Chapter 5: The Fustercluck

“Use your map program, Acky,” George said, “Figure out how to get rid of them; I don’t want them to know we are heading back south.”

“If we try to lose them, are they not going to assume we are going south, anyway?” Akilah pointed out.

“The top speed of a Lincoln Town Car is one hundred sixteen,” George replied, “And a stock Volvo 960 is one-thirty, and we know yours will do one-sixty, so...”

“If you get me arrested, pissed off won’t come close to how angry mom will be,” Jessica pointed out, “The Chips are nasty.”

“It is night time,” Akilah said contemptuously, “The Chips fastest car is the Caprice, and I can go more than 25 miles per hour faster than them, I can get there quicker, and my car can handle the road better. They do not worry me.”

“I am not going to speed,” Jessica insisted, “Well, not really.”

“We aren’t going to speed,” George said, “Once we ditch the feds, anyway. You have a route, Acky?”

“I have got one, yes,” Akilah replied, “I am ready when you are.”

They got into the Volvo. It was not just a beige Volvo wagon; it had been fitted with custom wheels and trim that made it look like a base model. It had what looked like 15” hubcaps, even though they were really 17” alloys; it had plenty of black plastic trim, and a valved exhaust that made it seem weaker than it was. Because the FBI had not engaged in arresting Rico, George assumed they had not seen their escape, and so did Akilah.

She took off from the motel’s parking lot gently in second gear, accelerating smoothly but not rapidly. They both saw Jack’s Town Car pull out behind them just as smoothly.

“He must be the only car assigned to us,” George remarked.

“Obviously,” Akilah agreed, “That will make this very much easier. This is especially true as they are holding a bit back for some reason. Tell me when we lose the headlights.”

Akilah accelerated close to the speed limit, shifting into 3rd as she turned left onto Palo Verde Dr, continuing with partial throttle.

“Behind the building,” George said as a house at the corner of Palo Verde and Panorama.

“Hold on,” Akilah said as she downshifted into second hard and stepped just hard enough on the throttle to not have wheelspin but gain the most acceleration as she turned left on to Panorama. The car jumped forward with a burst of speed, and she slammed into third gear again. As the car approached the next intersection, she skip-shifted into first while holding in the clutch, and pulled the handbrake to skid into a left turn.

“He’s seen us,” George said, “He’s stopping.”

There were few enough houses on the street that Jack’s driver saw the Volvo accelerating hard going in the opposite direction before she had even made the left turn. It was a short distance back to Desert Shores drive, and she took the right hard anyway, not even bothering to shift into second before making the turn. The Volvo shot up to redline as she shifted into second heading in the opposite direction they had originally been down Desert Shores Drive.

“Jesus, his driver is good,” George growled, “J-turn. He’s pursuing.”

The Lincoln had done a skidding reverse 180° turn and was now accelerating after them.

“Good thing for the plan B,” Akilah muttered to herself.

The Volvo shot through the intersection of Desert Shores Drive and California 86, the pavement turning from asphalt to desert dust, going almost 100 mph. The scream of locking wheels from a late-running 18-wheeler caught Jessica’s attention as it missed them by less than 10 feet and came to a stop in the dead center of the intersection, it’s wheels and the pavement smoking under the desert spot light.

“Jack swerved just barely around the truck,” George said.

“Jack?” Akilah said questioningly, “Tell me later.”

Spinning the wheel quickly while stepping hard on the brakes, then jumping back on the accelerator, the Volvo skidded into a right turn and then took off losing surprisingly little speed on the almost tractionless desert sand.

“He’s not god, after all,” George remarked.

The Lincoln had tried to keep up with the vastly more nimble Volvo around the dust corner, but the driver had lost it and ended up spinning too far and facing the wrong direction. Akilah kept accelerating, the car bouncing pretty hard on the rough desert road.

“He’s having a hard time,” George remarked, “Isn’t this north?”

“I am glad you are paying good attention,” Akilah remarked.

In about half a mile, the road intersected 86, and Akilah turned right on it, doing almost a U-turn, just as another car passed going southbound, and accelerated very, very hard.

“Oh, you beautiful girl,” George exclaimed about 20 seconds later, “The fool turned left- heading north.”

“I know you think I am beautiful,” Akilah said, “But it was almost a 50-50 chance.”

“Would you two lovebirds knock it off?” Jessica grumbled.

“Shah,” Akilah replied, “Back to your car?”

“You got it, Acky,” George said, “Be inconspicuous.”

Akilah dropped the car down from triple digit speeds to about five over the limit and slowly passed an early morning traveler in a Pontiac Grand Prix as they continued south back towards Brawley.

“How long until we get there?” Jessica asked.

“You can read the screen as well as I,” Akilah said, “A little after four I think.”

The drive continued in silence for some time, George and Jessica both using the time to get a little shuteye. It had been a long night. Akilah had a Sammy Hagar complex- she couldn’t really drive 55- and they got there at about 3:50. Akilah shook George awake, and George reached back and woke up Jessica.

“Come, let me show you how to drive-”

“It’s a car, I can drive it,” Jessica cut in.

“It’s a very slow and cranky car,” George replied, “Come on.”

George got in the driver’s seat, and Jessica got in on the passenger’s side.

“You insert the key like this,” George said, “And then turn it clockwise one click at a time until the dashboard lights illuminate and then stop. See that one that looks like a coil on the right side?”

“It just turned off,” Jessica said.

“Right,” George said, “You have to wait until that light turns off before turning the key to the start position, like so. The car is supposed to shake like this. It is very slow, you have to keep that in mind when driving it.”

“What if I lose you two?” Jessica asked.

“Good question,” George said, and stabbed at the Garmin StreetPilot III sitting on a beanbag mount on the dashboard, “There, I just programmed it for the yard. Just follow the directions, but don’t lose us, we’ll keep to sane speeds.”

“Akilah doesn’t know how to do that,” Jessica griped.

“She does,” George said, “She just rarely uses that knowledge.”

George drove his car over to Larry’s CL600 coupe, and Jessica got in the driver’s seat of the 4-year-old diesel Mercedes. Akilah followed in her Volvo.

“Good luck, okay?” George said.

“For a drive home?” Jessica said, “I keep telling you I’m not a baby.”

“Oh brother,” George said, “My gun’s in the door pocket, god help us if you need it,” and got into Larry’s car and turned the key in the ignition. The 6-liter quad-cam V-12 roared to life, vibrating with its 389-horsepower potential. George turned on the lights; suddenly three sets of lights shot on across the parking lot.

“Book it!” Akilah rang out from the Nextel phone. George didn’t have to be told twice; in his headlights were three Cadillacs; a what looked like a late model Deville in blue with a brown top, a red Eldorado, and a late model Seville STS in a dark green. Generally, feds didn’t drive Cadillacs and normal people aren’t awake in triplicate at four in the morning. Then George realized the Cadillac “Deville” was actually a rare Fleetwood Limited; an exclusive elongated model built by Superior Coach.

“Go Jessica, GO!” George called into his Nextel as he cranked the wood and leather steering wheel hard over and squealed the tires as he nailed the throttle with the car in drive. Akilah had already pulled another skilled Rockford turn and was belching tire smoke as she fed almost 360 horses through the rear wheels without traction control.