Fic: Blue Thunder--Chapter Six
One moment Jensen was driving down the Golden State Freeway, his hands at twelve and nine on the steering wheel and his eyes fixed on the tail lights ahead of him, the next he couldn’t breathe, his heart was pounding in his chest and he was shaking and tingling, with chills running up his arms.
“Fuck,” he squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “Fuck!”
He pulled off the freeway at the next exit and then drove for another block before pulling into the parking lot of large apartment block.
He was sweating now too, feeling light-headed and dizzy, so he pushed the car seat back as far as it would go, leaned forward and put his head between his knees.
“I’m not there, I’m not there,” he chanted. “Not dying,” he rubbed at his chest. “Not having a heart attack. Just a panic attack,” he sucked in air and pressed his hand harder against his aching chest. “You stupid mother-fucking loser, Ackles,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.
Behind his eyelids he saw the strobing lights of the police car cutting into the dark. The twisted body on the ground. He remembered the copper scent of blood in the air.
His anxiety levels had already been sky-high, it was little wonder that the attempt on Jared’s life had pushed him over the edge into a full-blown panic attack.
Jensen reminded himself to breathe slowly and deeply. He counted backwards in threes from one hundred. He recited the lyrics to Paint it Black: I look inside myself and see my heart is black; I see my red door and I must have it painted black; Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts; It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
And didn’t that just describe his life? Probably not helpful though. He needed to get out of his dark headspace, not further into it.
Jensen took a gulp of air. “Strange as it may seem,” he recited, “they give ball players nowadays very peculiar names. Now, on the St Louis team we have Who's on first, What's on second, I Don't Know is on third-”
Time passed. Jensen began to shiver.
Jared had left an old grey UCLA hoodie on the front passenger seat and Jensen reached out for it. It smelled like sweat, cut-grass and Jared and Jensen imagined Jared jogging through a park early one morning, sweaty pecs and biceps hidden beneath grey fabric. He buried his face in the pullover, took a deep breath and immediately felt like a creep. He huffed out a laugh and then shrugged into the hoodie.
By the time Jensen felt safe to drive again it was four am. He set his stop watch for sixty seconds and then closed his eyes. He opened them half a second before the timer sounded and smiled.
Okay. First thing he had to do was get to Blue Thunder. Jared had left a message inside her and Jensen needed to get to that message before anyone else did. He started the engine and headed slowly and sensibly to the Air Support Headquarters.
Jensen parked two blocks away from HQ and switched on the car radio. When a news bulletin finally came on, the hit and run on Jared didn’t even rate a mention. Jensen frowned. That didn’t mean they weren’t looking for him, it just meant they were being subtle about it.
He put on his aviator sunglasses and then took them off again, because it was still dark and he couldn’t see shit. He found Jared’s JAFO cap in the glove-box and put that on too, tugging the peak down to obscure his face before pulling up the hoodie’s hood.
Jensen looked at his watch: 5.00am. He would wait another half an hour.
At 5.30, Jensen did another ‘sanity check’ and then he got out of the car and made his way to HQ, sneaking into the parking garage on foot when the security officer was distracted. He entered Air Support’s offices via the fire stairs and then made his way through the mostly-empty office. Jensen had timed his arrival to coincide with a shift change, so most staff were in the locker rooms when he walked through the office. He paused just around the corner from Jim’s office and put his ear to the wall.
“Why don’t we just blank the tape?” he heard Sterling Brown say.
“No can do,” Heyerdahl replied. “They tell me that Padalecki changed the security code. To go through every possible combination would take forever. And we don’t have forever. Ackles is a bleeding heart liberal for all that’s he’s a Texan Marine,” Heyerdahl’s tone was scathing. “Probably because he’s a Goddamn faggot, just like that Padalecki kid.”
Jensen’s stomach dropped through the floor.
“What?” said Sterling Brown.
“Now you wait just a Goddamn minute!” Jim said, and Jensen could tell by his tone that he was furious.
“No you wait,” Heyerdahl barked. “This outfit is a disgrace. Your men have jeopardized an important government project and I will personally see you bumped down the ranks for this, Beaver.”
Jensen decided it was time to leave and snuck out to the hangar while it was still quiet in the office. He bided his time at the door and when the two maintenance guys who’d been out there went into one of the workshops, he slipped through the door and jogged across to Blue Thunder, carefully opening the pilot-side door and climbing inside.
Jensen switched on the cockpit audio recorder’s play-back button and Jared’s voice filled the helicopter.
“Hey Jensen. It’s Jared. I’m leaving this tape as a failsafe but hopefully we won’t have to use it. Hopefully I’ll be able to tell you all this myself when you come over later this evening. Hopefully…well, some of the stuff we talked about earlier that didn’t make Big Brother’s greatest hits tape? Hopefully we’ll get to do some of that stuff tonight, and I’ve gotta say, I’m really looking forward to it. I’m even gonna stop at Walgreens on my way home, if you get my drift. Anyway, I’ve got the tape and, just to be on the safe side, I’m going to hide it. There’s this drive-in that I go to at Riverside and Victory, on the corner there, and they’ve got a dumpster behind the concession stand that only gets emptied on Mondays. So I’m gonna put it in there,” there was a pause and then Jared’s voice said, “This is getting kinda fun, isn’t it? Real cloak-and-dagger stuff. It’s kind of a turn-on. God, I sure hope I get the girl after all this,” Jared laughed softly. “And in case you were wondering, you’re the girl, Jensen.”
Jensen’s lips twitched up in a smile even as he felt tears welling in his eyes. “Not a girl,” he murmured.
“Oh hey,” Jared’s disembodied voice added. “You’ll be pleased to know I finally figured out what JAFO stands for,” Jensen put his hand up to the peak of the cap he was wearing. “Just Another Fucking Observer,” Jared said. “I hope they’re right about the ‘fucking’, but I’m not gonna be ‘just another’ anything, Jensen, I hope you know that.”
A single tear slid down Jensen’s face and he nearly leapt out of his skin when there was a sudden banging on the window beside him.
“Get outta there,” said one of Blue Thunder’s special maintenance team. “You’re not supposed to be in there. Get the fuck outta there!”
Jensen lowered his head and blinked back his tears.
“Did you hear me?” the guy’s accent was all Bronx. “Get the fuck outta there!”
Jensen pulled his gun and pointed it at the broad-chested man clad in beige overalls who was glowering at him from beside the chopper.
“You talkin’ to me?” Jensen channeled his inner Taxi Driver.
“Whoa, man,” the maintenance guy held his hands up palms out and backed away. Then he turned and ran.
“Well I’m the only one here,” Jensen muttered, lowering his gun and putting it back in its holster. He sat for a moment with his head bowed, feeling the adrenalin surging through his veins like a horde of angry wasps ready to swarm.
This was beyond fucked up. His own government-or its representatives anyway-was deliberately whipping up trouble in disadvantaged communities to give them an excuse to militarize the police force. They’d murdered a popular elected councilwoman in defense of their project, they’d tried to kill Jared and they’d sanctioned his own murder.
Jensen lifted his head and stared sightlessly out the chopper’s windshield. In his mind’s eye he saw, not the LAPD’s Air Support helipad, but the grasslands of Vietnam, surrounded by jungle. Blindly, he started the chopper, and put her in the air.
If they wanted the police to start acting like the army, if they wanted a war, Jensen would give them a war.
He was dimly aware of Heyerdahl running out of the Air Support building and shooting at him, but the bullets of his handgun merely ricocheted harmlessly off Blue Thunder’s military grade armor. Jensen made a gun with his thumb and forefinger and pointed it at Heyerdahl. “Catch you later, asshole,” he said.
The familiarity of his hand on the collective and the comforting thrum of the rotor blades soothed Jensen’s fury enough that he could begin to think.
He needed to get to that tape and he needed to make it public as soon as possible.
“This is the Tower. Blue Thunder, come in.”
Jensen ignored the Tower and rubbed a hand across his chin. He knew the Drive-in Jared was talking about and there was no way he could set a chopper down there. He was going to need somebody’s help to retrieve it. He frowned. And then what? It had to be broadcast, and soon.
Abruptly, it occurred to Jensen that he was staring right at the answer. In the distance he could see the radio antennae and satellite dishes on the roof of the KBLA Television building. He chewed at his lip and glanced down at the keypad in front of the television monitors. Whitfield had explained that it could be used just like a telephone. Sort of like one of those car phones that you sometimes saw in limousines and the fancy cars of big-wig executives.
Jensen changed Blue Thunder’s communication setting from standard radio to the telephone pad, which cut off the Tower’s nagging insistence that he return to base, and then, tentatively, he dialed 411.
“Los Angeles Directory Assistance. How may I help you?”
Well what do you know? It worked. Imagine being able to use a telephone anywhere. That was awesome.
“I need you to connect me to KBLA TV,” Jensen said.
“That number is listed in your directory, Sir,” said the operator.
Jensen frowned. “I’m calling you, because I don’t have a directory. I also don’t have a lotta free hands for dialing right now. This is a police emergency, so could you please just put me through?”
There was silence on the line, followed by a click, and then:
“Good morning. KBLA TV. How may I direct your call?”
Jensen grinned. “Hi. Could you put me through to Megalyn Echikunwoke, please.”
“She’s not available right now. Would you like to leave a message?”
“Yeah. Tell her that Officer Jensen Ackles from LAPD Air Support Division called. Tell her I’ve got a package coming her way.”
“Jason Ackles-”
“Jensen. Jensen Ackles. LAPD Air Support.”
“Jensen Ackles. Got it sir.”
Jensen dialed 411 again. “DA, this is a police emergency. I need you to directly connect me to the number for Danneel Harris,” he spelled out her name. And waited.
“Hello?”
Jensen closed his eyes briefly. It was such a relief to hear her voice. Danni was his best friend. She’d been with him, been on his side, since he was barely more than a kid, and she had quite literally made him live, at a time in his life when he’d seriously thought that the alternative might be better.
“Hi, Danni,” he said. And fuck. He couldn’t even make his voice sound right.
Danni was onto it in a flash. “Jensen, what’s wrong?”
“They tried to kill Jared,” how he managed to keep his voice from breaking, he didn’t know.
“What? What happened to Jared?”
“We found out about something. Something we shouldn’t have. And now there are people trying to kill us. And no, this is not some paranoid delusion. I’m not having some big, crazy vet freak out. This is real. And I need your help.”
“Okay,” Danni’s reply was instant. “What can I do?”
Jensen hesitated. “I shouldn’t be asking you this. It could be dangerous.”
Danneel snorted. “I laugh in the face of danger, you know that. Besides, except for driving the wrong way up the freeway the other day, it’s been far too long since I had some serious, high adrenalin fun. What can I do?”
“I need you to pick up a package for me. It’s evidence of serious high level corruption. Jared hid it for us before they…they tried to run him down with a car, Danni,” this time Jensen’s voice did break.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Danni’s voice was comforting and reassuring. “Is he gonna be okay?”
Jensen took a ragged breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, chewing at his bottom lip.
“Okay. We’ll deal with that later,” Danneel’s voice was steady as a rock. “In the meantime, where do you want me to take the tape?”
“KBLA TV. Megalyn Echikunwoke should be expecting it.”
“Okay, Jenny-bean. I’m on it. Where are you?”
“I’m in the air, baby. I may have…slightly borrowed a state-of-the-art armored helicopter. Which I’ll be using to provide you with Air Support. And Danni? You don’t stop, okay? Not for anyone. Not even the cops. You give that tape to Megalyn Echikunwoke and nobody else.”
Danni laughed softly. “I knew that underneath that cool, officer and a gentleman exterior there still lurked the heart of the guy who stole Michael Weatherly’s boxers and hoisted them up the flagpole at college.”
“Hey now,” Jensen said. “Nobody saw me do that. You can’t prove anything. Besides, the guy was an asshole, cheating on my best friend the way he did.”
He gave Danneel instructions on how to get to the Drive-in and then rang off so that she could get going. He’d barely ended the call when the helicopter-phone started to ring.
Jensen stared at it. It hadn’t actually occurred to him that if he could call people, people could call him. He debated whether to answer it for a moment, and then figured whoever it was would just keep trying, which would be annoying, so he picked up the call.
“Jensen?” said Jim’s voice. “Is that you, Son?”
“Lemme guess,” Jensen said. “You’re supposed to talk me down.”
“Yep,” Jim said. “And to let you know that we know you called KBLA TV and Danneel Harris. I’ve got the boys from Washington here in my office and they won’t tell me exactly what’s going on, but they seem very concerned about some tape,” Jim paused. “Son, if you keep this up you could drag Danni down with you too. There’ll be police officers looking to intercept her wherever she goes and Frederic Lehne will be waiting for her at KBLA TV as well. I’m sure you don’t want Danni to get into any trouble.”
“No I don’t,” Jensen said.
“So you’ll come in?”
“No. Sorry, Jim. You’re just gonna have to trust me on this,” Jensen disconnected the call.
Jim hadn’t tried very hard to persuade him to come in, which probably meant that he trusted Jensen to do the right thing. No doubt he’d been pressured by Sterling and Heyerdahl to make the call, but he’d probably made it for his own reasons, to let Jensen know that they were on to Danni.
It didn’t take long for Jensen to pick up Danni’s car on the 101. He flew high overhead, keeping an eye out for law enforcement, and watched with relief as she entered the Drive-in without having drawn any attention. Unfortunately, the Drive-in’s boom gate was down and the security booth was unattended. Jensen glanced around and could see the guard making a circuit of the grounds. Below him, Danni sounded the horn and Jensen saw the guard look back toward the main entrance. He began to make his way back, but he was right on the other side of the Drive-in. Danni waited two minutes and then she backed her car up.
“No way,” Jensen murmured. “You’re not serious.”
Danni revved her engine and then charged the boom gate, sending it flying.
Jensen winced. The security guard began to run.
Meanwhile, Danni headed straight for the dumpster behind the concession stand.
Jensen watched as she leapt out of her Celica. She stood on tiptoes and peered into the dumpster and then turned and glared up at Jensen before hiking up the skirt of her red-and-white drop-waist dress and climbing into the dumpster. Jensen noticed, distractedly, that she was wearing high-heeled cowboy boots and a white, billowy blouse over the top of her dress. He bit at his bottom lip. He was really going to owe her for this.
Jensen edged closer and his downdraft started to play havoc with the garbage, swirling it about and tossing it in the air. Danni turned and glared, waving her arms, her blouse and hair blowing in the wind.
Jensen backed off a little.
He watched as Danni sifted through rubbish, occasionally rearing back and holding her nose and occasionally throwing something out of the dumpster. Suddenly she straightened, one arm held high in the air. She waved the box she was holding at Jensen, somewhat triumphantly, and Jensen figured it was the tape that Jared had left there.
Danni climbed out of the dumpster and then cocked her head quizzically. She waved at him again and pointed behind him.
Jensen looked. A police cruiser, lights flashing, and no doubt siren blaring as well, was headed their way. Jensen scowled at it and then at the security booth; the guard had probably called the police after Danni crashed through the boom gate.
Jensen waited until the cruiser turned onto the gravel of the Drive-in and then flew straight at him, low and fast. The cruiser came to a halt as the driver was blinded by thick dust and flying gravel. Danni’s Celica went shooting by. The cruiser tried to inch backwards so Jensen went and sat right on top of him, ensuring that he was enveloped completely in the dust and grit blown up by Jensen’s downdraft. Danni wasn’t wasting any time. Instead of driving on the roadway, around the outside of the Drive-in, she went straight down the middle, in between all the speakers and over the mounds that separated each row. The speed she was going, she got airborne every time and Jensen couldn’t help grinning. She would’ve given the Duke boys a run for their money, that’s for sure.
When he thought he’d given Danni enough of a head start, Jensen took off after her.
The cop took off too, so Jensen swooped again and this time the driver lost control when Jensen dusted him and crashed into the Drive-in’s fence.
Jensen flew after Danni again, following her onto the freeway and shadowing her from the sky, ready and willing to take on anyone who tried to stop her.
What he hadn’t counted on was someone coming to try and stop him. Jensen was so focused on Danni that it took him an unacceptably long time to realize that he was being flanked by two police helicopters, both with heavily armed tactical response officers in the rear.
He recognized Joe Yazzie piloting the bird on his left and Caroline Chikezie piloting the bird on his right. Jensen couldn’t help smiling. The squad Jim had put together was nothing if not diverse. Chikezie tapped on her helmet and Jensen switched back to radio.
“Hello, Chikezie,” he said, “Hey, have you heard the one about the white man, the black woman and the Navajo man who went up in three helicopters?”
Chikezie’s sigh was audible. “Yeah,” she said. “It ends with the white man coming in quietly.”
Jensen smiled. “Not in the version I know.”
“Ackles,” Chikezie’s voice was deadly serious. “I got two SWAT boys in the back and orders to hold this bird steady and let them shoot at you. Don’t make me do that, Jensen.”
“Whatever happens,” Jensen said, “I’m not gonna hold it against you or Yazzie.”
“No. Hang on,” Jensen heard Chikezie say, her voice muffled. “Let me keep trying, just for a little while longer.”
“Caroline,” he said gently. “I’m not coming in. There’s more going on than you know about.”
“I know,” she said. “We all know about Jared. Sweetheart…whatever he did, however threatened it made you feel, we all know you didn’t mean to hit him with your car-”
“I didn’t hit him with my car!” Jensen hissed into his headset. “That was them! They’re trying to kill both of us!”
Joe Yazzie finally spoke. “Who’s ‘they’?” his voice rumbled over the radio.
Jensen laughed shortly. “It doesn’t matter. Either you’re gonna see proof in a few hours or I’m gonna be dead. Jared too probably. The less you know the better. Fewer loose ends to tie up.”
“Jensen,” Chikezie said softly.
“I know how it sounds,” Jensen said. “But I’m not crazy, Caroline. And I’m not coming in.”
There was a long moment of silence and then Chikezie said, “My team just received the go ahead to fire on you.”
Jensen glanced at the SWAT boys and saw them preparing their weapons.
“They got rocket launchers?” Jensen asked. “Because if they don’t, y’all might wanna watch out for the ricochet.”
Chikezie moved her bird a little further away and Jensen watched passively as several rounds bounced harmlessly off Blue Thunder’s armor plating.
“Sorry about this, Caroline,” he said, switching on the weapon’s guidance capability of his Harrison Fire Control Helmet. Jensen turned to look at Chikezie’s tail and then fired the electric cannon, taking out the tail rotor.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” Chikezie immediately began executing emergency landing procedures.
“Sorry,” Jensen said again.
He didn’t get a response, but then he didn’t expect one. Chikezie was too busy trying not to crash.
“That was cold, Ackles,” Yazzie said. “I sure hope you ain’t expecting a Christmas card from anyone in Air Support this year.”
“Your guys gonna shoot at me too?” Jensen asked, taking off at speed.
The SWAT guys in Yazzie’s chopper starting shooting at Jensen, trying to take out his tail, and he had to pull off some pretty fancy flying to avoid being hit.
“Hey, Yazzie?” he said into his headset. “Follow my leader.”
He swooped low into the LA River drain, tilting the chopper this way and that to avoid SWAT’s bullets, skimming along just above the water and taking Blue Thunder beneath the bridges that spanned the drain.
High above them, Jensen spotted the red KBLA TV helicopter, with a crew filming the helicopter chase.
“I hope you don’t think you’re gonna lose me,” Yazzie said. “This is just like flying the canyons back home.”
Jensen switched on his rear video monitor so that he could watch Yazzie flying behind him. Joe was an excellent pilot and Jensen didn’t think he did have a lot of hope of losing him or forcing him to land. One of the marksmen was trying to move forward, hanging precariously out of the door and Jensen banked left, hard, knowing that Yazzie would follow suit.
Jensen sniggered as the marksmen fell out of the chopper, from a height of about ten feet. Jensen watched him roll, then stand up and stomp his foot; nothing broken from the look of it, just a severely bruised ego.
“Looks like you lost a passenger, Joe,” Jensen said. He watched in his video monitor as Yazzie touched down to pick up the tactical officer, and then he hit turbo boost, hoping to outfly Yazzie and catch up with Danni. He shot past the KBLA helicopter and then watched in the monitor as they went in for a closer look at the chopper down on the ground.
Jensen could hear Yazzie yelling at them over his headset, telling them to get out of the way, that they were interfering with a police pursuit.
It gave Jensen the time he needed to get away and he was soon flying over the freeway again, looking for Danni.
--
Danneel had lost track of Jensen some time back, but she was currently cop-free and her car radio was blasting out Eye of the Tiger, so Danni was happy. She tapped her hand against the steering wheel, her eyes glancing frequently into her rearview mirror, as she sang along with Survivor: “It's the eye of the tiger, It's the thrill of the fight, Risin' up to the challenge, Of our rival, And the last known survivor, Stalks his prey in the night, And he's watching us all with the, Eye of the tiger.” It was a great track for offensive driving and Danni was initially pissed when KIIS-FM interrupted the song to inform her breathlessly that there was some sort of aerial helicopter battle going on in the skies above Los Angeles.
“We’re getting reports,” said the DJ, “that an LAPD Air Support Officer has stolen a state-of-the-art helicopter that was being tested here in LA in preparation for potential anti-terrorist measures that may become necessary if next year’s Olympics are the target of a terrorist attack. We’ve been speaking to KBLA’s Daniel Hewitt who is reporting live from the KBLA helicopter. Daniel what more can you tell us?”
“Good morning, Linda. It’s been like something out of the war here in the skies over Los Angeles today. We’ve already seen one police helicopter shot down by a man who we understand is a Vietnam veteran, currently under psychiatric care.”
“Goodness me!” gushed Linda the DJ, and Danneel rolled her eyes. “Scary stuff, Daniel.”
“It certainly is, Linda. Our sources in the police department won’t give us the man’s name, but they do tell us that he was recently cleared for flight status by a police psychologist following a flashback he experienced a month ago while flying that almost resulted in a crash and then, just one week ago, he actually did crash, down in Willowbrook.”
“And after all that, he was still cleared to fly?” Linda the DJ sounded thoroughly scandalized. “Well I bet somebody’s regretting that decision right about now.”
Danni glared at the radio. “Assholes,” she said. “You have no idea what’s really going on, but don’t let that stop you from reporting!”
“Oh!” said Daniel Hewitt. “A SWAT officer has just fallen from one of the police helicopters. He’s alright. Obviously not injured, but the police helicopter has broken off the chase to go back for him. ”
Danni sniggered. “Lucky break there, Jensen.”
She glanced back at her rearview mirror and her eyes widened as she spotted a police cruiser working its way up through the traffic toward her, without its lights or sirens going.
“Dammit!” Danni put her foot down and began to weave from lane to lane, veering in between cars and generally pissing off all the drivers around her. The police cruiser gave up on stealth mode and switched to lights and sirens.
Much to Danni’s consternation, the other drivers started to get out of the police car’s way.
“What the Hell?” Danni yelled. “What’s with the polite driving? Is this LA or Vancouver?”
She cut in front of a yellow minivan, causing it to swerve into the next lane and collide with a navy blue Pontiac Grand Prix. “Oops,” she ducked her head and waved apologetically. “Sorry. My bad.”
The cruiser made it around the accident just fine and was suddenly right beside her.
“Pull over,” the officer shouted over the loud-hailer, waving his arm toward the emergency lane.
Danni realized, with a horrible nauseous sinking feeling, that it was all over. Jensen had been relying on her to get the tape to KBLA and she’d let him down.
She slowed down and then changed lanes, coming to a stop in the emergency lane, right at the apex of the bridge.
Danny couldn’t help pouting. She wound down her window and then sat in the car with her hands on the steering wheel and waited while two police officers advanced on her with their guns drawn.
“Is there a problem Officer?” she said in her best sultry voice as one of them approached her window.
“Oh yeah, there’s a problem alright. I need to see your license and registration, ma’am.”
Danni let her eyes widen and her bottom lip drop. “Oh,” she said. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Is it okay if I reach for my purse?”
“Go ahead.”
The other police officer had gone around to the other side of the car and was peering in through the passenger side window. Danni stuck her tits out when she leaned forward to pick up her purse and did her very best ‘ditzy woman’ act. She held her purse on her lap and began to rummage through it.
“Uh. It’s in here somewhere,” she said. “Or maybe I left it in my other purse?”
“Alright, ma’am,” said the cop, opening her door. “Why don’t you step out of the car?”
Danni pouted up at him and then her eyes widened as a big, black helicopter rose from behind the bridge’s railing.
“What the Hell?” said the cop, holding a hand up to shield his face from the chopper’s downdraft.
Jensen’s face grinned out at Danni from the helicopter’s cockpit and Danni smiled back at him before slamming her car door and taking off.
She heard a shout behind her, the bang of car doors shutting, and then it was lights and sirens again. Danni looked in her rearview mirror just in time to see the back half of the police cruiser separate from the rest of the car and burst into flames.
“Omigod!” she whispered, her eyes widening. Jensen had done that. He’d torn the cruiser in two with the helicopter’s cannon-like gun. She watched in disbelief as the front part of the cruiser slid all over the road, out of control, hitting a bus and finally crashing into the bridge’s guard railing. She didn’t see where the back of the car ended up.
As Danni came off the freeway she picked up a motorcycle cop, but Jensen was onto him in a flash, sitting on top of him with the chopper and causing so much wind that he couldn’t keep the bike upright and ended up sliding on his side down the road.
With no-one in pursuit any more, Danni slowed down and started obeying the road rules. She headed steadily toward KBLA TV with Jensen watching her six, once again ready, willing and able to shoot down or otherwise deal with anyone who tried to interfere.
When she got to the square grey office building with the giant 8 out the front, she parked the car with two wheels up on the curb and then ran for the front door. She stopped on the steps and waved at Jensen. He was too far away for her to see if he waved back, but he pulled away as she pushed open KBLA’s front door and made her way into the crowded reception area.
One beleaguered receptionist and one security guard were struggling to cope with a mob of thirty or forty people, all clamoring for attention.
“Excuse me, Sir?” she said to the security guard, “I have to get this tape to Megalyn Echikunwoke.”
“Take a number, Lady; we’re a little busy right now.”
“But this is important,” Danni said firmly, waving the tape at him. “It’s from Jensen Ackles.”
The security guard snorted. “I don’t care if it’s from the President. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a crazy man in a hijacked combat helicopter flying over LA and everybody’s got a story to tell us. You’ll have to take a seat and wait your turn.”
Danni scowled and was about to give the guard a piece of her mind when a grey-haired, grey-eyed man in a suit appeared at her elbow.
“Miss?” he said. “Did I overhear you saying that that tape is from Jensen Ackles?”
Danni looked at the man suspiciously. There was something about his smarmy voice and the glint in his eyes that made her reluctant to trust him.
“Who wants to know?” she demanded, putting a hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes.
The man smiled in a way that he probably thought was charming and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m Dick Fisher, Megalyn’s producer. I can take that for you, if you like? Save you the bother of having to hang around and wait.”
“No thanks,” Danneel said coolly. “Jensen wanted me to put it in Megalyn’s hands myself.”
Dick’s smile got even smarmier. “Well now, I’m sure Jensen didn’t realize just quite how chaotic it was going to be down here. I am, as I said, Megalyn’s producer. And I can take care of that for you.” He held his hand out expectantly.
Danneel scowled at him. “And I am, as I said, going to give this to Megalyn myself.”
“Hi,” said a voice from behind. “I’m Megalyn Echikunwoke. Are you the one with the tape from Jensen Ackles?”
Danneel turned and watched with relief as a dark-skinned woman with shoulder length black curly hair came down the red metal stairs and into the reception area. She was wearing a dark green pants suit with a frilly white blouse and black stilettos and Danni recognized her immediately from her nightly news broadcasts.
“Yes,” Danni said. “Megalyn. Hi. It’s so good to meet you. I guess it’s true what they say about the camera adding ten pounds,” she gasped. “Oh, sorry. That was rude. Was that rude? Jensen sometimes says I have no filter, which is probably just as well because his filter is more like a plug and if we were both like him we’d never communicate. And I’m rambling. It’s been a tough day.” Danneel held the tape out to Megalyn. “Here. Your producer wanted me to give it to him, but-”
“Who?” Megalyn interrupted.
Danneel gestured at Dick who was still standing beside her. “Your producer,” she repeated.
Megalyn drew herself up and glowered down at Dick. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life, uh,” she glanced at Danni, “what’s your name?”
“Danneel. Danni.”
Megalyn smiled. “Danni. Come on, let’s go.” She put an arm around Danneel and began to guide her toward the stairs.
“Not so fast, Ladies,” Dick said. “That’s government property.” He lunged for the tape and grabbed at it, initiating a tug of war with Danni.
“Let go, you asshole!” Danni cried.
Megalyn stomped on his foot with a stiletto heel and then let loose with a karate yell and a head high roundhouse kick that knocked Dick on his ass.
“Max!” Megalyn called out to the security guard who had seen what was happening and was rising to his feet. “Could you take out the trash, please?”
“Gladly,” the guard scowled down at Dick.
“He said he was called Dick,” Danni offered.
Megalyn sniggered. “Oh I’m sure he gets called that a lot. C’mon, Danni,” Megalyn led Danneel up the staircase. “Show me what you’ve brought.”
“Megalyn?” Danni said as they headed upstairs. “That was awesome! Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Megalyn grinned. “College. The African Women’s Collective ran a series of self-defense classes for members after a spate of sexual assaults that the college just didn’t want to deal with.”
“Oh,” Danni said. “Which college?”
“UCLA.”
“Jensen and I went there too. ’65 to ’68.”
“I was there ’75 to ’78.”
Danni shook her head. “Sounds like the culture on campus was still the same. I always think it’s going to get better, but it never does. Not in college and not in the community.”
“It will,” Megalyn said confidently. “I’m sure my daughter will be safe to walk the streets at night and that she’ll get equal pay. Heck, she might even be President.”
Danni shook her head. “I wish I shared your optimism.”
Megalyn opened a door into a room filled with tape decks and video montiors.
“So how old is your daughter?” Danni asked as Megalyn put the tape in a video player.
“She’s only an abstract concept at this point. But we’re planning on a couple of kids sometime in the next few years. How about you? Do you have kids?”
Danni smiled. “I have a seven year old son.”
“You think you’ll have any more?”
“I doubt it,” Danni screwed up her nose. “I’d have to find a good man if I wanted any more.”
Megalyn frowned. “Oh. I thought…you and Jensen?”
“Me and Jensen? No. He’s…” Danni broke off. “He’s just a good friend.”
Megalyn inclined her head, as if she understood what Danni had almost said.
She logged into a computer and brought up some sort of media-playing program.
“Do you know what’s on this tape?” Megalyn asked.
Danni nodded. “Sort of. It’s about what’s going on up there,” she nodded skywards.
Megalyn stared at her. “You mean…is Jensen Ackles the LAPD officer who’s piloting that hijacked helicopter?”
Danni licked at her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “And he’s not crazy. I don’t know exactly what’s on that tape, because he wouldn’t tell me, but I do know it’s got something to do with high level corruption and attempted murder. It’s gonna be a huge story.”
“Well then,” said Megalyn. “Let’s take a look.”
And she hit the play button.
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