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My Fiction Writing Doctor Who Bellagio Belligerence 12 - To the Rescue
My Fiction Writing Doctor Who Bellagio Belligerence 12 - To the Rescue
12 - To the Rescue
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Kamelion shifted his form to his true self upon hearing his name. "I must ask you how you know my name?" Suddenly, my new pressure point martial arts came in use again, as my hand flashed out to Kamelion's neck, popping open his control panel. My other hand then shot forward and grabbed wires as fast as I could, yanking them out of Kamelion's neck.
Unable to cope with the sudden flux of energy in its system, Kamelion shut down and collapsed on the ground. Anne just stood there, transfixed. "Okay, what just happened, and how did you know how to do that?"
"Get in, I'll try to explain on the way." I jumped into the taxi's driver's seat as Anne dove into the back then climbed over the seat to the front.
"What about him?" asked Anne as I started back up the taxi. With a screech, I took off with the taxi, doing a U-turn through the median to head back to Las Vegas. It is a good thing Las Vegas is pretty flat, as otherwise I would have rolled the taxi at the speed and in the state of control I was in initially.
"He'll be fine. He regenerates." I exclaimed as I pushed my foot all the way to the floorboard. I was sure I was going to pick up an unwanted, but useful, escort very shortly but I did not care. Lives, more than just my half-sister, her stewardess friend, and the alien time traveller, were at stake now.
"Talk, David. I don't like the silent treatment, you know." said Anne.
"Okay, okay, sorry. I'm just focusing on the mission at hand. The robot you just met is named Kamelion, but do not tell the others about him. He's a shapeshifting robot with a conscience. That's why he told us what he knew, as secretly I think he was not happy killing that guy at the Bellagio. He's just not that kind of person."
"How do you know about him, though?" asked Anne.
"Because you know who used him twice. He broke the Master's control for a while, but he finally overcomes the constant reprogramming in the end. Yet another of the Master's many failures to get back at the Doctor." I crossed Tropicana at this point, and thankfully the traffic was down enough so I could weave in and out of traffic. As I suspected, though, by the time I hit Riviera, I had picked up the unwanted escort as I saw the blue and red lights flashing behind me.
"Okay, now with the Redcoats behind us," started Anne.
"They are the men in blue in America," I interrupted.
"Okay, Bluecoats behind us, we aren't going to make it in time," explained Anne.
"Nope. They won't use spike strips in the middle of town with traffic running around. Too dangerous. Of course, they also don't know we're heading to the courthouse." I explained. I passed the Stratosphere at this point, gunning it down the avenue leading to downtown. "Especially along here they won't try and pop our tires, and we are going too fast for them to try the pit maneuver. So, they are going to lay back until the road is clear, but we'll be at the courthouse before then."
Sure enough, we pulled into the area of the courthouse without being stopped, though we now had attracted three trailers and an eye in the sky in the meantime. I'm sure the helicopter was actually the traffic reporter for the noon rush, but they help the police when they can. I warned Anne to hold on, and proceeded to do a bootlegger reverse maneuver, where you turn your car completely around and stop in an arc, right in front of the courthouse.
Shouting at Anne to run to the court and don't stop, I got out of the car and began running as well. The first two police cars stopped in time, but the third car couldn't stop, so ditched to the right and smacked into the fountain recently installed there.
Anne and I made a beeline to the entrance. The security guards, stunned at what they were seeing, reacted and blocked the door. "Sir! Put your hands up. You cannot come in here." The other police officers began to catch up from behind us since we had to stop.
Wheezing a bit, I started, "Officer. Officer, there is a murderer inside." I continued to gasp for breath as the others approached, weapons drawn, but not up to a shooting position yet.
"Of course there is, sir. This is a courthouse. We try murderers all the time. Theives, drunks, and drivers running from the police are here as well." I'm sure the security guard had made that last reference to my very reckless drive coming to the courthouse. The other guard smiled at the response that was given me.
"Not when it is a murderer trying to kill an entire courtroom of people, including the judge and witnesses," I explained. I was getting mad and could not appreciate the actual humor in the moment. The more time wasted trying to talk to the guards and the police was moments wasted to stop the assault that was about to occur.
The police officers had come up behind me and were about to grab my wrist when my statement stopped them. "Which courtroom?" asked one of the officers from behind.
Anne was the one who responded, "Court 12. Judge is named Joseph Plummer. She's going to kill all of them in there." She glanced back and forth between the guards and the police, while I focused all my attention on the guards and the doors beyond them.
"If we are making a joke, good officers, then you can arrest us as your leisure, but if I am not joking, then those people's deaths will be on your hands forever," I stated. The adrenaline rush had finally unlocked my potential, but I did not realize it at the time. I was focusing so hard at the door, that it suddenly opened inward with a loud crack. This startled the officers and guards, and I burst through the guards to the inside.
Anne, much calmer than me at the moment, stayed with the officers. The security guard that had confronted me pulled out his walkie talkie, "Code Green. Code Green. Lock the building. Lock her down, as we have an situation at Courtroom 12."
Security guards scrambled inside. Some moving to the doors, others ushering stragglers into courtrooms for the lockdown in order to protect them. Meanwhile, I had hit the stairs and had gone up a flight to get to courtroom 12. The police officers entered the building with Anne leading them. "If you are wrong, miss, you are going to be in a world of trouble," said the lead officer, weapon now in the ready position.
"He's not wrong."
Unable to cope with the sudden flux of energy in its system, Kamelion shut down and collapsed on the ground. Anne just stood there, transfixed. "Okay, what just happened, and how did you know how to do that?"
"Get in, I'll try to explain on the way." I jumped into the taxi's driver's seat as Anne dove into the back then climbed over the seat to the front.
"What about him?" asked Anne as I started back up the taxi. With a screech, I took off with the taxi, doing a U-turn through the median to head back to Las Vegas. It is a good thing Las Vegas is pretty flat, as otherwise I would have rolled the taxi at the speed and in the state of control I was in initially.
"He'll be fine. He regenerates." I exclaimed as I pushed my foot all the way to the floorboard. I was sure I was going to pick up an unwanted, but useful, escort very shortly but I did not care. Lives, more than just my half-sister, her stewardess friend, and the alien time traveller, were at stake now.
"Talk, David. I don't like the silent treatment, you know." said Anne.
"Okay, okay, sorry. I'm just focusing on the mission at hand. The robot you just met is named Kamelion, but do not tell the others about him. He's a shapeshifting robot with a conscience. That's why he told us what he knew, as secretly I think he was not happy killing that guy at the Bellagio. He's just not that kind of person."
"How do you know about him, though?" asked Anne.
"Because you know who used him twice. He broke the Master's control for a while, but he finally overcomes the constant reprogramming in the end. Yet another of the Master's many failures to get back at the Doctor." I crossed Tropicana at this point, and thankfully the traffic was down enough so I could weave in and out of traffic. As I suspected, though, by the time I hit Riviera, I had picked up the unwanted escort as I saw the blue and red lights flashing behind me.
"Okay, now with the Redcoats behind us," started Anne.
"They are the men in blue in America," I interrupted.
"Okay, Bluecoats behind us, we aren't going to make it in time," explained Anne.
"Nope. They won't use spike strips in the middle of town with traffic running around. Too dangerous. Of course, they also don't know we're heading to the courthouse." I explained. I passed the Stratosphere at this point, gunning it down the avenue leading to downtown. "Especially along here they won't try and pop our tires, and we are going too fast for them to try the pit maneuver. So, they are going to lay back until the road is clear, but we'll be at the courthouse before then."
Sure enough, we pulled into the area of the courthouse without being stopped, though we now had attracted three trailers and an eye in the sky in the meantime. I'm sure the helicopter was actually the traffic reporter for the noon rush, but they help the police when they can. I warned Anne to hold on, and proceeded to do a bootlegger reverse maneuver, where you turn your car completely around and stop in an arc, right in front of the courthouse.
Shouting at Anne to run to the court and don't stop, I got out of the car and began running as well. The first two police cars stopped in time, but the third car couldn't stop, so ditched to the right and smacked into the fountain recently installed there.
Anne and I made a beeline to the entrance. The security guards, stunned at what they were seeing, reacted and blocked the door. "Sir! Put your hands up. You cannot come in here." The other police officers began to catch up from behind us since we had to stop.
Wheezing a bit, I started, "Officer. Officer, there is a murderer inside." I continued to gasp for breath as the others approached, weapons drawn, but not up to a shooting position yet.
"Of course there is, sir. This is a courthouse. We try murderers all the time. Theives, drunks, and drivers running from the police are here as well." I'm sure the security guard had made that last reference to my very reckless drive coming to the courthouse. The other guard smiled at the response that was given me.
"Not when it is a murderer trying to kill an entire courtroom of people, including the judge and witnesses," I explained. I was getting mad and could not appreciate the actual humor in the moment. The more time wasted trying to talk to the guards and the police was moments wasted to stop the assault that was about to occur.
The police officers had come up behind me and were about to grab my wrist when my statement stopped them. "Which courtroom?" asked one of the officers from behind.
Anne was the one who responded, "Court 12. Judge is named Joseph Plummer. She's going to kill all of them in there." She glanced back and forth between the guards and the police, while I focused all my attention on the guards and the doors beyond them.
"If we are making a joke, good officers, then you can arrest us as your leisure, but if I am not joking, then those people's deaths will be on your hands forever," I stated. The adrenaline rush had finally unlocked my potential, but I did not realize it at the time. I was focusing so hard at the door, that it suddenly opened inward with a loud crack. This startled the officers and guards, and I burst through the guards to the inside.
Anne, much calmer than me at the moment, stayed with the officers. The security guard that had confronted me pulled out his walkie talkie, "Code Green. Code Green. Lock the building. Lock her down, as we have an situation at Courtroom 12."
Security guards scrambled inside. Some moving to the doors, others ushering stragglers into courtrooms for the lockdown in order to protect them. Meanwhile, I had hit the stairs and had gone up a flight to get to courtroom 12. The police officers entered the building with Anne leading them. "If you are wrong, miss, you are going to be in a world of trouble," said the lead officer, weapon now in the ready position.
"He's not wrong."
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