turned up it. I braked, turned on the ramp and accelerated. The two cop cars following me also turned on to it. I switched on my burglar alarm. My horn screamed and my lights flashed. We were doing about 85 miles per hour. I was thankful about the time. LA traffic had cleared up, and now I had a relatively empty path between me and the blue Camaro. Another old piece of junk jumped in my way. "God damn it! Doesn't California have a law about people driving trash on the road?" I passed the cop car in front of me, apparently they figured out who I was, or what I was. The driver slowed a bit and let me get behind the Camaro. I noticed several more flashing lights in the distance. The cop cars slowed and pulled off to the side letting the new flashing lights by. The Camaro turned off Normandie, missing several people and shot off down the road, I followed as best I could. Rounding the off ramp corner I noticed the words 'Highway Patrol' stenciled to side of the new comers. I counted seven black and whites behind me. The Camaro braked, spun around and zoomed passed me. I braked and spun, just missing a cop car. The Camaro braked again, turned a corner. I followed. He then sped passed a red light, skidding passed several would-be collisionists. I sped passed them also. This chase was beginning to piss me off. I stumped the accelerator again, drove up next to the car and slammed into him. He braked and crashed into a telephone pole. I was again thankful no one was hurt. He jumped out and ran. I skidded to a halt, opened the door, jumped and ran after him. He was quick, dodging in and around people. He turned a corner, I followed. I saw him run down what looked like an alley. As I turned the corner, I heard 'CLICK'. He must have a gun I told myself as I tucked and rolled passed the 'WHEAT' sound of a bullet. Pulling my Glock 20 out, I looked up. He was cornered behind a trashbin.

"Down your weapon!" I yelled.

He answered with two shots. The cop cars had skidded to a stop behind me. I could hear the dispatchers talking in the background as the doors opened and shut closed.

"Don't make me have to get you!"

Two more shots rang passed me, hitting a car door. I aimed and waited for him to pop out from the trashbin. He did and I fired. I knocked the gun out of his hand and rushed out to him. He reached for his gun as I closed in on him. I kicked and planted a foot in his face. He fell back, did a snap up and punched me in the stomach. I halved and lost my wind. As he punched me in the side I elbowed him in the neck. He grabbed for his throat, I punched him in the stomach and kneed him in the face. He landed back first on the ground with a deep sounding thud. I shook my head, clearing the haziness he gave me and looked down. We made eye contact. Dark blue eyes sparkled at me from square angled features. He looked European.

"Get up."

He just laid there. I made a fist and hit him in the face. "Then don't get up." I said as I collapsed beside him. I felt hands, strong hands grabbing at my arm pits. I was about to struggle when I heard, "Don't hit me, LAPD!" I looked up and over my shoulder. A beautiful face with brown eyes looked at mines. The face was firm and solid, it had a light tan to it.

"Ms. Bechard are you okay?"

"Yes." I said taking a deep breath. "How do you know my name?"

"Your license plate."

While we were talking several police officers walked up and arrested my prey.

"Deny him his phone call," I said, "By order of International Authority."

A cop shrugged and said "Whatever."

"I'll make sure Ms. Bechard."

"Karen."

"Karen." He extended his hand, "Jim Anderson." We shook. "How about dinner?" He asked.

I reached into my side pocket and gave him a hotel card. "May I borrow your pen?"

"He said, "Sure." Reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved a black pencil.

I wrote my name and room number on it. "Here, give me a call."

He took the card and his pencil.

"Call me at eight?"

"I will."

He smiled and I immediately felt horny. I got up and walked to my car. "Goddamn it!" I looked at the smashed fender. "Jesus Christ! I just finished paying for this car." I looked around to see if anyone heard me. Good, no one. I opened the car door and got in. 'What a rotten day.' A case I had been working on for months just ended in a high speed chase. The only good thing about this day was I would satisfy my hunger for sex and that Mr. Carter would be resting in jail until I decided to let him out.

I started the car up and turned the radio on. I listened to a song, it was about a woman reaching for the stars. As I drove off I told myself, "I've been there." and chuckled.