Novels2Search
Tango 'Til They're Sore
Chapter 25: Hang On Saint Christopher

Chapter 25: Hang On Saint Christopher

Samara steadied Jack against the car door. "How are you, my dear?"

She tried to ignore the quite amazing amount of blood which covered the nearly-naked young human. She suspected that very little of it was Jack's. She risked a quick look over the roof of the car and was rewarded with a burst of gunfire which made her duck back down.

"I've sure as shit felt better, Blue," replied Jack. "I tried not to breathe that gas crap, but I think I still got a little of it. How'd you find me?"

"That is long story for another time. Suffice to say Marcus raised the alarm-"

"He's alive?" The cold and ferocious look on Jack's face was suddenly replaced with delight. It looked incongruous, given the bloody red mask of her face.

"He is indeed. He also somehow removed Cerberus control from EDI. I still have no idea how. Everyone on board now knows about Cerberus and Pragia. The Normandy is...under new management."

Jack grabbed Samara's hand and squeezed it tight just as they heard Grunt make his entrance. Samara pulled out another filter mask and placed it over Jack's face. "Here you go, dear. This should help against any more gas."

"Thanks, Blue." Jack pushed herself against the car door and started to get to her feet. "Just gimme a moment, I'll give you a hand-"

Samara smiled and pushed her back down to sit. "You've done plenty, my dear. Just rest at little while. Grunt and I have to go to work. Thane is keeping an eye on your position. Nobody is going to get near you."

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Corbin was glad for his helmet's breathing filters. The gas shouldn't hurt him, but he still didn't want to be breathing that shit. "Keep up the firing!" he yelled. "Make the biotics keep their heads down!" He could hear the clatter of weapons fire around him, interspersed with an occasional deep BOOM from whatever the hell the krogan was packing.

He dashed through the green murk and desperately scanned the ground for Harper. He found the Cerberus operative plastered against the rusted side of an aircar. Harper's head lolled in a boneless manner as Corbin peeled him away from the aircar and laid him on the ground. Corbin stripped off one gauntlet and touched his fingers to Harper's neck. Miraculously, he felt a pulse. He didn't have time to worry about neck injuries or any of that shit. He began slapping the sides of Harper's face.

"Harper? Come on, ya little shithead. Get up."

There was no response. Corbin heard loud, thudding footsteps close by followed by another bellow. He fumbled his gauntlet back on and gripped his gun. He had to get the newcomers on the back foot, and then call it in to Quentin. Corbin raised his rifle and let loose a long burst as he charged directly at the sound of the krogan. He burst out of the gas cloud right on top of the huge alien, just in time to see the last few bullets from his rifle smack into the bastard's shields. Corbin cannonballed into the krogan. He tucked his shoulder in as he collided, but it still felt like he'd run into a brick wall. Corbin was, however, more than big enough to stagger the krogan and he used the opportunity to dodge around the alien and run towards his men.

"Shift fire! Hit the krogan now!" He laid down another long burst behind him as he sprinted for cover. "Do not let him link up with the asari!"

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The Illusive Man finished shaving. He knew that it was an affectation. He'd been so extensively modified that he could have had his facial hair removed permanently. But he liked this perhaps primitive ritual, the calming feeling which it gave him. Given the horrible mess that Illium was turning into, he valued that calm. Of course, he shaved with an antique straight razor which cost more than most people's houses. The bathroom decor matched the razor's antiquity; it was all dark wood paneling trimmed with leather. He scraped off the last few little bits of shaving cream and rinsed the razor in a burnished copper basin, humming tunelessly to himself. He was just toweling his face dry when his comm buzzed.

"Sir, flash traffic from Illium. Quentin has just received an emergency call from one of his teams."

He tossed the towel aside with a silent grumble. "Report."

"Subject Zero extraction is in jeopardy. Harper is down, apparent casualty. Corbin's abduction team is engaging. Two more hostiles have appeared, apparently trying to rescue Subject Zero. Hostiles described as an asari in red armor and a krogan with, quote, the biggest fucking gun I've ever fucking seen, unquote."

"Hmm. The Justicar and Okeer's soldier. Patch Quentin through directly to me." He clicked off and walked out into the main room. The red giant star swirled in front of him, a maelstrom of nuclear fusion and yet he could watch that storm of fusion without fear of injury. He had always liked the symbolism of his chosen surroundings. He could sit at the heart of chaos and yet not be affected by it.

He tapped a few commands into his console.

"Hey!" yelled Quentin's voice. "You there?"

"Of course. I understand there have been some complications."

Quentin gave a bitter laugh. "You could say that. I've got at least fifteen of my people dead, as well as three or four vehicles scrapped. You never said it was going to be this difficult, and this is getting too expensive for us. I know you're paying us a lot, but if this keeps up I'm pulling the plug."

"Mr. Quentin, you knew full well going into this that you might have to directly encounter the Normandy's crew. And you also knew of their considerable capabilities. I can hardly be held responsible if you have not planned sufficiently for that. If you are angling for more money, please just state so up front."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Okay, fine. I need at least 50% more than the original fee if I'm going to get more people involved."

"Consider it done. Just do not fail me, Quentin. I will be in touch shortly. We may need to alter the overall goals of the mission." The Illusive Man severed contact. This whole operation was becoming most expensive. He would really have to accelerate the modified Indoctrination development programs. It would be so much nicer to have internal staffing to rely on for things like this.

The Illusive Man lit a cigarette and pondered for a few more moments. If two of the Normandy's crew were there to rescue Subject Zero, then it was certain that Lawson had failed. Either she had turned against Cerberus, or she had been somehow overpowered by the rest of the crew and then had betrayed the hotel's location. Either way, EDI was in danger. He had to keep up the pressure and make sure that Shepard didn't turn one of Cerberus' most powerful weapons around and point it back at him.

Fortunately, Shepard was predictable. One sure way to control him was to threaten innocent lives. And Lawson had to pay for her failure as well. He touched the console again.

"Notify the team tracking the Lawson sister. have them make the grab. I want Oriana in Cerberus custody within the hour." He then tapped in a few more commands. Miranda Lawson was now permanently locked out of Cerberus. She may have been able to do a little here and there before the lockout, but the damage should be minimal.

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Miranda's fingers flew over the console. Jacob knew that she was fast, but this was another level he'd never seen before. Her face was blank, and her lips were compressed into a thin line which indicated utter concentration. He realized he was standing a little too close to her desk, and decided to back up a little. He didn't want her to feel crowded. He looked over at the doorway to Miranda's office. Mess Sergeant Gardner was standing guard with a pistol at the ready. He looked at them both with barely disguised contempt, and Jacob couldn't honestly blame him. The armorer wished, not for the first time, that he'd never been tasked with apprehending Kasumi. She had a lot of friends on board.

"That makes ten accounts drained," said Miranda. "EDI, how is the list of Cerberus Reaper-tech projects coming?"

"I have the complete list, but these are only titles. I have full data on five point two percent of them, and partial data on an additional six point one percent."

"We'll have to assume we have enough funds for the moment. Let me give you a hand with that."

"Acknowledged." The AI's voice was dry and businesslike. "Warning, I am experiencing a sudden twenty-two percent loss in network access. I suspect that you are being locked out of the Cerberus network, Miranda."

"I'm locked out of what they know I have access to," she replied. "But I know a lot more of their network than they suspect. Let's keep working."

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Zaeed looked at the ground as the three of them shuffled along. He was 'supported' on either side by Garrus and Mordin. It was a bit of a paradox: they were trying not to be obviously seen, but still wanted to be at least glimpsed by the pursuing mercs. Their discovery couldn't look staged. It had to look like finding 'Shepard' was a happy accident.

Garrus took a quick look around the corner of the house they were leaning on. "There's our ride," he said. "Let's move." They shuffled off to the taxi. Zaeed hated feeling this exposed. He wanted a properly big gun, not a little holdout pistol in an ankle holster. But they had to keep up appearances. At least he had gotten his flamethrower stashed in the taxi.

"I think that van around the previous corner may have been one of their lookouts," murmured Garrus as they moved. "We may have been too careful. I don't know if they saw us."

"Concur," said Mordin. "May have to be more overt once airborne."

They got to the taxi. It was a standard automated aircar, but it was now fully manual thanks to some quick work by Tali and Donnelly. They slung Zaeed into the back, and Mordin hopped into the shotgun seat. Garrus settled behind the wheel, and they smoothly took off.

Mordin tapped various commands into his omni-tool, then gave a satisfied hum. "Just picked up significant chatter on a standard Blue Suns frequency. Source is nearby. Probably have been successfully spotted." Garrus nodded, and began climbing higher. Zaeed strapped his safety harness on and checked over his flamethrower. He wasn't nuts enough to actually use it while airborne, but it was nice to know it was there.

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Detective Anaya leaned a little forward and felt the amplifier goggles on her face adjust to keep focus. "Central, Anaya here. We just found one of the pursuing aircars. They are changing vector. Current course is south-southwest. They are accelerating, they must have just gotten word of something." She motioned to the driver of the police flitter, who brought them around in a graceful turn onto the same heading as their suspects. "We are maintaining contact. Any sign of the ground vehicles?"

"Anaya, this is Central. There is one report of a couple of the suspect vehicles gathering near the storm drain grate at the intersection of Nyrath and J'Tora. No sign of the black vehicle."

"Hmm, that drain is the in the opposite direction from where these guys are heading. Shall we break off and head back?"

"Negative, Anaya, we have ground forces on their way to intercept. Maintain pursuit of suspect aircar."

"Will do, Central." Anaya leaned back and stripped off the amplifier goggles. She then checked her sidearm yet again in an automatic movement. Whoever these motherless swine were, they had interrupted her tea break. And they would pay for that.

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Barry Nathan nodded as he cut the frequency. "Change to bearing one eight nine," he said aloud. His driver grunted in reply. Nathan then opened a channel to the ground team. "Jesperson? One of the spotter teams saw three people get into a taxi. One human in a coverall, plus a turian and a salarian. It could be they're trying to sneak Shepard out on the sly."

Jesperson's voice sounded in his ear. "We think we've got 'em tracked down. They're over one of the storm drains. I'll look and see if I can positively ID Shepard."

"You do that," replied Nathan. "I'll get close to the taxi and let you know what I see on this end."

His driver pointed. "Got 'em." There was a bright orange taxi, cruising serenely through the sky as if it had nothing to worry about. Nathan got his binoculars out.

"Yeah, that's the trio," he said. "The turian is driving, the salarian is riding shotgun and the human's in the back." He tried to look closer. "I can't positively ID the human. Get us closer."

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Meanwhile, Jesperson had finally run that damned black nightmare to ground. His team was arrayed around the cavernous drain entrance and he could just make out the angular shape of their quarry which sat on top of a huge metal grating. He squinted through his binoculars at the little figures milling around it. He was sorely tempted to just launch a couple of rockets into the drain and be done with it. But they'd been told to get Shepard alive, which precluded the use of heavy weapons for now. And in spite of Nathan's report, Shepard might still be in there somewhere.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Anybody got eyes on Shepard?" he commed to his crew.

"Maybe,' said one of them. "I was able to get closer. There's a guy there who's as big as Shepard. Next to the front of the vehicle."

Jesperson gave the distant figure in yellow a closer look. "Nah, that's Zaeed Massani. I recognize his armor." He clicked over to Nathan. "Hey, it's me. I just got a positive ID on Massani. They've definitely linked up with the Normandy crew somehow."

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Nathan nodded at Jesperson's news. "I figured. You need to keep after the ground vehicle, though. Just in case this is a trick." The aircar rocked a little in some minor turbulence, and he cursed as his binoculars bounced along with it. "Dammit, keep it still..." He squinted and tried to focus. It wasn't easy, since the human in the back of the taxi had his head turned away.

"C'mon, turn around asshole. Smile for the birdie..." muttered Nathan.

Almost as if he'd heard, the human turned to look at their aircar. Nathan lowered his binoculars with a triumphant grin. "Oh yeah, that's Shepard all right. We got 'im!" The Blue Suns merc smacked his pilot on the shoulder in glee. Their aircar began to accelerate to keep pace with Shepard's vehicle as Nathan chortled. Finally, this thing was beginning to turn around. He switched on his comm.

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In spite of his orders, Jesperson was close to simply saying 'screw it' and unloading everything he had at these bastards. It would have been a lot easier and very satisfying, given the carnage inflicted on his comrades. But they weren't getting paid for doing things easy, were they? He had at least enough professional pride to know that. "No place to run now, you fucks," he muttered to himself.

"Move out," he said aloud into his comm. He felt rather than saw as his team slipped out from behind their vehicles and began to converge on the storm drain. Jesperson readied his missile launcher...just in case, he told himself.

As they moved from cover, he saw that the salarians and humans had apparently retreated into the black vehicle. It was sitting by itself, with no one around it. His team got to within twenty yards of the drain only to hear the crackle of many small explosions going off in quick succession. Debris flew up all around the black shape. There followed a brief groan of breaking metal, and then the black tank dropped from view down into the drain below.

Jesperson cursed. "Shit, they're in the storm drains. Let's get after them..." His comm crackled with Nathan's voice.

"Jesperson, I got a good look. Shepard's definitely in the taxi, heading south-southwest. Lock on my signal."

Jesperson took one look at the dust cloud where the shape had gone, and shook his head. He wanted very badly to chase down those bastards and give them a taste of their own medicine. But he had a job to do. "With fucking pleasure. Good riddance to those fucks," he muttered. He ran back to his own vehicle, but just as he got to his door he heard the wail of sirens. Jesperson looked around in a mild panic and saw armored police vehicles coming up both ends of the street. Jesperson yanked the door to his car open and flung himself into the seat.

"Where to?" asked his driver. Jesperson just pointed at the dust cloud that now obscured the storm drain, and the driver obligingly stomped on the accelerator. Jesperson opened a comm back to the air team.

"Nathan! No can do on the pursuit. The cops are here. We're taking the only possible exit. I'll try to stay in touch. I'll also give those salarian bastards a little something to remember us by."

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"All three aircars now following," said Mordin. "Suspect they will try capture soon." He touched a few more controls on his omni-tool and then listened for a bit. "Police now heavily involved. Mercenary ground vehicles appear to be following Shepard team into the storm drains. Only remaining air pursuit should be behind us." He settled his fedora more firmly on his head and adjusted his sunglasses.

Garrus drove casually, with only one hand on the controls. Zaeed thought it might be a good idea to step on it, but didn't want to say so yet. The mercenary looked behind them again. Their three pursuers were starting to close the gap; one was directly behind and the other two were flanking. Zaeed was a little worried about air-to-air missiles, but so far it seemed that the mercs wanted Shepard alive. They'd probably try to match speed and then force their taxi down.

"What do you think, Zaeed?" asked Garrus. "Commercial or residential?"

"Um, let's do commercial. There should be more traffic to get lost in."

"I concur!" The turian sounded happy, almost as if they were planning a goddamn picnic. He swung the aircar around in a gentle arc.

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"Central, this is Anaya. Three suspect aircars now in pursuit of single taxi. Taxi appears to be under manual control. They are all headed for the J'Dera commercial district. Advise we put up police flitters to act as a screening force, we need to get them all down and out of the air."

"This is Central. Maintain pursuit, we are setting up the intercept."

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Zaeed peered between the front seats and saw ahead of them a mass of distant police flitters. The flitters had the blinking red and blue lights which seemed to be the galaxy-wide signal for 'stop right there, this is the law'. He glanced over at Garrus, who still drove casually with one hand. Had the sniper fallen asleep? Zaeed wished the turian would take off those damn sunglasses and that ridiculous black fedora. He wondered where the hell Garrus had gotten a hat big enough to fit his head.

Zaeed steadied himself. Garrus was a pro. Hell, they all were pros. Any minute now the turian would pull some fancy maneuver.

The police got closer.

Garrus wasn't slowing. If anything, he was now going faster. But Zaeed kept his calm. Yes sir, any minute now and Garrus would swerve and start doing some really sweet driving. Of course he would.

The police kept getting closer. Zaeed could make out details on the individual police cars now. He could read the asari printing on their hoods. Garrus wasn't slowing. Mordin watched the oncoming cars with a seriously bored expression on his face which matched Garrus's casual air.

"Um, Garrus?" Zaeed tried to sound just as casual as his two comrades.

They got closer still to the police. Now he could see the forms of the asari in the cars. They all seemed to be frantically waving the oncoming aircar off.

"Hello? Garrus?"

They were literally on top of the police. Zaeed could see the chips in the paint job on the nearest flitter.

"Oh, shit-" Zaeed ducked behind Mordin's seat just as Garrus gave a little flick of his hand. The aircar twisted ninety degrees and shot through the minuscule gap between two of the flitters. Zaeed looked up through the taxi's transparent roof and locked eyes briefly with one of the terrified asari officers as they rocketed past. Garrus gave another flick and now they were back to horizontal.

There followed a hideous smashing noise behind them as one of the pursuing mercenary vehicles plowed into a flitter. Zaeed risked a quick look behind them. The police vehicle had definitely come out on top in that encounter. It was in one piece while the mercenary car became a flaming wreck dropping to the ground. He figured that Nos Astra police must be able to afford pretty good shields. The other two pursuers were able to dodge through the swerving mass of flitters. They both were still in the chase.

"Jesus, man!" yelled Zaeed.

"Relax," said Garrus. "One down, two to go."

"Wrong," said Zaeed. The receding group of flitters was starting to peel off to pursue them. "Two merc cars plus every goddamn police car in Nos Astra."

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Anaya rubbed at her forehead. "Okay, keep them in sight. Don't get directly in the way of that taxi. Whoever's driving it is a certifiable lunatic. Try to funnel them towards the new construction to the east. There's less traffic there. Just keep in contact and keep Central updated on their location."

She turned to her pilot. "Take us up higher. I want to get a better picture of the situation."

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Zaeed tried not to look at the buildings as they blurred by. He didn't want to be reminded of how fast they were going. He looked back, and saw one of the pursuers gaining on their rear right corner.

"They're coming up on our right, Garrus," he said. He had drawn his holdout pistol, but he didn't really want to think about trying to make a shot right now.

"I see it," said Garrus casually. He spun the wheel and Zaeed felt his harness strain. Their taxi made a sudden left turn into some kind of parking structure. Now Zaeed really didn't want to look out the windows. Parked vehicles sped by on each side, even closer to them than the buildings had been. There was a glare of lights from behind them; the two merc cars had followed the taxi.

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"Keep on them, dammit!" growled Nathan. "I've got you now, Shepard, you sonafabitch." He heard his driver whimper.

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"Oh, Goddess," said Anaya. "Okay, all units surround that parking structure. Do not, repeat, do not follow inside. I'll be down there shortly. Barricade all the exits. Nothing gets out of there, you understand?" Her flitter began descending. She slipped on her amplifier goggles back on and took a good look at the parking structure. It only had a few exits, which was fortunate. The structure butted up against a tall tower in the shape of a truncated cone. The tower looked to be some sort of shopping plaza. There was nothing else close by, which should make things easier for the police to maneuver around.

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"Police have blocked exits," said Mordin. "Pursuers also appear quite persistent. Not many options exist for leaving present confined situation."

Zaeed thought that was a pretty fancy way of saying that they were fucked. He clung to his harness for dear life as they whirred around another hairpin turn. The rear of the taxi banged off of a parked vehicle. The lights of their pursuers were close behind. It looked like whoever was driving them was just as determined as Garrus

"C'mon, it's not that bad," said Garrus. There was another turn and a bang on their other side. Zaeed heard another, sharper crack and saw a spiderweb-like crack appear in the back window. The mercs were shooting at them now.

"Not that bad?" snapped Zaeed. "You got us in here, dammit. How are you going to get us out?"

Garrus turned his head slightly and gave the mercenary a level look from behind his sunglasses. "You want out of this parking garage? Ho-kay!"

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The asari shopkeeper smiled at Harry. He was so glad he'd come to Illium for vacation; how could you go wrong with a planet filled with nothing but beautiful blue women? "Will there be anything else, sir?" she asked.

He thought about asking for her omni-tool number. But aloud he said, "Yes, my nephew is also really into Blasto. I was wondering if you had any of his action figures-"

Suddenly he felt a deafening crash behind him and a blast of air which threw him forward over the counter. He landed right on top of the asari. They looked at each other in surprise, then she pushed him off and they both scrambled to their feet. There was now a huge hole punched right through the wall of the store, and another right by the store's entrance. As Harry watched, a dark blue aircar screamed through the hole in the outer wall and then into the plaza, followed quickly by another.

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Garrus blared the taxi's horn as they sped through the interior of the plaza. Pedestrians were scattering out of their way. Somehow, they hadn't hit anyone yet.

Zaeed had once been held down and shot in the head by someone he'd considered a comrade-in-arms. That was the nearest he'd ever come to death. He decided that this moment was going to be a very close second. He saw panicked shoppers diving for cover, and there didn't seem to be a single sheet of glass which Garrus didn't drive right through. There was another crack and yet another spiderweb in the window behind him. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." he chanted, almost as a mantra against harm.

He risked a quick peek around Mordin's seat. There was a large ice-cream shop which spanned the entire width of the thoroughfare. He saw one small opening at its edge that couldn't possibly fit their taxi, even if it was tilted on the side. Just as he realized this, Garrus made another quick flick of the hand and they made a hard right turn. The taxi smashed through another huge glass window and then sped out into the plaza's cavernous interior space.

"Fascinating!" said Mordin. "Another excellent example of classic asari architecture! Very similar to the Hotel T'Loria!"

"Yeah," replied Garrus. "Lots of space in this mall."

"Indeed! Interesting variety of shops as well!"

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Nathan's car scraped against one of the edges of the hole in the window as it followed the taxi. His driver seemed to be almost in a trance due to fear and trying very hard not to Crash Into Everything. "Sir, please, I think-" he began.

"You shut your whore mouth and drive," snarled Nathan. "We've got 'em." They rocketed out into the tower's hollow interior, close on Shepard's car. Nathan glanced behind them. The number two Blue Suns aircar hadn't quite made the turn properly, and was now firmly stuck into the side of the ice cream shop. He swiveled his eyes back to the front and bared his teeth. "Just you and me now, Shepard," he said. "Let's see what you've got."

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"Elcor-specific footwear!" chirped Mordin as he pointed at a shop sign while it blurred by. Zaeed refused to look at it. He gripped the back of Mordin's seat and tried not to imagine what the inevitable crash would feel like. Would it hurt? Probably not as much as getting shot in the head. Maybe it was the anticipation which was getting to him. Vido's betrayal had come out of nowhere; he'd never even had time to get scared.

Garrus whipped the car in a turn, skimming their car's belly right next to the windows which looked out into the mall's open interior. Zaeed heard a smash behind him as the pursuing aircar didn't make the turn quite as gracefully.

Mordin pointed at another sign up ahead. "Quarian suit repair!"

Garrus shook his head. "Man, this place has got everything."

He dropped the taxi's nose. "All right. Time to wrap this up," he continued.

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Nathan pounded on the dash. "Fucking hell, keep on them!" His driver's face was now pure white as he dropped the nose of their car to keep pointed at the taxi. Their quarry dropped like a stone, and Nathan felt his guts rise as they both went into freefall. The taxi pulled up at the last second before hitting bottom and dodged into the mouth of a tunnel at the base of the plaza.

"I'm on them, sir," said his driver in a tight voice. Nathan felt his face pull taut from the acceleration as his car made the same maneuver. He could see the taxi's lights ahead of them. The taxi's rear grew larger. In spite of all of the fancy driving, Shepard's taxi just wasn't quite as fast as their car. They were edging close to their prey's rear bumper. Any moment now...

The taxi made a precise little swerve to the side, and suddenly Nathan was staring directly at very large and quite immovable support pillar made out of Oh So Very Solid Concrete.

He barely had time to scream before they plowed into it at a hundred kilometers an hour.

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Garrus carefully maneuvered the taxi into an alcove. They were now deep in the structure. "Right, everybody out!" he called.

Zaeed managed to pry his fingers off of the back of Mordin's seat and got out of the car. He resisted the urge to kiss the sweet, sweet ground. The taxi was a dented and smoking wreck by this point. He wasn't sure what exactly was keeping it held together.

Both Garrus and Mordin took off their hats and glasses and tossed them all into the taxi. "All right," said Garrus. "It's about time we got our friendly neighborhood mercenary back."

Zaeed stared at him in confusion, then realized he was still wearing the Shepard hologram. "Oh, yeah, that," he said. He stripped off the collar and tossed it into the taxi, then retrieved his flamethrower. The feel of the hefty weapon in his hands helped get some of his nerve back.

"Care to do the honors, Zaeed?" asked Garrus. The mercenary looked blankly at him for a moment, then realized what needed to be done. He took aim at the taxi and pulled the trigger. After a liberal application of flaming napalm, the taxi was now a smoldering mound of charred metal. The smell and heat helped calm him even further.

"That was fun," said Garrus. "I should do more driving." He and Mordin strolled off, with Zaeed tottering along after.

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Nathan came to and groaned as he took a breath. There was some damage to his right side, but probably nothing too serious. But his right arm was now pinned by the folded-in side of his aircar. They had flipped onto their roof after the crash. He twisted his head around and saw his driver hanging upside-down in his safety harness. The man appeared unhurt and miraculously conscious.

"Call for backup!" he yelled at the driver. "My arm's pinned, I can't reach my comm."

The driver shook himself, then nodded and touched his forearm. Instead of the usual holographic display forming, there instead was a sputter and a few sparks from his ruined device.

"Aw, man!" said the driver. "They broke my omni-tool!"

Nathan ground his teeth. "I'm gonna catch that sucker. If it's the last thing I ever do. Im'a gonna eat that bastard's heart..."

His oath of eternal vengeance was cut short by a crunching noise outside the car. Nathan twisted his head around and saw two booted feet standing amongst broken glass. He twisted his head further and looked up and out. The boots belonged to a very tall asari in a police uniform. Even though she was upside-down from his viewpoint, Nathan could tell she was terminally pissed off. She had a detective badge attached to her lapel as well as a very big gun pointed right at his forehead.

"Boys," she said, "You in big trouble."