Dirty Goggles – Diesel

Lucky Day
573 words
The Rogue Tinker
Diesel
Contains Light Movie Violence

“This is headquarters. We’ve been overrun. Is anyone reading this?” the frantic voice comes over the radio. I almost don’t recognize it at first, I’m so used to the calm professionalism with just a hint of Welsh accent.
“I read you, but we’ve been barely making a dent in them from this side. I’m coming to get you though, don’t you worry.” I tried to sound more confident than I feel. Over 100 soldiers were between our unit, and they’ve been outfitted with some sort of powered armor. Most of my men had been wounded, and ammo was running low. Tossing the radio down to aim a shot between the helmet and breastplate, I drop another soldier, but another steps immediately into his place. “Hey, Mikey, see that door?”
“That door? Where Research keeps their projects? Not exactly the time to be nosy, you know?”
“May not get a chance later.” I joke. Waiting for a moment, I run full speed for the door, dodging as bullets tear at the walls around me. Not even slowing, the reinforced door comes off it’s hinges as I slide across the floor. The lights are on, and at first all I see are crates scattered around but then, there is something covered by a tarp. Wheels are just barely visible underneath, so with a tug, the shroud comes off.
It must be a prototype, I’ve sure never seen anything like it. Like a motorcycle, but with a pair of wheels in the back. Armored forward and back, but the pair of heavy machine guns front and flamethrower to the rear are the best things I’ve seen all day. I hop right on, and find it just like the motorcycles back home. With a kick of the starter, it comes to life, throbbing with a diesel growl that sounds like it is eager to get in the fight.
Wheeling it around to where the enemy thinks they are safe behind the wall, I open up the machine guns, ripping holes through the walls and the soldiers behind it. Their armor can’t stop such fine steel, and the hallway soon ceases to be a deafening field of bullets and bravado. I can hear my guys trying to figure out what had happened, so I give it some throttle, and crash through the weakened wall. They hardly believe it, but then let out a cheer.
“Can’t stay boys, I’ve got a date.” With a salute, I wheel around and head down the hallway.
Along the way, I meet several squads of armored soldiers, but none of them were expecting the reinforced trike. They fall quickly, and in minutes, I skid to a stop in front of the door to Command. Inside, I can see her behind a metal desk for cover. The Tommy gun in her hands is streaming smoke, and the pile of enemy bodies just inside the door tells clearly why. Her uniform jacket’s been used to tie up a wounded man behind her, and her regulation skirt is ripped up the seam showing a very non-regulation long alabaster leg that completely draw my attention away from the attack underway.
She sees me looking in the door, and gives me a smile that could make Rita Hayworth jealous.
“Need a lift?”
“And another magazine. We’ve got work to do.” She slides across the seat behind me, squeezing me tightly as we set off to rejoin the battle.

Dirty Goggles Blog Hop Submission

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