Megans Mark (Breeds 6)

Megan activated the link to Control that Braden had programmed in days before.

"Lance. Lance, where are you? She yelled out the question as she fought the wheel, bouncing over rocks and more than one deep water weathered gully in her race to reach the flat land below.

"Control, this is Deputy Fields. I need a copter in the air ASAP. I repeat, I need a copter in the air, position Area Six-fifteen, Section A, heading to Twenty-four. Two cycles, enemy fire. Come back, Control," Megan yelled into the link as Braden fired behind them.

"Son of a fucking bitch, Megan. " Lance was screaming into the link in less than a second, the fury pounding through his voice bringing a smile to her face. "Copters lifting off in three secs, destination Sixfifteen, A. How many?"

"Two cycles, one Dragoon on the north side of Casper's Pass, approximate pass near twenty-four, R. " She called out the road number she suspected the Dragoon would use to intercept them. "Cycles carrying automatic fire on board,, Dragoon packing launchers. " -

"Get in range, you jackal-assed bastards. " Braden was yelling as he fired, his voice feral, enraged.

"Copter's ETA to intercept three minutes," Lance yelled, the sound of his Raider whining through the link assuring her he was moving fast toward them. "I'm five minutes from your intercept point, copter B

moving in ahead of me. Don't shoot the friendlies, God dammit. "

"Not me, cuz," she yelled back, twisting the wheel as the hollow twang of bullets pelting close to the vulnerable outside security port warned her that they weren't playing with dummies. "Get these bastards off my back. They know my weakness here, Lance. "

"Moving in, Megan. We're moving in. Copter B is closing in fast,'' John Briggins, the department's best pilot, reported in.

"Right!" Braden screamed out the new direction.

Megan threw the wheel to the right, cursing as the Raider jolted, slamming forward from the blast of the minirocket that exploded too damned close.

"Rocket fire. We have fire. Cycles equipped with shortrange rockets, look out for the dust. "

She twisted the wheel, holding down the gas as she and the Raider bounced from the sharp decline to flat terrain.

"Prepare for acceleration. " She hit the button, praying for just a little more. Just enough speed to clear them from the short-range rockets.

"Head for pass two-zero-four," Briggins ordered briskly through the link.

"We're seconds away. Hang on. "

"Fuckers. Sons of bitches. " Braden was cursing furiously as he sprayed gunfire from the back window.

"Those cycles have security shields, Meg. Punch the gas. Punch the gas. "

"Gas out;' she yelled back. The accelerator was dead.

"Lay that foot to the fucking floor. We have one closing in, prepare for fire_ Right. Right. "

She flipped the wheel, curses raging as she felt the rocket fire. Too close. Too fucking close.

"Hang on_" The rocket cleared the vehicle, striking to the side, the resulting explosion throwing the Raider through the air, flipping it, then throwing it back to earth with a bone-jarring force that had Megan seeing stars.

Impact protocol kicked in, the padded levers that suddenly extended from the seats taking the force of the blow and holding them in their seats. But nothing could compensate for the violence, or the jolt.

The Raider landed on its side, tires spinning as she heard a roar. Furious, animal rage. The sound echoed in her head as time seemed to slow down, moving with a distant, ethereal quality that had her fighting to breathe.

She searched desperately for the release control to the seats, grunting as the inflated belt and padded grips released her and dumped her against the passenger side of the vehicle.

Gunfire still raged as she shook her head, fighting to clear it while feeling for her gun.

There. Her fingers curled around the grip as she began to crawl to the opened back window. Braden was no longer in his seat; the security belts had been torn loose of their moorings. She had to find Braden.

And who the hell was roaring?

She fell from the jeep window, her face slapping the ground as her senses fought to right themselves. One of the motorcycles lay on its side, the rider stretched bonelessly on the ground, his neck turned at an