“Put the money in the bags and we'll be on our way” the man with the mask and gun said loudly “Nobody has to get hurt!”.
His partner was monitoring the jamming device. Half the customers were probably armed but most weapons were useless while the jammer was running. “Get a move on, Hoss!” he told the big fella who had got everyone's attention.
The terrified clerks stuffed the leather bags with currency cubes. Then a security guard by the back wall tried to pull a gun on them. Lee noted that it was an old-type automatic pistol with a 9-round magazine and not subject to the jamming like the normal energy weapons.
“Look out Hoss!” he yelled as he pulled up his own weapon. The projectiles fired by the security guard were poorly aimed and screamed past his head but his blast went right where the tracking laser said it would. A hole appeared in the center of the guards torso and he flew backward, hitting the wall hard.
Hoss grabbed the leather pouches from the clerks and tapped Lee on the shoulder and they made their way to the door doing their best to keep everyone covered with their guns. You could never be sure in this country who had a gun, it was hard being an armed robber.
Once outside the alarms already began sounding but they threw the bags over their rides and hopped onto the air bikes. As soon as the motors purred to life they lifted off the ground and gunned it away from the bank at top speed. Outside the flow of the normal aerial traffic lanes they zipped through buildings and under bridges.
Hoss started laughing. “That was a good job!”
Lee frowned, it was far too early to start celebrating and no “good job” left a body on the floor.
Moving at about 400 kilometers per hour they probably tripped several speed alarms, even at such low daredevil altitudes. “We need get away from Hauston, get to the desert passed Midessa!” Lee yelled, reiterating their escape route.
By now word of the robbery had spread nationally and their likenesses might have already plugged their identities from the crime computers. Sirens! There was a THP air-car behind them, closing in quickly. Lee activated the jammers that would keep the Texas Highways Patrol vehicle from disabling their air-bikes.
“Yee Haw!” Hoss yelled as he threw something over his shoulder. It arced and then came down squarely on the front of the THP vehicle and exploded. The vehicle careened and then went down toward the ground, crash landing into one of the concrete ravines below.
Lee was a bit shocked, the dang fool had brought explosives! He shook his head and then activated the illegal boost feature on his air-bike. They might actually make the border unmolested, there was no way that traffic cop was going to be able to stop them.
A shadow flew over him. Lee shivered on the inside. He just felt something had suddenly gone very wrong. Looking around and then up he saw a black shape flying past them, it must have been moving at 800 kph, at least. Then it turned facing them and lowered right in their flight paths.
“No! Ohmeegawd!” he heard Hoss scream in surprise, the fool tried to veer out of the way and lost control of the air-bike. It went off to the right while Hoss kept going forward at high speed but lower and lower. Lee was doing everything he could to slow down, looking for a way around the big black vehicle when a turret suddenly rose from its roof.
“Stop or I'll shoot!” the announcement came out of a loudspeaker, but he was only seconds away from slamming into it. Lee veered upward, he heard the blam, blam, blam of a heavy rotary gun. He let go of the bike as large holes appeared and pieces flew off. He fell away and he could see his air-bike explode into a million pieces.
Now he just had time to think about what was going to happen when he hit the ground while moving, oh about 300 miles per hour. He pulled a ripcord on his chest, a small parachute erupted from his back while his clothes expanded into a big ball of air. He would probably survive impact if the law man in the turret didn't cut him in half.
Just as he hit the ground rolling he knew. Lee and his partner, idiot, had been stopped by a Texas Ranger. He had really thought they might hit the border before a Ranger could catch them but it wasn't destined to be. Well, at least prison wasn't so bad, it was a bit like home really.
Hoss could only lay there, battered and bruised next to the flowering cactus. His vision was still off but he saw a blob coming closer. Then he could hear the swush, swush, swush of boots stepping in the sand, louder as it came closer.
“Well if it isn't Hoss Hawg” he heard a voice say “Texas Most Wanted #6. Looking a little pathetic at the moment, though.”
Hoss tried to ask who he was. Was he the military or something?
The man kneeled down. He was wearing boots, jeans, and a black leather duster with a matching hat on his head. “My name is Rocky, I'm a Texas Ranger. You are under arrest, you son of....”. Hoss was unconscious before he had finished.
The badge on his belt was a golden star with a ring around it said: Texas Ranger, Republic of Texas.
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