Others came running. There were a lot of them. Maybe she could have taken them all, but why risk doing it on her own when she had a car that was built like a tank and ready to oblige? She just needed to clear a path to it. The men circled around her. She picked the one closest to her. His nose was broken before he realized the mysterious woman had moved. Another one lunged at her. She used his momentum to flip the attacker onto one of his cohorts. Their attacks were uncoordinated and slow. She would have had fun, if two of them hadn't drawn pistols and fired.
One bullet struck her in the torso. The slug couldn’t pierce the special fabric of her costume, but the impact still hurt. She ran to her car for protection as the pursuers continued to fire.
"Don’t let her get away!"
She slid over the glossy hood of her car. Within seconds she was behind the wheel and the engine roared. She chased the men back onto the site. Bullets ricocheted off the protected body and windows. She ran them down while weaving between the debris piles. She quickly whittled down their ranks. She laughed as they dove to escape the black car's heavy chrome bumper.
CRASH!
A deafening jolt tossed her car. Betty’s head hit the ceiling and she bit her tongue. The car nearly flipped over from the impact then stopped suddenly.
She scanned the windows and realized they stuck her car with the wrecking-ball. Incredibly, the mysterious black car wasn't flattened. The crane operator couldn’t believe it either. Betty asked the car. "What are you made out of?
She stomped the gas-peddle to the floor. The tires spun but the car didn't move. It was pinned between the wrecking-ball and building debris. What remained of the small mob approached the vehicle. Betty knew there was no way they could get in, but she would have to figure a way to free the car from the outside. They started shooting at the car, to drive her out. Then she remembered. "Wait, I've got a gun of my own."
She removed an odd looking pistol from the holster on her belt. It was called an Oberon 202e Dart gun. Like her protective uniform, it was another of the gifts that came with the super car. She cocked it and popped open a roof hatch. She took aim through her mobile parapet and fired at the men one at a time. The Oberon shot a tiny case-less dart comprised of a powerful sedative. As the dart was absorbed into the bloodstream it rendered the target unconscious until fully dissolved.
Each of the men felt something like a wasp sting. They became light headed, staggered and fell. The circle of men tumbled like dominos. Then she set her sights on the crane operator. She twist-cocked the pistol a few more times to build enough air pressure for the long-range shot. The driver saw her point the weapon at him and scrambled to escape the open-air cab.
A powerful air blast fired the dart the full distance. The operator felt it sting his back. He became woozy and fell to the dirt. All the men would remain unconscious for hours.
“That was easy.” She said. “I guess I should have thought of that earlier.”
She climbed out of her car and into the aftermath. With her dart-gun drawn, she raced to the side of the murder victim and examined him. She didn't recognize him. "I didn't see what happened. I’m not sure who the murderer was. I don't know if Carson pulled the trigger or not.”
“I made too many stupid mistakes tonight. I’ve got to be smarter or I’ll end up like this guy."
She squinted and scanned the vacant area for movement. " I doubt Carson is still here.”
She looked at the neighboring building. Their lights were all off. “I can't believe all that commotion didn't wake anyone up. Still, I better clear out of here."
She ran to the wrecking crane. The engine was idling. After wasting time figuring out the controls, she clumsily managed to free her vehicle.
Back at the car she inspected the glossy black body for damage. “Not a scratch on it. It just didn't seem possible."
She hopped back in behind the wheel, revved the powerful engine and fled the scene. "This method isn’t working out how I hoped. Maybe I need to try a more direct approach next."
She raced through the sleeping city.
"For now, I’m going to have to let the police clean up my mess. They have more resources. Maybe they can piece together the evidence and figure out who pulled the trigger.”
She removed a microphone from the radio transmitter installed under the dash. Then tuned it to a restricted frequency.
Officer Mahoney drew the short straw that night. He was selected to work the police dispatch on the graveyard shift all week. It was slow and he was alone in the station. All the other officers were on the road, while he was stuck at a desk with a book. He didn't like to read so he used the tome for a pillow instead.
A woman’s voice crackled over the radio and woke him. "Hello?"
Mahoney sat up straight. The voice continued. "Hello? I’m trying to contact the police?"