Brian Saves the World, Maybe

Chapter 6 - Complications

Brian watched the power lines go up and down out his window. He glanced over at Dale, who had one hand on the steering wheel and one clutching his sandwich (roast beef, as usual). Dale had insisted on driving, claiming something along the lines of his driving style and vehicle being better suited to these kinds of "missions" or something. Brian wasn't sure exactly what made a van a better vehicle for anything, but he didn't feel like arguing over it.

He glanced down at the smart glasses in his lap. TV, did we get anything out of that scan?

My preliminary analysis is complete, and the information is useful. I found that Observers constantly transmit a unique signal that your glasses are capable of detecting. It should now be possible to adapt the glasses sufficiently to identify any Observers in your field of view.

You mean, they will glow red or something?

Something like that should be possible, yes.

That will come in handy.

Brian suddenly noticed flashing lights in the rearview mirror. A cop. Glancing at Dale, he said, "Yep, good thing you drove. Were you speeding, or what?"

Dale brought the van to a stop on the shoulder, muttering several somethings under his breath. "He couldn't have been checking my speed," he said, finally, with clarity. He pointed to the small radar detector on the dashboard.

Brian hadn't realized people still used those devices. "Maybe he saw your sandwich, and he's pulling you over for distracted driving?"

Those sandwiches do seem to command a lot of his attention.

As the officer got out of his vehicle, on a whim, Brian put the smart glasses back on.

The officer walked up and rapped lightly on Dale's window. Brian tapped the button on his phone, initiating a scan.

Dale looked at the officer for a moment before lowering the window. "How can I help you, Officer?"

"I'm going to need your driver's license and vehicle registration, please."

"Of course," Dale said, reaching over to the glove compartment.

"And I am going to need the passenger's identification as well."

Dale hesitated. "Why do you need his ID?"

The officer's face hardened a bit. "Sir, please step out of the vehicle."

Brian, it's an Observer.

Half in panic, Brian leaned over and whispered, "Observer!"

Almost instantly, Dale put the van in drive and gunned it. Brian looked back and saw the officer running to his patrol car.

The road they were on was more or less straight, but hilly. When a small hill momentarily hid the police car from view, Dale quickly slowed and took a narrow two-track road to the right that went back into a woody area. Brian didn't think the vehicle would be able to fit on the tiny road, but apparently, Dale had a symbiotic relationship with his beloved van.

Brian looked back through thick tree cover toward the main road, hearing the sound of branches scratching against the van as it continued steadily along. The police car zoomed by at high speed.

We outran a cop in a van. That has to be a first.

Possibly. I cannot find a record of that happening before.

Brian was glad he had agreed to let Dale drive. He wasn't sure he could have lost a cop—in a van, or otherwise.

An hour later, they were in Dale's barn.

Still a bit in shock from the events of the day, Brian glanced around the interior of the barn. It was very large, with a great deal of open space. Big bales of hay were stacked off to one side. Dale was busy grabbing these and piling them over his van.

Brian asked him what he was doing.

"Concealing the van, obviously. We're not far enough away from where we lost that cop. If he suspects we are in this area he could start searching buildings."

"Don't they need a warrant for that kind of thing?"

"Real cops do, sure."

"Okay, good point." Brian grabbed a hay bale and began helping.

Before concealing the back of the van, Dale took off the license plate, replacing it with another.

"What good will that do? If he already got your plate number, can't they just look it up and find out you are the owner?"

"This was an outdated plate from a vehicle I got rid of years ago," Dale said, holding up the plate he had just removed. "They won't be able to link it to me."

"You use a fake license plate?"

"Not all the time. Just when on a mission. I put this one on before I picked you up."

Brian wondered what sorts of things Dale considered to be missions. Going to the grocery store to get bread and milk?

That seems unlikely, TV said.

It's Dale. I wouldn't rule it out. Anyway, sometimes I'm just thinking to myself, TV.

It is difficult to tell the difference.

Whatever. That's your problem. But since you're listening, why do you think that Observer cop was after us?

It seems the Observer you met at the park detected something.

What, like it could tell we were scanning it?

Possibly.

Great, so now we're on their Most Wanted list or something? They've probably got a manhunt going for us right now. Guess it's game over for us before we ever really got started.

Not necessarily. It is important to stay calm.

A crunching sound outside the barn interrupted Brian's thoughts.

Dale grabbed a shovel and crept silently up beside the door, in what looked like an attempt at some kind of ninja creeping technique.

The latch rattled slightly. Someone was clearly outside messing with it.

Brian peered carefully through a crack in the barn wall. It was that cop! How the heck did he find us?

Brian suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his head and dropped to his knees.

Sounds of the door opening. Some footsteps. A sudden, dull clang, followed by a crash that made the floorboards shake.

The sensation had lasted only a few seconds, but it had completely disoriented Brian. As the pain subsided, and his mind began to clear, Brian opened his eyes to see the officer lying face-down on the barn floor, handcuffed behind his back, and Dale standing over him with a smug look on his face.