🚀 go-pugleaf

             < continued from preceding post >

   Half a dozen blocks ahead, the police had indeed arrived
at the Place des Terreaux.   And indeed, there was not much
to be found.  The rain had long-since rinsed away any smoke.
The only indications that anything had happened were the
several auto collisions about the square, with the many
dripping Frenchman arguing over who was at fault.
   A half dozen newly-arrived gendarmes were drawn into the
heated discussions; the others stood about the Bartholdi
fountain, keeping a respectful distance from the inspectors
who were now being interviewed by one of CNN's bombshells.
   "So you have already been acquitted in your cases?"
   "If only it were so," the elderly Nayland Smith ruefully
whispered.  "The very evidence that suggests our innocence
fails to prove it."
   "And what ev --"
   "We are clones!" Inspector Clouseau declared.  "We are
two of several representations of ze legendary Doctor Fu
Manchu!"
   "You are copies???"
   "More likely, improvements," Clouseau asserted.  "Yet it
is true!  It explains my superior knowledge of ze criminal
mind!"
   Smith sighed deeply.  "You would have no idea how such a
conclusion devastated me."

   "Arrest zat man!" Inspector Clouseau shouted suddenly,
pointing across the square.  An American soldier had been
watching the conversation and looked rather alarmed to have
been spotted.  Looking about, he selected one of the several
fender-bender quarrels, and tried to lose himself in the
crowd.
   Three seconds later he reappeared, prominently supported
on the front bumper of a police car that fishtailed onto the
patio and crashed into the fountain.  With a helpless cry,
the soldier flew through the air, striking the hooves of one
of the prancing horses, before splashing into the water.
The first person out of the car was the driver, who raced to
the fountain and began to fish the soldier out.
   "Arrest zat man!" Clouseau repeated.
   "On what grounds?" demanded Vera, as she climbed out.
   "He is hiding somezing!" Clouseau announced.
   Vera looked at him oddly,
then shrugged.  "Take him          "What the --?" muttered
over there."  She pointed at    the CNN sound man.  Tapping
one of the aforementioned       the cameraman's shoulder, he
clusters of gendarmes, then     muttered, "Justin, we have
smiled inwardly as the nosy     problem.  Janice!"  He pulled
reporter was called away.       off his headset as the field
Turning back to the two         reporter approached, annoyed.
inspectors, she asked. "Did        "Can't you see I'm busy?"
you learn anything yet?"        Why aren't we live?"
   "Non, but the villains          The sound man indicated
cannot escape!"                 his head set.  "Somebody's
   "That is for certain.        pirated the channel.  He's
The traffic is out of           literally told us to stop!"
control."                          "During our broadcast?"
   "Au contraire!  It is           The sound man nodded.
fully under control!"              Janice swore and stormed
Clouseau smiled smugly.         back to the police.
   Vera flared.  "You mean --      "Madame Officer!"
WHAT?"  Vera snarled angrily as she turned around.

   Janice gulped at her reflection in Vera's visor and
stepped back a pace.  "I must object.  There is someone
interfering with our broadcast."
   "You are showing this to the world?" Vera bellowed.
   Janice stood defiantly.  "The people have the right to
know!"
   Vera's response was cut short by a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll take care of it," Richard Jackson assured her.  He
walked past the reporter towards her crew, flashing his
wallet at her.  "Richard Jackson, U.S. Army.  Let's talk."
                                   "You have no right to --"
   Vera meanwhile returned         "Let's skip what I can do
her attention to Inspector      and talk about what you do."
Clouseau.  "To be sure I           "Of all the --"
understand: you told my            "It's him!" the sound man
traffic officers to tie up      accused.  "You're the one who
traffic, just to capture        stole our channel, aren't you?"
suspects?"                         "I will neither confirm nor
   Clouseau smiled coyly.       deny that.  And please turn
"I humbly confess zat it was    that camera off.
a stroke of pure genius."          "Now, look here, Mister--"
   "Idiot!  Do you see what        Richard made a silencing
you have done?"                 gesture.  "Save your breath,
   "You see nothing now, but    ma'am.  I know that you have
I assure you my plan cannot     a job to do."
fail!  Is only a matter of         "You're right!  And I'm
time."                          going to do it, with or
   "Explain."                   without your permission!"
   "Note ze time when ze           "Ma'am!  I don't want to
bums go boom."                  have to order you!  I merely
   "The bums?"                  suggest you consider your
   "Ze bums.  You were          own credibility."
expecting visitors from            Janice narrowed her gaze.
America, and so it was          "Is that a threat?"
necessary to split.  This          "Not at all, ma'am.  Just
was obviously a trap!"          consider what the folks back
   "A trap?  Why didn't you     home must think of your last
tell me?"                       report.  Do you really think
   "Aha!  Because I knew zat    those men are clones?"
somezing so obviously a trap       "You heard that?"
could not possibly *be* a          "Never mind what I heard
trap!  Is only a clever ruse    or didn't here."  He pointed
to make a man zink it is a      at the arguing inspectors.
trap!"                          "Just decide: do you really
   "His logic is truly          want your record to say that
dizzying," Nayland Smith        you reported *that* as news?"
muttered.
   "Clearly your clone is not so advanced as mine!"
   "You have not answered my question," Vera reminded him.
   "Aha!  You have not yet let me finish.  As we come here,
I remember zat we oppose a great mastermind.  Surely, he
would expect us to deduce zere is no trap, so he must take
ze obvious step: to lay a trap catching us all unawares!
Aha!"
   Vera reeled for a moment,       Only a few yards away,
then recovered.  "So then,      Janice looked on, then
if there *is* a trap, where     turned to Richard Jackson
is it?"                         and nodded.  "I see what
   "Aha!  Zat is what makes     you mean," she conceded.
the plan so clever, even           "Good.  Now, you know
worzy of me!  Doctor Manchu     and I know that this is only
wants to lure us all into a     an isolated event.  So just
false sense of security,        let her do your job, and you
including zose who expect a     *will* get a report."
trap!  Zis is very carefully       "I suppose.  But one thing
played so it seems all is       still bothers me.  If this
nozing.  Ze trap is not yet     thing is as unimportant as
sprung!  But we shall see       you say, then why is the
who is ze mouse!"               United States Army involved?"

   Both conversations were interrupted by a loud cry as a
black-garbed assailant darted out of a nearby restaurant and
dove at Clouseau.  With sudden grace, the inspector ducked
slightly under the attack and rose, using the aggressor's
momentum to hurl him end over end into the fountain.  With a
roar, he leaped onto the hood of the much abused police car
and awaited the next attack.  "Aha!  I am unbeaten!"
   Inside the police car, Agent Johnson, Horace, and Ichii
began to reconsider whether staying there was preferable to
going back out into the pouring rain.  Outside, on the other
hand, Nayland Smith chose the opportunity to climb into an
undamaged car nearby.
   Any decision to move was cancelled as the unknown man
erupted from the fountain.  He made a mad watery leap onto
the hood, but lost his footing on the slippery surface and
crashed onto the windshield, missing Clouseau entirely.
However, this failure was academic, since Clouseau had
slipped and fallen himself while dodging.  The combined
impacts didn't break the shatterproof windshield, but did
render it less useful.
   The combatants staggered to their feet.  Clouseau edged
towards the front of the car, silently beckoning.  His foe
again charged and leaped, but Clouseau was no longer there,
having hopped into the fountain behind him.  Instead, the
assailant had a closer encounter with the statue at the
center.

   "I am astounded!" exclaimed Vera.  "You actually were
prepared for that attack!"
   Clouseau shrugged tiredly, as he lifted the limp body out
of the fountain.  "My loyal Cato helps me train to remain
alert."
   Vera paused.  "Ah, I see."  She strained to pull a black
ski mask off the assailant, revealing a Chinese man with a
long ribboned queue.  "So, is this all your Cato does?"
   "Oui.  He is ozerwise quite friendly."
   Vera verified the man was still breathing, and then
patted him on the back to make sure.  Suddenly the eyes
opened broadly, as the Chinaman let out a feral growl,
reaching under Vera's riot helmet for her throat.  With
practiced ease, she clubbed him with her baton.
   "I thought you said your Cato was friendly."
   "Zat is not my Cato."  Their eyes met.  "Aha!"
   The two immediately set about shouting at all the
available gendarmes, scattering them to the winds.  Many
stormed every doorway that faced the square; dozens others
charged down the alleys and streets.  Notably, none of them
drove, but given the city's current traffic patterns, that
was understandable.

   Jackson felt at sea amidst all the sudden excitement.
Already the CNN news crew was gathering around the fountain,
ready to make another live report on recent developments.
Instinctively, he ducked out of view, by climbing into the
driver's side of the wrecked police car.  He noticed that
his American companions were still all present.
   "Ichii, keep an eye out.  Any Chinese, any uniforms,
anything suspicious."
   "How about that?" Ichii asked, pointing.  Jackson turned
to see Clouseau pulling a limp policeman out of the driver's
seat of a police car, grabbing his keys, then getting in.
   "#@%##!!!"  Richard patted the seat, felt the floor, and
checked the visor overhead in a vain attempt to locate the
ignition keys.  "Johnson, help me with the hood.  Beasley,
get the gas."
   "You're gonna still this car?"
   "Want me to look for the driver?" Jackson tossed off as
he climbed out.
   "Point."
   Hot-wiring the engine was a simple task.  Unfortunately,
closing the hood was not, as the shape of the frame was no
longer that intended by the designers.  Not having time to
worry about it, Richard let it bounce roughly as he sped
northeast out of the square on the car's three remaining
tires.

   "Arrez!  Attendez!  Not that way!"  Vera began to run
after the boxy car, but gave up as it disappeared.  "Merde."
   "Yeah."
   Vera turned with a start.  The American soldier Clouseau
had insisted on arresting had approached without a sound.
He nodded briefly and looked after the departed vehicle with
an urgent disappointment.
   "You are also wanting to catch them?"
   "I have a message to deliver."
   "Is that what you've been hiding?"
   "Hiding?" the man asked with a start.  "Oh, hiding, yes.
It comes straight from the General himself.  Eyes only."
   Vera nodded.  "Come with me."

   "I *knew* he was hiding something," Janice repeated as
she quickly collapsed the antenna.  "The American military
doesn't show up over here unless something's up."  She let
the crew finish the job as she climbed into the news van and
started the engine.
   "Everybody in?  All right.  Let's get this scoop now.
Juss, get that map and find out where it is we're going."
The cameraman fished around the glove compartment.
   "Traffic's improved," the sound man commented.
   "I'm not gonna knock it," Janice replied.  "Damn him!"
   "What does that sign there mean?"
   "What?  I'm trying to follow a car through heavy traffic
and you're asking me about *street signs*?"
   The sound man raised his palms defensively.  "Forget I
asked."
   "Juss, did you find out where we are yet?"
   "Um, I think we're about to cross the Rhone river on the
'Pont Morand'."  His voice trailed off.
   "Very good.  What's the problem?"
   "The bridge is one-way west."

   Three blocks ahead, a poor excuse for a car careened
erratically through the streets of Lyon.  "Watch it!"
Johnson shouted.
   "Shut up!" Horace retorted nasally.  "This isn't as easy
as it looks!  This thing keeps pulling to the left."
   "He just turned left four blocks up," Ichii reported.
   "You can see four blocks in *this*?" Johnson asked,
indicating the rainy night sky.
   "Four blocks," Horace repeated, peering through one of
the unscarred portions of the windshield.
   "We should have taken a different car," said Johnson.
   "Didn't you object to taking a car at all?" Richard
pointed out.
   "I did, but if you're going to borrow a car, borrow a
good one."
   Richard laughed sourly from the back seat, where the rain
continued to pour in the broken window.  "They won't want
this one back."
   The police radio squawked.  =Vera duVrai calls the
Americans.  Respond, please.=
   The FBI agent reached for the radio.  "This is Agent
Johnson."
   =What in Hell(tm) are you men doing?=
   "Chasing killers of Americans!" Johnson retorted.  "You?"
   =You drove against the road!=
   "Against traffic, she means," Richard suggested.
   "We discovered that.  Just let us handle this, okay?"
   =This is *my* case!"
   "Then do you mind telling me how two felons got away from
Madame 'Nobody-lies-to-me'?"
   There was a long pause, during which Ichii reminded the
driver of the left turn.

   =Vera duVrai calls the Americans. (hic) Respond, please.=
   "It's about time," Johnson barked.
   =Monsieur Johnson! (hic) I will not be made a fool!=
   "You are the one who set these men free!"
   =Please tell me again: (hic) where is your San Francisco
murderer?=
   Agent Johnson grumbled.
   "Next right," Ichii inserted.
   "Have you been drinking?" Johnson asked Vera.
   =I must, with you.  American police are truly as arrogant
as people say.  Now, there are important things you must
know.=
   "At last!" Johnson cried, without transmitting.
   =That one cannot lie to me is true; this you must accept.
That these men are clones is true.=
   "Nonsense!"
   =It is true!  Their fingerprints are identical!=
   "Clones?? Of who?"
   =They believe Fu Manchu, but there is no way to verify.
That they wish to find out about the murders is true.  That
the incident in the Place des Terreaux is related is true.
And nearly everything Inspector Clouseau told me about that
incident being part of an elaborate plan was true.=
   "Nearly everything!  And I suppose you will now tell me
that you knew he was lying to you!"
   =I did.  But I did not have sufficient time to act on
that knowledge.  This is indeed a clever plan that Clouseau
would be proud of.  But there was no Doctor Manchu behind
it.  This was Clouseau's plan.=
   "What did I tell you?  You shouldn't've set him loose!"
   =Monsieur Johnson!  I beg you not interrupt!  This is
most important!=
   "What?  There's more?"
   =That man I spoke with in the square is not the same
Clouseau I spoke with yesterday!=
   Johnson guffawed.  "More clones?"
   "Hear her out," Richard warned.
   =Whether it is the same body, I cannot say; but this I
know: the Clouseau I met in the square was not of the same
mind.  He was colder, more focus.  I felt as if he were
toying with me, and is everything had been orchestrated in
advance.  Even the attack had been designed to represent one
appropriate for Doctor Fu Manchu, to deliberately mislead me
without saying a word.=
   "There's a point to this, I suspect."
   =Oui.  If what I guess of Inpsector Clouseau is true, the
same may be true of Monsieur Smith!  Do not underestimate
them!  You may have two masters of the highest intelligence
working in concert!  You cannot handle them alone!  Now,
please tell me: Where are you?=

   Johnson lowered the mike into his lap.  "Anyone know?"
   "Beats me," Richard admitted.
   "We're on a highway," Horace offered.
   "Any idea which one?"
   "Look!" Horace roared nasally, indicating the scarred
windshield.  "It's pitch black and pouring rain, and we only
have one headlight!  I can barely see the road!"
   Johnson shrugged, and picked up the mike.  "We are on a
highway."
   =There are several.=
   "Tell her we're going east by northeast," added Richard.
   "A42," Ichii blurted out, pointing forward.  "There's a
signpost up there -- A42."
   "A42?" Johnson asked into the mike.
   =Merci.=
   It was another twenty seconds before the sign itself
became evident in the dark and pouring rain.

   Immediately behind them, Janice leaned on the horn.
"Out of my way!" she shouted.  She honked again.
   "Um, Janice.  The Army guy's in that car."
   "I know."
   "Then why are you trying to pass him?"
   "He's not the news!  The news is up there!  The people we
were talking to before!  This guy's interfering again!"
   "I don't think he's driving."
   "So he's in charge!  Look, they're all over the road!"
   She gunned the engine and swerved, then floored the gas
pedal.  After a couple near misses, she was clear, and the
van raced up the rain-slicked road after Clouseau.

   Richard watched the van pass.
   "Can't this car go any faster?"
   Horace spared a peek at the speedometer.  "We're already
going seventy.  I think that's pretty good for the shape
we're in."
   "Oh, all right.  I only ask because CNN just passed us."
   "Well, it'll help me see the road, at least."

   Back in Lyon, Vera passed instructions to any available
police cars to join the pursuit, then sat back in her seat,
taking a swig from her flask.  It was then that she noticed
the American orderly that was still with her, fidgeting in
his seat.
   "Don't mind me," he whispered.
   "Oh, yes.  You said you had a message to deliver?"
   "I do," he said, indicating a pouch he carried.
   "I'd like to see it."
   "Oh, no.  I can't do that.  Eyes only, you know."
   Vera drew a .57 and pointed at him.  "I insist."
   The orderly paled.  "What are you doing with a gun like
that?  It's not part of your regular arsenal, is it?"
   "I've had a bad day.  General Tripper didn't send you.
Nobody lies to Vera duVrai."
   The soldier deflated.  "How could I forget that?"
   "What?"
   "Nothing.  I can't tell you.  It could be very bad."
   "You seem to think so," Vera agreed.  "Bad for you, at
least."
   "That's for sure!  I'm not even supposed to be here!"
   "That, I believe.  So tell me why you *are* here."
   "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
   Vera shrugged, and opened his pouch, easily overcoming
his resistance.  "No!  That isn't for you!" he cried.
   "Then tell me who it *is* for."
   The soldier fidgeted.  "This isn't a good time."
   "And when will it be a good time?"
   "When you aren't drawing attention to yourself.  Or to
me, for that matter."
   There was an awkward silence.  Vera simply looked at the
orderly uncomprehendingly, and reached for the packet.  He
grabbed to hold onto it.  "No, don't read that!"
   But there was no stopping Vera; she still had the .57.

   Meanwhile, the chase continued.  As the road increased in
elevation, it also became steeper, and it was increasingly
difficult for the banged-up police car to keep pace with the
CNN news van.  Sometimes, its taillights disappeared from
view entirely, as it negotiated the hairpin turns that came
with climbing the side of a mountain.
   Ichii shivered.  The broken window on the Jackson's side
was generating a cold wet wind through the back of the car.
"Could we get some heat back here?"
   "Welcome to the Alps," Horace replied, as he strained to
peer through the driving rain.
   "Why are we still following these guys?  They're driving
much faster than we are."
   "We're still going fifty, and that's uphill."
   Johnson grunted.  "I refuse to believe that we are going
fifty miles an hour."
   "We aren't.  Foreign country, foreign car.  That's
kilometers an hour.  We *have* been going slow."
   As if to emphasize his point, a dozen police cars, sirens
wailing, came up behind, and passed with ease.  In a manner
of minutes, they too had disappeared around the next turn.
   "I agree with Ichii," Richard said, as Horace carefully
steered the car around the bend at an agonizing slow pace.
"We've done all we can."
   "Well, what do you want me to do?" Horace asked.  "Stop
right here in the middle of the road?"
   "Stop!  STOP!" Ichii yelled.
   Horace instinctively slammed on the brakes at the sudden
outburst.  The car fish-tailed slightly, but fortunately its
slow speed meant it did not have far to skid.  Less than a
second later, it was bathed in light as another car bounced
down the cliff above, caromed against them, and continued on
down the mountain.
   The police car was slammed hard and knocked back a yard.
The remaining headlight was smashed; the hood flew up; and
the engine sputtered to a stop.  It immediately became clear
to the passengers just how close they had come to death --
one more meter, and they could easily have joined the drip
down the hill.
   Everyone took a few moments to catch their breath in the
rainy pitch black.  "I guess stopping would be a good idea,"
Richard muttered.  "Thanks, Ichii."
   There was no reply.
   "Did you see who was in that car?"
   There was still no reply.  Richard patted the seat next
to him.  "Ichii?"
   When his eyes finally adapted to the darkness, he saw
that the other seat was empty, and the door open.


   DID ICHII FALL TO HIS DEATH?
   WHO WAS IN THAT OTHER CAR?
   WILL CNN BE THE FIRST ON THE SCENE?
   IS CLOUSEAU REALLY A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL MASTERMIND?

Find out in the next episode of Jackson Six --
-- only on Superguy.