𝟤7 𝖡𝗂𝗀 𝖡𝗂𝗋𝖽, 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗒
You could call it a Cold War equivalent to Google Earth - the spy satellite Hexagon, also known as Big Bird. -Ed Barrett, Department of Science and Technology Studies, University College London.
"No Molotov cocktails," Raymond exclaimed. Put that gasoline away, Vince. We don't need to napalm their asses."
Vincent turned to look at him. "What the hell do you know about armed combat, Soy Boy? You've never been out from behind a desk."
"Fuck you, Rambo." Raymond held up his phone. "I'm takin' down Big Bird."
The ex-Navy Seal's mouth fell open. "You can take their satellites offline?"
"I can as soon as I activate my cuckoo egg's back door in their operating system."
"What are you waitin' for? Crack that shell, baby." Penetrate their shields." Vincent pumped his fist. "Hell, I'm impressed by your white-collar industriousness. Make it a double shot and take down Humpty Dumpty too."
Raymond pulled up his invasive software, which he'd named ICARUS (Industrial Computer Application Retrieval Utility System), on his phone. Opening the hacking program, he knew he had more power at his fingertips than the President but remained detached from his emotions.
"What in God's name are you two talking about? What's this plan to kill a Sesame Street character? Especially, Big Bird. He's my favorite." Evelyn grabbed the headrest, stabilizing herself in the speeding car. "Shit, I feel like I'm in some alternate Tron reality."
Flickering neon lights from the dashboard lit up Deedee's grinning face. "If he can take those surveillance satellites offline, we're invisible to them. It's cyber warfare, baby."
"Incoming!" Vincent yelled.
The SUV lurched as an assault missile blew up a Dunkin Donuts as they flew past. The abandoned establishment's huge pink donut rolled across the road as large flakes of rust flew off its sides like chocolate sprinkles.
"Oh shit, fuck that bird's ass." Evelyn twisted her upper body like a pretzel trying to see their assailant.
The ICARUS software scanned Raymond's retina and confirmed his identity. "I'm in," he shouted.
"Do something," Evelyn yelled. She looked out the window. "They're coming back for another pass."
"Nah, that was a warning shot. If they'd wanted to take us out, we'd already be dead." Vincent gave the pursuers the finger.
They all jumped when the rear windshield exploded, shards of glass peppering the interior leather. Deedee swerved and screamed, "Mother Fuckers."
"The satellite's offline," Raymond advised. "Make your move, Dee."
Muttering expletives, the Drag Queen headed for a heavier traffic pattern and merged with rush hour commuters. "I'll lose them under the fly under." The whirlybird was tracking them visually now. Skillfully weaving her way through traffic, she shot under a toll booth and headed for an upcoming tunnel. "Look for maroon SUV's," she ordered.
"There's one." Vincent cried.
Deedee pulled up beside the car. "Time for a little bait and switch," she crowed.
The helicopter stayed on their tail as the two maroon SUV's exited the tunnel. Up ahead, the divided highway separated into a road with two lanes of traffic traveling in two directions. As they passed under the overpass, Deedee steered hard left and drove over a strip of grass. Looking up, Raymond saw the chopper follow the other maroon SUV. "Stupid assholes." He turned to the driver. "Nice work, Lady Dee."
"Thanks. Keep a lookout everyone. We're gonna need to make a pit stop at a truck stop."
"Why'd you call that software the ICARUS app," Evelyn asked.
Raymond closed his phone screen. "In Greek mythology, Icarus and his father, Daedalus, make wings using feathers and wax to escape from a labyrinth in Crete. His father warns him not to fly too close to the sun, but drunk on power, Icarus believes he's invincible. A god. Until the sun burns off his wax wings. If these asshole generals want to go scorched earth on me, then I'm more than happy to rip the wings off their eyes in the sky."
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