"Hey Juan, did you hear the word? Memphis signed up to make the Run!" exclaimed Slats.

"Man, that dizzy broad got no business doing that. She got no chance at all of making it," he replied. "Where chew hear that?"

"I was over at Spike's and there it was. Man, a real bitching car. The way it's armed and armored it couldn't be nothing but a Runner. It was blue, I mean it was BLUE! And in small gold letters it said 'Driver - Memphis Belle'. When I asked Spike he just growled like he always do and went on stoking in the ammo. But it's hers, Manno. She's been working on a car all winter and this has to be it."

News was soon all over the Barrio. One of their own was attempting to make The Run. The crowd was so thick at Spike's Garage that he had two armed guards standing by keeping all the gawkers away. Out of the office of the garage walked a blond female. She was about 5 foot 7 and probably weighted in between 115 and 120. Her hair was cut short and was in tight curls that hugged her head. She was dressed in faded blue Levi's, a blue work shirt and boots. She had a blue leather jacket hooked on one shoulder and was pulling on a short set of driving gloves. She was talking with Spike as she approached the car and was heard to say "I'll see you tomorrow morning at the start line." That's when she looked up and saw the crowd. They had all fallen quiet when she had appeared. She smiled and waved to them and then got into the Electric Blue car.

The car was so heavily modified that you couldn't tell what make it had started out as. It had been chopped and heavy armor panels had been added to the sides and across the rear. There were bubbles around the fenders protecting the tires and the windows were so heavily smoked you couldn't see inside. There was a nose bra on the hood so you couldn't see what the front looked like and there was some kind of covering across the rear also. From what little could be seen the tires were about a foot across with very deep tread. The engine started with the first try and had a very deep throated rumble that made your balls tingle just to hear it.

This was a Runner!

She dropped it into gear and slowly drove it back into the garage bay and shut it off. When she got out of the car she looked at Spike and said, "Don't let anyone touch it. It's now set up the way we wanted it and it's ready. Anyone touches it, shoot'em!" She then looked back at the crowd to make sure they had heard what she said.

"Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen. It is 6:30 and as you can see the sun is already up. It looks like nearly all of the cars and drivers are here for this year's Big Run. As you all know there are only fifty entries allowed each year. Any contestant who has attempted the run must wait five years before they are qualified for another attempt. This year we have two females who have made the field. Jean Smith, a wife and mother of three from Sacramento and The Memphis Belle. Sorry but that's how the entry form is made out and that's all we know at this time. She's from right here in San Diego. As the race progresses we'll be telling you more about the contestants and their vehicles. We will now switch you to Jerry Peterson who is with Mark Miller the Chairman of this year's race. Jerry."

"Thank you Ray Bennett. Folks as Ray has told you we have Mr. Mark Miller this year's Chairman with us and Mark will you tell us something about the rules and procedure for the race?"

"Well Jerry, as you know the rules are very simple. The first one to cross the border into Oregon wins. We have a pit stop just north of Bakersfield which is mandatory, an overnight stay at Merced which is the half way point and a mandatory pit stop at Red Bluff. There are marker flags two miles this side of each of the stops and a mile the other side of the stops. That three mile area is considered a safe zone and any driver who violates the safe zone will be automatically Black Flagged. They will be out of the race. In addition they are disqualified from ever entering future races. Not only do the contestants have each other to watch out for but there are street gangs along the way that like to try and take part. Word is that they each have their own favorites that they will be trying to help."

"The Prize is, as you know, the right to live anywhere they want within the United States with a clean slate. Reinstatement of their citizenship! This prize is awarded not only to the driver but to his or I guess this year, to HER crew. There are jobs waiting, schooling if they desire as well as all the other things that go along with an opportunity such as this. This will be a very hotly contested race. The Rap Sheet on several of the contestants reads like the Who's Who of Crime. This is one of the few 'legal' ways to get out of California and this year some big names are making their bid to be the winner."

"Thank you Mark Miller. It is nearly time for the start of the race so this is Jerry Peterson returning you to the main booth. Are you there Ray?"

"This is Ray Bennett again, all set to give you the start of this year's Run for Freedom. A couple of things that Mark failed to mention is that there is also a safe zone here in Balboa Park and for the first mile outside the Park in all directions and there is NO designated course. Any road, street or cow path that the contestant wishes to use to get to Bakersfield is ok. Most of the contestants use the old freeway system simply because they're usually the fastest however which freeway is up to them."

Down in the pit area the drivers were going over some last instructions, advice and plans with the crew chiefs. Spike was telling Memphis to hang back. "Let the others blow themselves away and cause problems for each other. Your goal is to be in the race at the end. Doll, just be in the top twenty when you reach Merced and you'll be doing just right. Most of the action will be in the Tehatchapis and the Grapevine sections with the next stretch along Highway 99 between Bakersfield and Merced. The gang action will be from here to the mountains and then along 99 around all the little towns and cities there. We went over all that and you're ready for it, so get it done." He slapped the top of the car and walked away.

Up in front the long arm of a 'cherry picker' had been extended out over the road. In the basket was a man holding a checkered flag. He was very tensely looking at his watch. As the time approached he slowly raised the flag and then suddenly dropped it in a waving flourish.

The Race had begun!

Immediately cars took off in all directions. Some jumping on I-5 right in the Park and going straight north for the border. Some jumped on California 163, while others started south on I-5 for the Cal 34 interchange. Both of the females headed north on 163.

"Ladies and Gentlemen you are seeing live the scene of our first contestant out of the race. That is I-5 just south of Washington where a sniper has taken out one of those favored to win the race. Gang Boss Louie Bankis had just made it out of the 'safe' zone when someone took out his vehicle. As you can see by the smoke and fire it would appear that they used something a little more potent than a mere rifle. Looks more like a Grenade launcher or possibly a missile of some kind. We will have more for you later."

"Spike, this is Memphis. How do you read me? Give me a report on our route. Over."

"Doll, you are coming in clear. So far there's no excitement on the route we talked over. I had some of the boys check it over earlier and they're making sure that you have a clean pass through now. I am leaving for the airport so I'll be out of touch for a while. Keep your speed up when you can but remember the trick is to finish, not be the first one into Bakersfield. Out for now."

Memphis squirmed in her seat trying to get settled. She was still excited from the start and the adrenalin was just starting to wear off. She scanned her instrument panel again just to be safe. Everything was in the green and there were no squawks on any of her sensors. With the guys running blocker ahead of her a lot of the problems that she and Spike had anticipated were not coming to pass. Now the problem was simply to drive as fast as she could on the roads she had chosen. On the big superslab with no traffic she was only loafing now. Her tach was only hitting five grand which worked out to a little over one twenty. For this machine that was poking along. She had to be in the running at Merced. In the top five at Red Bluff and then she would unleash ALL the horses this beast had.

163 had now merged with I-15 North and she began to see a few of her competitors. Few vehicles were on the road except Runners. Those who were not competitors were living dangerously by being out here. Some were forced off the road while others were being used to force the competition off the road or to slow it down. Memphis slowed down and did not contest any space at this time. It would not do to be forced out of the race within the first fifty miles. She could still hear Spike's voice droning in her ear.

Many of the contestants had gone up I-5 right from the start while others would cut over on US 78. Others would stay with I-15 until it hit 91, then 71 up to 210 and stay with it to I-5 just south of Newhall. That would work them around much of the LA congestion and the ever present street gangs. The roads should be clearer and they should make better time. With Bakersfield the first designated stop most of the racers would use the route over the grapevine. This was fine with her as it would mean fewer people she would have to contend with on her chosen route.

An hour into the race and she was leaving San Bernardino. She had only seen one other racer since she had taken the I-15E/I-215 turnoff from I-15. This was a longer route and the street gangs would not be expecting a racer to go that way. At least that was the thinking of she and Spike. The bright blue racer seemed to be a total surprise when she came blasting through Riverside and into and out of San Bernardino. Now came the tricky part. She was looking for her next turn. The roads were not marked as well now as they had been years ago before California became the United States Penal State.

She spotted it up ahead and down shifted to fourth and then to third. Just shy of the Cajon Pass she turned off onto 138. She was still going a bit fast but the racer hung on as if it were on rails. If she could just maintain her speed Palmdale was only a half hour ahead.

"Hey, Doll. You down there? This is Spike and we're just north of LA proper. Should be there in plenty of time to check over the car. Eight of the racers are out of the race so far. Any problems on your end. Over."

"Spike, the only problem I have is it's hot in here. We didn't allow enough ventilation for cooling inside. Other than that we're humming along. I'm coming up on Point Four and should make that change soon. See you in Bakersfield in an hour. Over."

"Slow down for that damn mountain. I told you the plan is to be in the top twenty at Merced not at Bakersfield. Some of those curves in the mountain are bad and that road hasn't had proper repairs on it in years. Take it easy through that section and you should be fine. Out."

Palmdale came up just after she had signed off with Spike and she made the turn due North on US 14. It was now a straight shot for Mojave and then into the mountains. With no sign of traffic she opened up more until the big sweep hand on the tach was reading six grand, right at one forty-five. This was where she made up time for the slower part of the mountains.

Fifteen minutes after the turn at Palmdale and she was in Mojave and onto US 58. The Tehachapi Pass and mountains were what was going to slow her down. It was a little over sixty miles to Bakersfield from here and she wanted to make it is forty minutes. This was the bad stretch.

Until now there had been little more than brute horsepower. The way her racer was set up she had the power now it was time to see if she had the handling that she had been working for. Soon she was playing a tune on the gearbox. Third, fourth, back to third once in a while to second and then back up again. Back and forth she went keeping the power curve up while zipping in and out of the curves in the road. Two times she had problems and both times they were not man made. As she was coming out of a curve and starting to accelerate there was rubble from a slide in the road which made her rear end lose traction and threw her into a slide. She was able to straighten that out and continue on but soon she was on the second. This time several large boulders were blocking the road. She saw them in enough time to stop before hitting them. Moving slowly up to one she used the big solid steel bumper to push it out of the way. It only took a couple of minutes to get through the roadblock but the clock on the dash was continuing to tick and the elapsed time was building up. The gauge beside it was showing the average speed for the miles traveled and the time that had elapsed and this was going down. Soon she was working her way back up to speed and was in the clear. Now just a straight run for the stop up ahead. Actually it was not in Bakersfield but in Oildale just northwest of town. An old airfield had been taken over for the race and was being used as the pit area.

When she pulled into the pit area it had taken her two hours and twenty-eight minutes to cover the two hundred and eighty something miles. That made her average speed around one twenty. On the next leg this would need to improve if she was to be in the running.

Spike was waiting for her and immediately began to fill the oversized tank with fuel. While he was doing that Memphis dropped the window to allow any breeze around to cool off the interior of the vehicle some. When he finished that he popped the hood and checked the oil and water. In just moments he was again closing and strapping down the hood. Next he shoved several bottles of liquid into the vehicle with her and pounded on the roof.

"You need to do it in less than an hour and a half. I probably won't be there when you arrive but will be there a short time later. They took out another ten over the mountains so there are just thirty-two of you still in the race. There are a lot of little towns up through here remember. We don't have any help in this area so you're on your own. Heads up all the way. Now GO!"

With that she pulled over to the course marshall and had her entry form stamped with her out time and again hit the road. By the time she hit the one mile flags she was back up to one twenty and still climbing. The tach was soon indicating a little more than sixty-five hundred revs. Some where around one sixty. She still had power but now was the time to conserve not waste the reserve she had. Spike had not informed her as to the number ahead of her, just the number that were no longer in the race. Was she the last, in the middle or in the lead? All he said was make it in less than an hour and a half. If she encountered no problems at this speed she would make it well under that time. But this was a race so there would be problems. The prize was too big not to have problems.

Just before Visalia one of her sensors chirped at her. There was no rear glass on the vehicle. In fact there was very little glass anywhere. The windshield had been chopped down until there was a six inch high, four foot wide section that was also five inches thick. The window on each side was about the same height and only eighteen inches wide. Glass was a weak point that a competitor could attack. Motion sensors covered the rear. Something was coming up on her from the rear. Any thing that stayed in the sensor for more than three seconds was reported. She hit the camera and zoomed as much as she could. It was a racer and it was slowly overhauling her. Now was the time to use some of the reserve so she slowly accelerated. Soon her tach was crawling up closer to seven grand and the racer behind her was no longer coming up on her. She kept the speed there. She was not trying to outrun the other driver she just didn't want him to overtake her. If he got close then his weapons could come into play and things would get dicey. Now was not the time. Tomorrow would be time enough for that to take place.

She muted the sensor which had continued to chirp and kept the camera centered on the racer behind her. She could not afford to forget that there were thirty more racers out there somewhere and all of them would like to make sure that she didn't finish ahead of them. Goshen had come and gone and Kingsburg was just ahead. As she passed under one of the overcrossings she spotted a racer pulled off the side of the road. The rear of his vehicle had been drastically modified. It looked like either a missile or a large cannon had hit the rear of his vehicle. By the time she reached Fresno she had passed four more vehicles pulled to the side of the road. Twenty-seven, only twenty-seven racers still in the race and the half way point not reached yet. "Doll, you down there still? This is Spike and I am just passing Fresno. Over."

"Look down ya big goofball. So am I. I got one on my tail but he's far enough behind that I don't think he's dangerous. How's the race going? Over."

"You and the Smith broad are the big surprises. She's been dicing it up with several of them. She has already taken out two and slowed down three more. She took some damage so she had a longer pit stop than you did. One thing, she's been racing and only fighting when they brought it to her. Being a female I guess they thought it would be easy. Well for five of them it wasn't. She is behind you but keep your eyes peeled. When she comes she will be moving. I don't know what she has as a power plant but that mill is hot with a Capital H."

"Hey, there you are. We're just passing you now. You aren't wasting any time yourself. What do you have her on? Over."

"She's reading seventy-two right now. I think the one behind me has fallen off a bit so I have slowly been backing off. Don't want to stretch my legs too much now. Need to save something for tomorrow. How many still in the race? Over."

"There are only twenty-three left. There are twelve racers ahead of you and ten behind you. You are sitting just in the right place. You're still in contention and you're letting the others knock each other out. That's Madera you just went through if you didn't know. You are less than fifty miles to the overnighter. You can rest then but for now stay alert. In fact I think you should open her up a bit more. There're two coming up behind your tail-ender and things could get interesting. You don't want to be around if that happens. We have to go on and try to beat you to the pit area. See you in a bit and keep your head moving. Out."

Again the speed slowly increased. With a mill as powerful as this you didn't want to make any fast demands on it if possible. Build up slowly and keep everything tight. In the monitor she could see the racer behind her increase speed also but he was staying about the same distance behind her. She could also see that he was having some difficulties as there was a lot of smoke back there. Berenda was behind and Fairmead just ahead when she picked up a flash on the monitor. It looked like the racer behind her was enveloped in flames. It swerved several times from side to side and then flipped over. The two cars behind it were so close that one of them hit the car while it was still flipping and put itself out of the race also.

Her speed was still increasing, the tach now at seventy-eight hundred. Nearly one ninety. There was a little more left but not much. The racer behind her was still moving up. Not fast but still overtaking her. Chowchilla and then several minutes later Lingard. Just on the outskirts of Merced the vehicle behind her was riding in the kill slot. Reaching over Memphis threw two switches and hit the brakes. She hit them hard and braced herself. From the rear of her racer two things happened. A long steel lance over six feet long extended from the trunk and a drag 'chute deployed. The 'chute and the brakes slowed her down drastically while the steel lance impaled the vehicle behind her when it slammed into the rear of her vehicle. Throwing the two switches again she pushed the accelerator to the floor. Now was not the time for easing into the speed. She needed to get away from him as soon as possible. The lance retracted and the drag 'chute was released enveloping the hood and windshield of the trailing vehicle. As she pulled away she heard and felt several bullets hit the rear of her vehicle as the driver opened up on her finally. It was blind shooting as the 'chute covered his windshield and he couldn't see. A couple of miles ahead and she hit the flags. The safe zone. She backed off and let the car unwind and slow down.

The pit area was clearly marked and when she pulled into the entrance she handed her form to the marshall to be stamped. She had covered the one hundred and sixty-five miles in sixty-one minutes. 'That's under the hour and a half he wanted,' she thought. She pulled her racer forward to the building set aside for her and pulled it into the bay. She shut the engine off and just sat there unwinding herself. Slowly she released the seat harness and flexed her shoulders. She then turned to the door and cranked the large control wheel which slid back the large steel bolts allowing the door to be opened. Only after she had stepped out did she remove her helmet and gloves. Running her fingers through her hair she began to feel more human. Walking back she hit the trip switch which closed the large doors and hit the fans to get some air circulating through the large bay. Taking a bottle of water from the cooler she was drinking some of it when someone began to bang on the door.

"Doll, open up. It's Spike. Jerry and Moe are here also."

Opening the personnel door she let the three men inside. Moe immediately turned back and blocked anyone else from entering. In front of him were two camera crews with their announcers wanting in to do interviews. Moe didn't let anyone enter.

"Doll, that was Toshi Nimura you took out near Lingard. He is pisseder than pissed at you right now. He had taken out six racer so far and his wing man had taken out five when he piled into the last one he took out. Counting the wing man that is an even dozen out right there and then you took him out. You are now ninth. You passed four out of the race that you probably didn't see. There are only fifteen racers left in the field and the Smith woman is one of them. You two females have outlasted thirty-five of us big, rough, tough hemales. I told you size didn't matter in a race. It was skill, brains and a good machine. We built the good machine and the good Lord took care of the brains and you developed the skills. Go flake out for a while and let us look over the wheels and see what damage you've taken. Also time to switch to Plan B. I think that will fool them."

Spike, Jerry and Moe worked on the racer for the better part of the afternoon. They changed the oil, pressurized the cooling system to check for leaks and then changed all the coolant. They drilled some holes in the body to get some air into the cockpit to keep Memphis a bit cooler and put in and lashed down a cooler so she could take some water and other chilled liquids with her. They also changed the tires all around and checked the rear end for any damage she might have taken when Nimura fired on her. They also double checked the armor in and around the fuel tanks to make sure that she had taken no damage there nor had shaken anything loose during the rough trip through the mountains. Lastly they changed the rear ratio by putting in a slightly larger gear. She would have longer legs now but would not be as fast out of the hole. Today's drive had needed the up and down in the mountains. Tomorrow would be a straight shot up 99, the cross over in Sacramento to I-5 and then straight up it to the border. Speed with only a few curves. None of them to really slow down for until she hit the Siskiyous between Yreka and Henley. The curves in the Siskiyous would not be fast in and out so they also tightened the suspension down from what it had been.

Late afternoon Moe left and returned a short while later with a pickup truck. Spike opened the garage area door to allow him inside. There were still several people milling around outside wanting to talk to Memphis about the race. After they had closed and locked the door Moe opened a large chest in the bed of the truck and out stepped a female who looked a lot like Memphis. She had short blond curly hair, wearing tight blue jeans and a blue leather jacket. She was even the right height. From close up it was easy to tell they were different people but the news hounds outside didn't know Memphis and hopefully would take this female for her.

When Memphis came out of the back room she did not look anything like herself. She now had straight black hair and a black mustache. Her clothes had been changed and she now wore dirty coveralls like she had been working on the car. Padding had also been added to give her a burly, masculine look and to disguise her very feminine chest. With shades and a ball cap she would look like one of the guys.

She waved to the imitation her and said, "Thanks 'Nita. With they chasing you they may leave us alone and I can get some rest. Have fun."

'Nita and Moe got into the cab of the pickup while Memphis opened the large door. As soon as it was up Moe started to back out. The crowd milling around the front started to try to speak to 'Memphis' and to interview her. While they were chasing after Moe, Spike, Jerry and Memphis closed and locked the door. They notified the marshall that no one else was to enter the garage until Jerry returned and then they left. So far everyone was chasing after Moe and the fake Memphis and leaving them alone. They climbed into another pickup and drove to the motel where all the crews were staying.

Moe and 'Memphis' were to share a room and Spike and 'Juan' were to share a room while Jerry returned to the garage and slept with the car.

After checking in they went into the dining room to eat. The food was set up on steam tables and you just helped yourself. The three of them served up plates and took over a table in the corner and sat eating. They had not been there long when they were joined by another man. He was dressed in jeans and a denim work shirt. He spoke to Spike and called him by name.

"Spike, I thought you got out of this racing business years ago? What ever induced you to come back?" the stranger asked.

"What are you doing here Phil? I know you're not racing still," Spike asked, ignoring the questions.

"I'm now a color commentator for the race. Because I knew many racers and their crew chiefs I thought I might pick up some information by talking with them. I'm dressed this way to blend in more and not be noticed." Looking straight at 'Juan' he said, "That was a good trick you pulled, Miss Belle. Both the switch just now and the one on Nimura earlier. Don't worry I won't give you away. Spike and I go back a long ways and he will tell you that off the track I can be trusted."

Spike shook his head and then nodded in agreement.

"Miss Belle, I have a pocket recorder in my shirt pocket. May I turn it on and talk to you about the race? If you say no, that's it, I won't."

Memphis looked at Spike who again nodded. She looked at the stranger and nodded also.

The stranger reached into his shirt pocket and turned on the recorder but left it there. "This is Phil Neighbors with an exclusive interview with one of the real surprises in this race. Miss Memphis Belle of San Diego. Miss Belle that is the sum total of what is known about you to this point. Could you tell us a little about yourself, where you come from, how you got into this race and so on?"

"Unlike most people, I was born here in California. I am one of the few 'free' citizens here. My Dad worked in one of the aviation plants in the south of the state and when this all changed we stayed. I still don't know why but I was too young to have any say in the matter. Dad did minor league racing and having no son to pass on his love of speed so he passed it on to me instead," she answered quietly.

"And your Dad would be... ?"

"Dead. He and my Mom both. They were killed by some of our fine citizens."

"I mean, who was your Dad?" continued Neighbors.

"Phil, it's a dead issue. If you want to continue this talk then change the subject," interjected Spike.

"Ok, sorry. You've surprised everyone so far with your skill and to have lasted so long. You drive very conservatively out there, only getting rough when you needed to and that also shook up some people. I don't think Toshi Nimura was expecting the little move you put on him that took him out of the race. You know he coasted inside the safety zone and has been trying to get the officials to allow him to repair his car and continue the race? He said he would leave in last place where he belongs. So far they have denied his petition. Do you have any comment about that?"

"As far as I'm concerned he's out of the race. He didn't cross the line into the required stopping point. What they do is up to them. It doesn't matter. I intend to finish and to win if at all possible," she said. Continuing, "As far as racing, I paid my dues running dirt track, ovals, sprints and even some of the smaller cross countries. I've sucked hind tit and I've won and all the possibilities in between. I have a new mill that I've been working on and an idea. Spike has helped me bring a dream to a reality. He's propped me up when I've become discouraged and has helped to bring me back to reality when I let my dreams and ambition soar too high. I had a dream and he had the skill to bring it all about. As to why he's back in this mad business? It's simple, I asked him!"