Chapter Three
By BBI Cragrat
Location: The Fillmore, San Francisco Time: 21:55 PST (12:55 EST) Tuesday December 21
34:55 minutes remaining
"Drive careful, we don't want to break two hearts";, Rawhide mugged a coy wink over the small screen of the go-phone before signing off.
Big Norse smiled to herself and stowed her phone in the chest pocket of her red institute issue winter parka. Walking from the side entrance of the Fillmore towards Hotrod waiting in the parking lot at the grey-brown hummer that the crew affectionately called, "The Beast." The freshly fallen snow crunched beneath her feet as more thick wet flakes fell onto her long blonde hair.
Seeing his driving companion approaching, Hotrod climbed inside squeezing his bulky parka covered frame into the passenger seat amidst the multiple lcd monitors, keyboards, scientific and navigation equipment cluttering up the whole vehicle. He looked over through the open door at the approaching Big Norse, "You sure you don't want me to drive?"
Big Norse just smiled and pressed the keyless remote starter. The Beasts diesel engine roared, the digital dashboard blinking on bathing the inside of the vehicle a dull red and blue. "I think I can handle it. Where I come from it's winter driving all year round." Her smile grew wider, "You just worry about navigating."
Hotrod thought about it for a second, a Florida native snow was not his idea of fun. "Can't argue with a lady."
Big Norse climbed into the drivers seat brushing away the accumulated snow in her hair while Hotrod got busy with turning on the communications gear and setting their course on navigation computer. "Traffic looks bad, lots of accidents. Looks like the Golden gate bridge is closed."
Seatbelt on, door closed one hand on the wheel the other on the gearshift Big Norse nodded. "Lets drive!" Swiftly putting the vehicle into gear it lunged forward, as if bored and eagerly awaiting the chance to escape its confines. After seven straight days manning the World Watch communications centre (WWC) on the bus The Beast's actions mirrored Big Norse's anticipation, "Finally some action!"
Backstage the sound and light crews were busy getting ready for the next act while trying to look professional and steal glances at Buckaroo and the Hong Kong Cavaliers standing just off stage waiting to go on. The Crazy Cats were just slightly louder than the crowd screaming along with them.
An elastic band whizzed past Perfect Tommy's perfectly crafted hair,
"HEY! WATCH IT! A fella could loose an eye!" Holding his guitar in one hand he checked to make sure his hair was still, well, perfect. The mood of the band was boisterous. Excited by the mission ahead. All instruments were tuned and ready to play. The few minutes before going on stage were always electric. The rhythms that would chart the course and set their internal beat for the next two hours were infusing the band. The implicit trust between them, brought about by there shared experiences and the countless times they had saved each other's lives (except Perfect Tommy who did keep a running total), made them into more than just a world class musical group. They were the closest friends that could be found without the aid of a particle accelerator and super glue. The portly stage manager wearing an "Experiment in D Minor" tour shirt gave the contemplative Buckaroo the three minutes to show time signal. In acknowledgment he nodded his head. On stage beneath the bright stage lights the Cats were winding down their last encore with their hit single, "Why can't you what" a fast paced drum and guitar tribute to the lead singers dear departed mother.
Being careful not to ruffle the stage curtain, trip over a cable or a person on the busy side stage, Peggy shouldered here way past the verbally sparring Perfect Tommy and Tommy Boy, smiling in amusement as she slipped her arm around Buckaroo's waist and whispered something in his ear. A rye smile quickly came to his lips and his currently grey - green eyes twinkled mischievously as he bent over and kissed Peggy on the crown of her short blonde hair. "Hold the fort while I'm gone. We'll be moving fast once were done here. We need every second, this weather has me worried. It' going to be a tight squeeze to Carson City."
Following in Peggy's wake Pinky Caruthers pushed his way into the group stepping on Reno's foot as he fumbled to attach his go-phone to his waist belt beneath his very bright yellow plaid jacket. "Speaking of tight squeezes, I just got of the phone with Mrs. J. GoldDigger and CatClaws reported in from Venezuela. It looks like they were able to save the village from the volcanic eruption using that new gizmo. Only problem was by diverting the flow of the lava the whole place was circled by a hot black twenty-foot high wall and the whole place is beginning to flood because of the heavy rain!"
"Oh, man. When it rains it pours." rolling his eyes, Perfect Tommy summed it up first.
The unflappable Pinky continued, unflustered by the interruption. "The whole area is cut off, no food and the high mountains leave no way in or out until the rain stops."
Rawhide scratched his unshaven chin, "Sounds like a ripe conditions for a watermelon drop. If it floods they can float on em, if it doesn't they can eat em".
Buckaroo chuckled, "Peggy contact Mrs. J, I'm sure she's doing what she can but maybe you can help out. See if you can find any Blue Blazes down there who can lend a hand." Looking around his small circle of friends he could see their concentration on the nights performance being directed elsewhere in though of their compatriots in need of help.
The Crazy Cats finished their last song with a flourish, all the while the crowd hollered in appreciation. The edge of their hunger sated by the appetizer. They were ready for the main course. The stage manager momentarily caught Reno's attention and gave the one-minute count down signal.
Buckaroo picked his guitar up from the nearby stand and let Peggy slip a kiss on his cheek as she escaped back into the wings of the stage. "One thing at a time boys.... and girls. One thing at a time. Right now lets give these people what they came here for." An unspoken command passed between them all as they readied their instruments, all nervousness and tension dropping to be replaced by an intense focus rarely seen outside of elite military units. On stage the MC unheard above the exuberant noise of the crowd announced the next act. Buckaroo let his gaze drift from friend to friend. They were up to the task. He nodded his head and grinned in expectation, "One thing at a time."
The stage manager frantically waved at them to get on stage as a deafening roar erupted from the audience, screaming himself hoarse the MC could just be heard above the din, "and here they are! The band you've been waiting for! Buckaroo Banzai and the Hong Kong Cavaliers!"
Time: 01:00 EST (34:50 minutes remaining)
