[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
As Diamond circled the ice rink atop the five mile-an-hour Zamboni, Nick and Styx rocketed down the mountain at top speed, in pursuit of Dr. Rough and Drums.

The snow was moving by so quickly, it was taking all of Nick’s concentration to avoid slamming the sled into a snow bank, as he struggled to learn the pulley controls of the bobsled. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse in front of him, a blur of movement. He was sure it was Dr. Rough.

“Lower!” Nick shouted, as best he could, back to Styx. He knew that, in order to move faster, they needed to become more aerodynamic. He crouched low, but not too low – he needed to see where he was going, in order to avoid the fast approaching walls of snow and ice. “We need to get closer!” he shouted, as he let go of the pulley fast enough to grasp one of the two guns he had on himself. Before he could bring it within usable range, he dropped it into his lap, in order to grab the pulleys, so he could turn again.

“Yikes, it looks easier than this on TV!” Nick shouted, unsure if Styx could hear him.

“Not so bad!” Styx shouted into his ear.

That’s because you’re sitting behind me, Nick thought.

The sled carrying Dr. Rough and Drums in his Sasquatch suit came closer. “Ha!” Nick laughed to himself. He was gaining on them and was soon going to be in range. Timing it so that he was on a straight path before he acted, Nick pulled his Beretta from his lap, glad he hadn’t lost his favorite gun when the sled had lurched, and quickly popped a few shots towards the sled in front.

Nick could not hear anything, but he watched Drums’s hand fly to his head, and he thought he could see some red come away. He had a handle on the controls now, and it was a smooth movement to turn and then aim his gun. Squeezing the trigger, he was frustrated when only one bullet fired, missing the lead sled wide, as they reached another turn and curved away from the bullet.

“Styx, can you reach your gun?” Nick yelled.

“No, no room!” the answer came back.

Nick knew that he wouldn’t be able to reach his spare pistol without losing complete control of the sled, but perhaps Styx would be able to manipulate his way to Nick’s waist to grab the gun. “Grab my other gun at my hip!” he bellowed.

He could feel Styx fumble around, groping him in attempts to get the gun.

“We tell no one of this!” he shouted, embarrassed by what was transpiring in the sled.

“I got it!” Styx yelled. He could feel the gun sliding from his waist and Styx’s arm slowly moving forward, towards his own hand.

“Hand it over!” Nick wanted to be the one to fire, the one to take these evildoers down.

“I can make the shot!” Styx yelled back. “You worry about driving; I don’t want this to end up like most of your missions where you drive!”

Nick grumbled under his breath. He was too busy to retort, but he would make his junior partner pay for that remark, after they got their victory here.

“Shitballs!” Nick shrieked. With Styx leaning on his left shoulder from grabbing his gun, his arm was hindered and unable to pull fast enough to make the left-hand turn. The sled lurched heavily, and the two passengers were jerked around, Nick’s head slamming into Styx’s arm.

Able to recover, Nick noticed Dr. Rough’s and Drum’s sled slowing ahead of them. “Take the shot” he hollered.

“Fuck!” came the voice from behind. “The gun was knocked out of my hand during that last turn!”

Nick leaned further into the sled, attempting to move closer; maybe he could slam into their sled and stop them. When they were in range again, Dr. Rough’s arm rose up out of the sled and lobbed something small and black backwards, in their direction. Before he could react appropriately, another black object flew towards them, and Nick felt it fall into the small space between his back and Styx’s lap.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Looks like a… penguin…” Styx replied in confusion. A blast some feet away sent snow flying into their faces. “Shit, they’re grenades!”

“Toss it!” Nick growled, the snow disrupted from the first blast gaining on them.

It was apparent that Styx had followed the command when the second grenade exploded only a few feet away, its debris joining with the snow from the first blast. The ground seemed to shake, long after the blast, and Nick was suddenly aware of a roaring, rumbling sound from further up the mountain.

When he chanced a glance over his shoulder, catching Dr. Rough and Drums was no longer on his mind. An avalanche was close behind, and getting caught in that would be more deadly than being trapped in a pool filled with sharks with giant laser beams on their heads.

The tall snowdrifts on either side of them suddenly disappeared, and Nick could see blue sky and… “No, no, no!” Nick shook his head. “CLIFF!!”

Thinking quickly, he leaned heavily into the left turn. “Lean left!” Nick screamed. He knew Styx had followed suit when the sled tipped over. With the speed of the crash, Nick and Styx were flung from the sled, their landing cushioned by several feet of snow.

Fighting the white powder, Nick scrambled to his feet quickly and grabbed Styx by the sleeve. Together, they ran towards a rock outcrop. Ducking behind it, Nick looked back down the mountain, pissed that Dr. Rough and Drums would get away again.

He watched as they finally looked back and saw the avalanche approaching them. Dr. Rough, unable to tear his eyes away from the impending doom, missed the last turn at the end of the makeshift snow track, and their sled slammed into a snow bank. Nick couldn’t help but cringe as he witnessed their bodies, thrown up and out of the sled, soaring over the snow bank that formed the edge off the cliff.

The last thing he saw was one of the Sasquatch’s blue mittens flying over the side of the mountain, before the roar of the avalanche filled his ears, and the surge of snow cascaded down around them.


± ± ±


In the bowels of the Pacific Coliseum, Lancy’s jaw dropped open as his nemesis turned into the light.

"MIGA?!”

“Miga looove bomb!” chirped the orca bear in a high, squeaky voice, holding up a detonator stick. The Olympic mascot stepped aside to reveal Yu-Na, cowering behind him with the dynamite still strapped to her chest. “Miga drop this, girl go BOOM!” A psychotic laugh bubbled from within the cheerful mascot head.

“You’re not Miga!” cried Lancy, pointing a trembling, accusatory finger at the costumed character. “Miga loves snowboarding and salmon jerky, not explosives and international terrorism! Who are you really??”

With its free hand, the orca bear slowly lifted its black and white head to reveal…

Lancy blinked. He cocked his head at the long, narrow face poking out of the top of the Miga costume. “No seriously, who are you??” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“The name’s not Miga,” growled the mystery man. “It’s Moffatt. Bob Moffatt.”

“Moffatt?” Lancy turned the name over on his tongue. Suddenly, it rang a bell. “Oh! You mean Moffatt, as in that lame nineties boyband that was a less successful rip-off of Hanson?”

“That’s the one. Only we’re not just a lame nineties boyband anymore,” Bob said darkly. “Now we work for FANS.”

“Ahh, I see, I see!” Lancy flapped his hands a little in excitement. “You didn’t have any actual fans of your own left, so you decided to join the terrorist league that uses the word FANS as its acronym. Not really the same thing, but whatevs – close enough, right? You put on that concert here in Canada that spread the FANthrax virus, didn’t you? Sooo not cool!”

“Shut up!” snapped Bob. “I know you; you work for Himitsu Takana. Drums told us about you.”

“Ah, my dear sweet Drums,” sighed Lancy, his insides all aflutter. “How is my favorite bad boy? All wounded and brooding, with those washboard abs and that tight little ass…”

“You’re not even a real agent, you queer. You’re 00Carter’s secretary. And you think you can stop me and the great Dr. Rough? What are you gonna do, make me sneeze with your pretty pink flower?”

“Let her go,” snarled Lancy.

“Nooo, I don’t think I’m gonna do that,” Bob taunted, as Yu-Na looked fearfully between them, trembling from head to foot. “Let’s go, come on,” he snapped suddenly, giving her a rough shove. “Let’s go! Move it, move it! You stay,” he added sharply, pointing his detonator at Lancy.

Lancy hesitated, flower in hand, but he was afraid to squirt it, afraid of making Bob drop the detonator and blow his precious Kimmy to bits.

“Move it, move it! In that door. In that door NOW!” Bob pushed Yu-Na through a door, and as he disappeared through it behind her, he called, “Bye, Lancybassy!”

Lancy charged after him, into a stairwell and up the concrete steps. He pushed through a second door, which led to the main concourse, filled with spectators in line for the concession stand and restrooms. The man in the Miga costume was quickly swallowed up by the crowds, but Lancy heard screams ahead and knew he was headed in the right direction.

People stared as the flamboyant, frosted-haired man in the hot pink parka went lolloping by, his hands flapping like fairy wings on the ends of his limp wrists, but Lancy paid no attention to anyone, until he noticed a flash of red and white out of the corner of his eye. He reeled to a stop and did a double take, his eyes lighting up at what he saw.

“Ohmygod!” he cried, bounding towards the man in the red and white warm-up suit emblazoned with the Canadian maple leaf. “Is that a luge you’re holding?!”

The man nodded, giving the sled that was tipped against his legs a little nudge with his foot. “I’m Sam Edney, from the Canadian luge team,” he said, sporting a winning smile. “Would you like an autograph?”

“Well, duh I’d like one, for my Olympics scrapbook,” gushed Lancy, “but actually, first I just need to borrow your luge for one teensy minute, okay?” Without waiting for a reply, Lancy swooped down and snatched the sled. “Cool beans, thanks! I’ll bring it straight back – pinkie promise!” With his free hand, he hooked his pinkie around the stunned luger’s and then scampered off, the luge tucked under one arm.

Bob and Yu-Na must have been far ahead of him by now. Lancy grew more and more desperate as he jogged through the increasingly narrow and deserted corridor that curved around the Coliseum. He would never catch up to them in time, and what if they decided to duck out one of the exits?

Then he heard a resounding chorus of screams bouncing off the walls of the skating rink and knew they had not left the venue.

Inside the arena, Diamond rested her chin on her hand and sighed with boredom, as the Zamboni continued to circle the ice at a steady six miles an hour. Twangy music blared over the sound system, and up until then, the spectators had been singing along. “I wanna drive the Zamboni… Yeah, I wanna drive the Zamboni… Yes, I do…”

Her phone started to vibrate inside her back pocket, and Diamond shifted her weight to slide it out. Checking the screen, she found a text from Pearl, which read: What’s the hold up?? The commentators are running out of things 2 talk abt!

Dunno, Diamond texted back. Still waiting on Lancy.

Txt him & tell him 2 hurry up!

Will do. Diamond was in the process of firing off another text message to Lancy, when she heard the screams. She looked up in time to see one of the Olympic mascots, without its head, dragging the captive figure skater up the steps in one of the aisles. Where r u? she texted rapidly and pressed send.

As his phone vibrated in his skinny jeans, Lancy darted through the nearest entrance into the arena and gazed down over the rows of seats. All around him, people were filling the aisles, swarming for the exits. He looked around wildly for the source of the panic. At last, he spotted the headless mascot, some three sections down, handcuffing Yu-Na to a railing. Down on the ice, Diamond perched like a pin-up model on the Zamboni, her legs crossed, jiggling one skate impatiently. When she looked up and saw Lancy, she waved.

Kimmy or Diamond… He had to choose. Tutting with frustration, Lancy took off, moving down the steps instead of across the aisles. He reached the barrier separating the bottom row of seats from the ice and leap-frogged over it, still carrying the luge. This he held to his chest, and with a running leap, he slipped and slid down onto it, rocketing across the ice towards the Zamboni on the sleek sled.

“I can always count on you, Lancy!” beamed Diamond, as a battered and breathless Lancy, swaying slightly with dizziness, held up the luge.

They worked together quickly, knotting rope around the end of the luge and securing it to the front of the Zamboni. “Ohmygod, you are insane,” Lancy told Diamond, as she lay down on the luge.

Diamond flashed a dazzling grin. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Okay, Di, this is it. Don’t get dead!” pleaded Lancy, and he pushed the luge underneath the Zamboni. “Keep it steady!” he called to the Zamboni operator, who responded with a nod and a thumbs up. Moving back out of the way, Lancy wrung his hands and watched nervously as Diamond fumbled with the underside of the Zamboni.

“Okay, we’re gonna have to try to bypass the remote current with the battery.” Pearl’s voice came through the Bluetooth piece in Diamond’s ear. “Can you find the tripwire for the remote?”

“I dunno – I’ve got a few choices here,” said Diamond, fingering the colored wires hooked to the bomb.

“Black and red?”

“And green.”

“Okay… alright, uh… I’m gonna guess he’s not gonna go with standard copper for the remote; that’d be too weak. I’d use a fiber alloy,” said Pearl. “Uh, Di, I’m gonna need you to look at the wire.”

“Pearl, it’s covered!”

“Yeah, I know. You’re gonna have to cut off the sheath. But don’t cut the wire!”

“Right.” Diamond reached down to her pocket and slid out her manicure scissors. With little space to work between the ice and the Zamboni, she began to carefully slice away the covering of one of the wires, as Lancy fretfully looked on.

A flash of black and white in his peripheral vision caused him to turn his head, just in time to duck a flying fist, as Miga – or, Bob – came sliding towards him. “You!” screamed Bob. “You try to mess with my master’s work? I don’t think so! I’m coming for you, Lancybassy!”

Lancy scrambled across the ice, his feet slipping and sliding. Behind him, Bob was not having much better luck. The remaining spectators froze in their tracks and watched as the awkward chase ensued around the skating rink. Lunging for Lancy, Bob fell first, clipping his chin upon the ice. In turning to look over his shoulder, Lancy, too, lost his balance and had a wipeout of his own. Before he could get back on his feet, Bob leaped on top of him, and the two scrabbled around on the ice.

Lancy managed to gain the upper hand, slamming Bob facedown onto the ice and straddling his back. “You picked the wrong man to mess with,” sassed Lancy, as he pulled the other man into a camel clutch, grinding his pelvis into the Bob’s backside as his hands locked around the minion’s straining chin. “I was an all-state wrestling champ in high school. There’s nothing I love more than a heated romp on the floor with a muscular brute in Spandex.” He giggled as he pulled back on Bob’s head, squeezing his torso between his thighs. Bob let out a strangled groan. “Oh yeah… take it, Miga… take it, you little bitch!” Lancy panted, tugging and thrusting at the same time.

“Hey, I’ll drop the stick, fag! You want that?” Bob gasped. Lancy’s moment of hesitation was brief, but it was enough: with a burst of adrenaline, Bob summoned the strength to throw Lancy off him and quickly scrambled to his feet. The chase continued, but now it was Lancy who pursued Bob around the rink.

“Bulls-eye!” Diamond shouted from beneath the Zamboni, once she’d managed to strip the wires.

“Great!” said Pearl. “Okay, I want you to clip on the battery, and then run it to the lead wire.”

“Copy.”

“Shit!” From across the rink, Bob had seen Diamond fiddling with his master’s bomb again, from her perilous position between the wheels of the Zamboni. He charged straight through the center of the ice, his arms windmilling for balance as he skidded wildly, and climbed onto the Zamboni.

Lancy raced after him, knowing that if he managed to throw the driver off, Diamond would quickly be crushed beneath the Zamboni’s wheels – or worse, its blade. In a matter of seconds, he, too, was atop the Zamboni.

“Don’t even try it!” snarled Bob, slamming Lancy down onto the snow tank on the front of the Zamboni. “You know you’re finished, fag!” He clobbered Lancy upside the head with the detonator still clutched in his hand. “I got you! Oh yes!” he hissed, grabbing a hank of Lancy’s artfully spiked bangs. Lancy saw stars of pain as his head was yanked upward and then slammed back again. “Yes! Yes!” shouted Bob, his hands tightening around Lancy’s neck.

The bright arena grew dim, as a black tunnel began to close in on Lancy’s vision. His windpipe was blocked; his chest felt tight with crushing pressure as he fought to breathe. Everything was fading…

Struggling to stay conscious, Lancy grabbed Bob’s wrists with the last of his strength, but it was not enough…

Under the Zamboni, Diamond let out a squee of delight. “I got it! I got it, Pearl; it’s disabled!”

“Good! Now get out of there!” urged Pearl.

“Trust me, I can’t wait. Lancy!” called Diamond. “Lancy, I got it! I’m ready to come out now! Lancy?”

From somewhere faraway, Lancy heard Diamond’s voice. Bob heard it, too, and his grip loosened, allowing a precious breath of air to slip down Lancy’s throat. He turned his head to the side and saw that the Zamboni had reached the end of the rink; it should be about to make its turn, but instead, it was still going straight, heading for the tunnel through which Lancy had first chased Bob. There was a sign mounted at the head of the tunnel, some sort of advertisement.

“What do you do, Lancybassy, huh?” grunted Bob, still struggling on top of Lancy. “What do you do? You’re so smart, right? You think you’re better than us, you queer piece of shit? Well, we’re the ones with the plan, Dr. Rough and his agents, ‘cause we’re smarter than you! We’re smarter than you!”

The sign was looming closer overhead. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Lancy summoned the strength he needed to grab Bob’s chin again and force his head upwards.

It was too late for Bob: He looked up to see the sign coming a split second before it collided with his face, snapping his head backwards on his neck. The force of it knocked him off the Zamboni, and Lancy leaned over the edge of the tank to watch as his body was dragged beneath the wheels of the massive ice resurfacer.

“Hey!” squealed Diamond, as Bob rolled under the Zamboni, knocking into her luge. “Get out; there’s not room under here for two of us!”

Her discomfort was only temporary, though; without a rope to hold him in place, Bob was quickly dragged beneath the blade which shaved the ice. On top of the Zamboni, Lancy felt a sickening bump as the blade severed Bob’s neck. His mangled head bounced out onto the ice like a curling stone.

“Yeah,” said Lancy with a feisty smile, “but I’m taller.” He sat up, snapping his fingers in a circle. Then he heard Diamond’s scream from below.

“Hey! Turn this thing off and get me out from under here! The bomb’s been disabled; it’s okay to stop!”

“You heard the lady,” said Lancy to the driver, and he leapt off the Zamboni as it slowed to a stop and did not explode. He carefully pulled on the rope at the front of the machine, easing Diamond out from under it on her luge. “You were absolutely fabulous, babe,” he gushed as she emerged.

Diamond sat up and shook out her blonde hair. “You were amazing too, hon. I couldn’t have done it without you.” She beamed a smile at Lancy, but the grin had fallen off his face. Instead of exhilarated, he looked flabbergasted. “What?” she demanded.

“Your… your hair…”

“What? Oh yeah…” Diamond combed her fingers through the cropped ends of her blonde hair and bit down on her lip. “Yeah, I think it kind of got cut by the blade there at the end, when that guy bumped into me. How bad is it?”

“It’s… it’s… FABULOUS!” squealed Lancy.

“Really??” Her hands moved to her scalp, fluffing her hair up. “You’re not just saying that?”

Lancy gave her a look. “Would I lie to you, darling? It looks amazeballs! Those layers really frame your face, and hey, Cosmo says the asymmetrical look is in!” He reached into his coat and pulled out his pocket mirror. “See for yourself,” he said, handing it to Diamond.

“Ooh, very chic!” she cooed, admiring her own reflection. “Do you think Nick will like it?”

“He better!” Lancy said fiercely. “Otherwise I might just have to try the camel clutch on him!” He sniffed, and then a mischievous smile spread across his face. “On second thought – I might have to try that one on him anyway…”

“Hey, what about Yu-Na?” asked Diamond, looking around.

Still alive, still handcuffed to the railing, Yu-Na raised one hand as best she could and offered an awkward wave.

“KIMMY!” cried Lancy, temporarily forgetting about how he was going to punish that naughty, naughty Nicky… “Wow, Bob got squished and decapitated, and she still didn’t blow up! Was the detonator a dud?”

Diamond crawled over to Bob’s headless body. The detonator was still clutched tightly in his hand. “No…” she said, inspecting it carefully. “I think his muscles must have contracted when his spinal cord was severed. His hand seized up around the detonator.”

“Lucky…” said Lancy. “We better get Kimmy undone and take that icky contraption off her! I’ll look for the key.” He unzipped the Miga costume and took his time patting down Bob’s pockets, groping nearly every inch of his body in search of the key to the handcuffs. At last, he found the small, silver key tucked underneath Bob’s t-shirt, hanging on a chain around what was left of his neck. He slid the chain effortlessly over the bleeding stump.

“Well,” he sighed to Diamond, looking down at the headless Moffatt. “At least now they’ll be able to tell him apart from his brothers.”


± ± ±