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A Few Good Bad Guys


MaryAnne
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*Meanwhile, outside, Lieutenant Morrison was checking over the condition of his car. The Caprice seemed to be okay, no major damage. Items in the trunk had been rummaged through but nothing appeared to be missing. Jack rearranged the trunk, securing everything back where they were supposed to be and then closed the trunk. He got into the driver's seat, started the car and figured he'd better fill up with gas before driving back to Atlanta.*

*Cooter's garage was across the street, so Jack swung the Chevy around and pulled up to the old gas pumps. After Cooter pumped the fuel, Jack paid and was soon on his way, heading out of Hazzard toward Route 36. The road that would take him back to Atlanta.*

*If he, infact, made it all the way back to Atlanta. He was debating it. He could go looking for Brian, but he figured Brian was long gone by now, probably hiding somewhere until things blew over. If he was to ever have the chance to confront Brian again, Jack would have to practice some extreme patience and stealth. No more going into town and announcing his intentions to the local law -- and Brian's kin. To confront Brian, meant doing everything outside of the police book.*

*Jack didn't exactly relish that, but the town of Hazzard was probably the safest place Brian could be. And the most dangerous place for Jack. The Lieutenant had stirred up the hornets, so to speak. His would be a name and face that folks would remember, as long as they wanted to protect Brian. There would be no casual entrance back into town after this.*

*With these thoughts in mind, the Caprice moved along the highway...*

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*Meanwhile, outside, Lieutenant Morrison was checking over the condition of his car. The Caprice seemed to be okay, no major damage. Items in the trunk had been rummaged through but nothing appeared to be missing. Jack rearranged the trunk, securing everything back where they were supposed to be and then closed the trunk. He got into the driver's seat, started the car and figured he'd better fill up with gas before driving back to Atlanta.*

*Cooter's garage was across the street, so Jack swung the Chevy around and pulled up to the old gas pumps. After Cooter pumped the fuel, Jack paid and was soon on his way, heading out of Hazzard toward Route 36. The road that would take him back to Atlanta.*

*If he, infact, made it all the way back to Atlanta. He was debating it. He could go looking for Brian, but he figured Brian was long gone by now, probably hiding somewhere until things blew over. If he was to ever have the chance to confront Brian again, Jack would have to practice some extreme patience and stealth. No more going into town and announcing his intentions to the local law -- and Brian's kin. To confront Brian, meant doing everything outside of the police book.*

*Jack didn't exactly relish that, but the town of Hazzard was probably the safest place Brian could be. And the most dangerous place for Jack. The Lieutenant had stirred up the hornets, so to speak. His would be a name and face that folks would remember, as long as they wanted to protect Brian. There would be no casual entrance back into town after this.*

*With these thoughts in mind, the Caprice moved along the highway...*

*...and as the Caprice headed out of Hazzard on Highway 36, a black Impala headed towards it on the same road, crusing sedately and doing five miles under the speed limit. It was inevitable that the two cars would pass by each other.*

*It was inevitable, that the driver of each car, would recognize each other...*

*...and the only thought going through one Coltrane's mind, as the Caprice came into view, was whether it was best to choose Fight or flight.*

*One smooth tug of the wheel, and the Impala's nose would put itself squarely in the Caprice's path, in a deadly game of chicken...*

*Or, it wasn't too late to hit the gas and blow by the Caprice at high speed, inviting chase, and hoping for the opportunity to escape. Give Jack Morrison his chance, but don't let him win....*

*The odds, however, were not good enough, and any escape would only be temporary. Jack Morrison would never give up, never quit.*

*His prey could never surrender.*

*With the Caprice in view, criminal instinct took over. Fight or flight....*

*....but there was a third option, risky, but it allowed the chance to change strategy later. The Impala roared with sudden speed and moved a notch closer to the center line. It wasn't a collision course...*

*...nor was it innocent escape. Diablo's high-powered lunge and smooth, subtle swerve was a jousting move. The steel flank of Diablo skinned against the side of the Caprice at high speed. The Caprice's side mirror popped off and went flying, as did the Impala's, and the shriek of metal against metal was a short, scraping howl.*

*A streak of light-colored paint from the Caprice smeared Diablo's hide like war paint. A long smudge of black paint decorated the Caprice in return. These souveniers were only the beginning...*

*..the battle was on.*

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*yawns* Perhaps I should go rest. *tired voice, smiles* Good seeing ya again Lex, *pause and briefly considers a private thought* Bye, Alex. I'll be at the bail bond office, Sheriff. *casually walks toward the booking room door, hears Rosco say goodbye on exit.*

*watching Daney's exit then glances at Rosco, finally just turns and lays down on the cot staring up at the ceiling...again thinking about black clad Brother and the Atlanta cop, wondering about what will happen when those two finally meet up...gets a shiver through the lean frame and rolls over with the back to the wall...glancing out between the bars and into the booking room wondering about MaryAnne in Boss' office...*

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*watching Daney's exit then glances at Rosco, finally just turns and lays down on the cot staring up at the ceiling...again thinking about black clad Brother and the Atlanta cop, wondering about what will happen when those two finally meet up...gets a shiver through the lean frame and rolls over with the back to the wall...glancing out between the bars and into the booking room wondering about MaryAnne in Boss' office...*

*walking down the hall. Thinking MaryAnne deserved some quiet time from everyone else after Jack’s surprise visit, Alex’s arrest and Brian’s dilemma. MaryAnne sneak out Boss’s window…Hmmm. Maybe Daisy has called with an update on Julie, goes into office.*

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*It's seems that Julie was getting restless and that she didn't like getting lectured about having her inhaler and she wanted out of that hosptial as well.

*Presses the play button on the office answering machine. Hears a cousin’s voice while getting a cup of coffee.*

“Julie is recuperating. See you at the farm.†*Smiles and takes a sip of the coffee. Sits the mug on the desk and resets the message machine. Then gets a notebook from one of the desk drawers. Begins reading notes from a case. Distracting from the conflict of interest regarding Lt. Jack Morrison*

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*Presses the play button on the office answering machine. Hears a cousin’s voice while getting a cup of coffee.*

“Julie is recuperating. See you at the farm.†*Smiles and takes a sip of the coffee. Sits the mug on the desk and resets the message machine. Then gets a notebook from one of the desk drawers. Begins reading notes from a case. Distracting from the conflict of interest regarding Lt. Jack Morrison*

Back At the Hosptial

*Julie says "But doc, I want to go home I feel fine this silly for me to stay overnight besides there is something going on right now I still don't know what it is."

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*...and as the Caprice headed out of Hazzard on Highway 36, a black Impala headed towards it on the same road, crusing sedately and doing five miles under the speed limit. It was inevitable that the two cars would pass by each other.*

*It was inevitable, that the driver of each car, would recognize each other...*

*...and the only thought going through one Coltrane's mind, as the Caprice came into view, was whether it was best to choose Fight or flight.*

*One smooth tug of the wheel, and the Impala's nose would put itself squarely in the Caprice's path, in a deadly game of chicken...*

*Or, it wasn't too late to hit the gas and blow by the Caprice at high speed, inviting chase, and hoping for the opportunity to escape. Give Jack Morrison his chance, but don't let him win....*

*The odds, however, were not good enough, and any escape would only be temporary. Jack Morrison would never give up, never quit.*

*His prey could never surrender.*

*With the Caprice in view, criminal instinct took over. Fight or flight....*

*....but there was a third option, risky, but it allowed the chance to change strategy later. The Impala roared with sudden speed and moved a notch closer to the center line. It wasn't a collision course...*

*...nor was it innocent escape. Diablo's high-powered lunge and smooth, subtle swerve was a jousting move. The steel flank of Diablo skinned against the side of the Caprice at high speed. The Caprice's side mirror popped off and went flying, as did the Impala's, and the shriek of metal against metal was a short, scraping howl.*

*A streak of light-colored paint from the Caprice smeared Diablo's hide like war paint. A long smudge of black paint decorated the Caprice in return. These souveniers were only the beginning...*

*..the battle was on.*

*It took a moment to recover from the surprise of seeing the black Impala and then being boldly side swiped. The side mirror gone, looks in the rearview to see the Impala's fleeing tail. With a precise, sharp turn of the wheel, the boxy Caprice swung around 180 and the gas pedal was pushed hard to the floor. The engine screamed as the car tore off after it's prey.*

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*It took a moment to recover from the surprise of seeing the black Impala and then being boldly side swiped. The side mirror gone, looks in the rearview to see the Impala's fleeing tail. With a precise, sharp turn of the wheel, the boxy Caprice swung around 180 and the gas pedal was pushed hard to the floor. The engine screamed as the car tore off after it's prey.*

*watches in the mirror as the Caprice turns sharply and aggressively takes to the chase. Grips own wheel a little tighter and gives Diablo more gas, just trying to keep the Caprice from flying into the Impala's tail. Feels some apprehension at the sheer ferocity of the pursuit..*

"Well, Diablo, looks like we got his attention. And unless we get some distance from 'em, Jack Morrison's gonna have you in the impound yard in about ten minutes flat."

*speaks aloud to own car, Diablo being the only audience for the nervous banter*

"We'd better make sure he can't shoot out a tire, once he calms down enuff to think of that. Which means I've got a new appreciation for dirt roads...and heah's one now!"

*sees an old dirt road running parallel to the highway, being the original rural route that existed before Highway 36 was paved. Cranks the wheel to a sharp right and sends Diablo nose-first down a rock strewn slope, the big car bounding down fast to finally skitter loose on the dirt road.*

*It takes a minute to get Diablo's front and rear in agreement with which end was to be in the front. The long black Impala finds traction as the rear wheels dig into the dirt road. Diablo roars down the dirt road, effectively backtracking and now leading Jack away from Hazzard.*

*As a bonus, clouds of billowing dust were thrown up by the Impala's skittish embrace of the dirt road, and more dust fans out in the wake of Diablo's flight. Weaves the car side to side, catching the rougher pockets of loose stones and ruts of dirt at the edges of the road. Plumes of dust and a spray of gravel are thrown out from the wide rear tires, obscuring the visibility behind Diablo.*

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*watches in the mirror as the Caprice turns sharply and aggressively takes to the chase. Grips own wheel a little tighter and gives Diablo more gas, just trying to keep the Caprice from flying into the Impala's tail. Feels some apprehension at the sheer ferocity of the pursuit..*

"Well, Diablo, looks like we got his attention. And unless we get some distance from 'em, Jack Morrison's gonna have you in the impound yard in about ten minutes flat."

*speaks aloud to own car, Diablo being the only audience for the nervous banter*

"We'd better make sure he can't shoot out a tire, once he calms down enuff to think of that. Which means I've got a new appreciation for dirt roads...and heah's one now!"

*sees an old dirt road running parallel to the highway, being the original rural route that existed before Highway 36 was paved. Cranks the wheel to a sharp right and sends Diablo nose-first down a rock strewn slope, the big car bounding down fast to finally skitter loose on the dirt road.*

*It takes a minute to get Diablo's front and rear in agreement with which end was to be in the front. The long black Impala finds traction as the rear wheels dig into the dirt road. Diablo roars down the dirt road, effectively backtracking and now leading Jack away from Hazzard.*

*As a bonus, clouds of billowing dust were thrown up by the Impala's skittish embrace of the dirt road, and more dust fans out in the wake of Diablo's flight. Weaves the car side to side, catching the rougher pockets of loose stones and ruts of dirt at the edges of the road. Plumes of dust and a spray of gravel are thrown out from the wide rear tires, obscuring the visibility behind Diablo.*

*If not for the sun that occasionally glinted off the wide chrome bumper of the Impala, the big Chevy would have been all but obscured by the dust cloud that it left in it's wake. The Caprice was hardly deterred in it's persuit, having been launched gamefully down the embankment and directly into the dust storm of Diablo's flight. Morrison, having honed his skills as a youth racing on dirt tracks, quickly discovered where the Impala was at when it's chrome accents were betrayed by the sun. As such, to maintain the chase called on a certain amount of patience. He was back atleast a car length from the Impala and there'd be no over taking the car anytime soon as the dust cloud hampered, but did not completely discourage things.*

*As long as there was a cloud of dust to follow, and winking sunlight off chrome to see, Jack Morrison would keep the chase. He was unconcerned with the gravel and stones that spit back and hit the grill of his unmarked police car. The beefed up suspension, part of the police package way the Caprice was built, responded to the slopes and changes of the road. The car could stand the abuse, but even Jack knew that brute force driving wasn't going to win this contest.*

*It was going to take patience. Brian Coltrane more than likely had been in the area long enough to know the roads and know the terrain. This put him at a distinct advantage. But if Jack Morrison had anything in his favor at the moment, it was that he was patient...*

*Very patient...*

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*If not for the sun that occasionally glinted off the wide chrome bumper of the Impala, the big Chevy would have been all but obscured by the dust cloud that it left in it's wake. The Caprice was hardly deterred in it's persuit, having been launched gamefully down the embankment and directly into the dust storm of Diablo's flight. Morrison, having honed his skills as a youth racing on dirt tracks, quickly discovered where the Impala was at when it's chrome accents were betrayed by the sun. As such, to maintain the chase called on a certain amount of patience. He was back atleast a car length from the Impala and there'd be no over taking the car anytime soon as the dust cloud hampered, but did not completely discourage things.*

*As long as there was a cloud of dust to follow, and winking sunlight off chrome to see, Jack Morrison would keep the chase. He was unconcerned with the gravel and stones that spit back and hit the grill of his unmarked police car. The beefed up suspension, part of the police package way the Caprice was built, responded to the slopes and changes of the road. The car could stand the abuse, but even Jack knew that brute force driving wasn't going to win this contest.*

*It was going to take patience. Brian Coltrane more than likely had been in the area long enough to know the roads and know the terrain. This put him at a distinct advantage. But if Jack Morrison had anything in his favor at the moment, it was that he was patient...*

*Very patient...*

*And Jack Morrison was a damn sight more patient than his prey. Brian knew that Jack was capable of just hanging back and wearing him down. Any hope that Jack would be less capable on a dirt road was quickly squashed, as Diablo did a drifting slide around one turn and then another, only to have the Caprice stubbornly follow.*

"Looks like thangs are gonna halfta get mean. Sorry Jack....."

*with this, Brian drew the snub-nosed .38 from his inner jacket pocket. The billowing dust behind Diablo afforded some cover as Brian shifted the gun into his left hand, and held it backwards out the driver's side window. He used the side mirror to aim, pointing the barrel of the gun towards the Caprice, resting the tip of his thumb outside of the trigger. But it was here that the cloud of dust worked against him. Brief glimpses of the Caprice's grill would come into view and then be obscured again.*

Jack's gonna think I'm tryin' to blow his head off...and if I miss, I just might. Careful now...easy...

*Brian watched the road ahead and watched the mirror. If he didn't nail the radiator of the Caprice on the first shot, he might never get a second one fired, as Jack would no doubt reply in kind.*

*the dirt road opened up to a flat stretch. Brian saw just enough of the Caprice's grill in the mirror, and quickly aimed low and center. There was no intent to shoot his advesary, only his car - and Brian hoped Jack would realize that as he pulled back the trigger with the tip of this thumb, taking a wild west trick shot at the Caprice's grill."

*BLAM!*

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*And Jack Morrison was a damn sight more patient than his prey. Brian knew that Jack was capable of just hanging back and wearing him down. Any hope that Jack would be less capable on a dirt road was quickly squashed, as Diablo did a drifting slide around one turn and then another, only to have the Caprice stubbornly follow.*

"Looks like thangs are gonna halfta get mean. Sorry Jack....."

*with this, Brian drew the snub-nosed .38 from his inner jacket pocket. The billowing dust behind Diablo afforded some cover as Brian shifted the gun into his left hand, and held it backwards out the driver's side window. He used the side mirror to aim, pointing the barrel of the gun towards the Caprice, resting the tip of his thumb outside of the trigger. But it was here that the cloud of dust worked against him. Brief glimpses of the Caprice's grill would come into view and then be obscured again.*

Jack's gonna think I'm tryin' to blow his head off...and if I miss, I just might. Careful now...easy...

*Brian watched the road ahead and watched the mirror. If he didn't nail the radiator of the Caprice on the first shot, he might never get a second one fired, as Jack would no doubt reply in kind.*

*the dirt road opened up to a flat stretch. Brian saw just enough of the Caprice's grill in the mirror, and quickly aimed low and center. There was no intent to shoot his advesary, only his car - and Brian hoped Jack would realize that as he pulled back the trigger with the tip of this thumb, taking a wild west trick shot at the Caprice's grill."

*BLAM!*

*Jack flinched at the sound of gunfire and for a split second thought Brian might have been trying to shoot the driver of the Caprice and not the Caprice itself. But then it soon became evident that the Caprice took a direct hit in the radiator as white steam billowed out from the front of the car.*

*Wounded, the Caprice quit its persuit and pulled over to the side of the road. The dust from the chase hung in the air, along with the sound of the Impala's fading exhaust note as the big black car got away...*

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*Jack flinched at the sound of gunfire and for a split second thought Brian might have been trying to shoot the driver of the Caprice and not the Caprice itself. But then it soon became evident that the Caprice took a direct hit in the radiator as white steam billowed out from the front of the car.*

*Wounded, the Caprice quit its persuit and pulled over to the side of the road. The dust from the chase hung in the air, along with the sound of the Impala's fading exhaust note as the big black car got away...*

*....but the black Impala did not go as far as Jack might have expected. Diablo made good on the escape, but only to the extent of avoiding any return fire Jack might have offered. Once it was clear that the Caprice was disabled and not giving futher chase, Diablo made a wide U-turn, turning to face the enemy.*

*Brian let Diablo idle in place. He didn't send anymore gunfire Jack's direction, though it was clear he could have, if he wished. Jack, no doubt, could offer the same, though Diablo was far enough away to discourage any casual potshot. The Caprice couldn't flee, but Diablo could attack, and this new balance of power tilted the odds into Brian's favor.*

*Brian waited just long enough to let Jack come to that conclusion on his own, then let Diablo roll forward. The black Impala picked up speed gradually, until it was cruising towards the immoble Caprice at a good clip. The path of Diablo, while bold and confrontational, was not aimed in head-on chicken. Something else was up the black leather jacket sleeve of one Coltrane....*

*...who was now the predator, and no longer the prey....*

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*....but the black Impala did not go as far as Jack might have expected. Diablo made good on the escape, but only to the extent of avoiding any return fire Jack might have offered. Once it was clear that the Caprice was disabled and not giving futher chase, Diablo made a wide U-turn, turning to face the enemy.*

*Brian let Diablo idle in place. He didn't send anymore gunfire Jack's direction, though it was clear he could have, if he wished. Jack, no doubt, could offer the same, though Diablo was far enough away to discourage any casual potshot. The Caprice couldn't flee, but Diablo could attack, and this new balance of power tilted the odds into Brian's favor.*

*Brian waited just long enough to let Jack come to that conclusion on his own, then let Diablo roll forward. The black Impala picked up speed gradually, until it was cruising towards the immoble Caprice at a good clip. The path of Diablo, while bold and confrontational, was not aimed in head-on chicken. Something else was up the black leather jacket sleeve of one Coltrane....*

*...who was now the predator, and no longer the prey....*

*Jack had yet to even get out of his car and to do so at that moment seemed foolhearted. He had seen the black Impala turn around down the road, idle still for a few moments and then start to roll in his direction.*

*He had few options for this turn of events. The Caprice had redlined and wasn't about to move any further. It didn't look like Brian was aiming the Impala directly at the Caprice but that didn't mean he couldn't swerve over at the last minute and slam into the car head on. Jack could scoot over and bail out the passenger door but then he could end up being chased on foot by the phantom black Chevy, if the Caprice ended up not being hit*

*Other possibilities entered Jack's mind. Grim possibilities. Brian had a gun and could be on the way back to use it again...to put a stop to Jack once and for all.*

*That did it. Total survival instincts took over and Jack decided staying in the car had worse odds than fleeing. He scooted across the seat of the Caprice and popped open the passenger door, bailing from the car. He ran like hell toward a small patch of woods just beyond the road*

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*Jack had yet to even get out of his car and to do so at that moment seemed foolhearted. He had seen the black Impala turn around down the road, idle still for a few moments and then start to roll in his direction.*

*He had few options for this turn of events. The Caprice had redlined and wasn't about to move any further. It didn't look like Brian was aiming the Impala directly at the Caprice but that didn't mean he couldn't swerve over at the last minute and slam into the car head on. Jack could scoot over and bail out the passenger door but then he could end up being chased on foot by the phantom black Chevy, if the Caprice ended up not being hit*

*Other possibilities entered Jack's mind. Grim possibilities. Brian had a gun and could be on the way back to use it again...to put a stop to Jack once and for all.*

*That did it. Total survival instincts took over and Jack decided staying in the car had worse odds than fleeing. He scooted across the seat of the Caprice and popped open the passenger door, bailing from the car. He ran like hell toward a small patch of woods just beyond the road*

*Diablo's engine gave a growl of acceleration as Jack hoofed it for the woods, spurring him on. The long black Impala didn't leave the road, however, and Jack was allowed to take his woodsy refuge. Diablo came to a dirt-billowing, sliding stop alongside of the disabled Caprice. The unmarked Atlanta cruiser was now a strategic barrier between Diablo and the patch of woods where Jack had secluded himself like a repentant druid.*

*Brian made use of the advantage, and climbed through Diablo's driver's side window, to crawl half-in to the Caprice, just enough to reach for the CB handset.*

"I've always wanted to do this. Seen it on tv enuff...." *the CB microphone handset is given a hard tug, and the cord snaps apart from the CB receiver.* "Khee! Ah man, that felt great...." *merrily, the now-defunct CB handset is pitched out the window, the broken cord trailing behind it.*

*Next, it is noticed that Jack left in such a hurry, that the keys were still dangling from the Caprice's ignition. These are irresitable to any thief, whether the car runs or not, and so the keys are snatched up quickly. After a moment's deliberation, one curious Coltrane climbs out and skulks around the Caprice, then uses the keys to open the Caprice's trunk.*

"Let's just see if all that fun cop stuff is still in here....yep!" *with the delight of a kid in a toy store, Brian rummages through the trunk. Lights one of the road flares and tosses it a few feet away from the parked cars, issuing legitimate warning to any other motorists who might attempt travel down this blocked dirt road. Tosses another flare near the other end of the parked cars, and with this bit of public safety complete, helps self to the really fun stuff in the trunk, like the police-issue shotgun.*

"Yeee-freakin'-haaa." *finds the shotgun is loaded, and digs around in the trunk for a couple boxes of shotgun shells. Carries this prize back to the Impala and stands next to it with the shotgun in hand, while gazing towards the last known flight path of Jack Morrison.*

*pursuit there would be. But not yet, not in the broad daylight. It would be better to wait for dusk, when the long shadows of nightfall would offer more cover to the black-clad Coltrane.*

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*Diablo's engine gave a growl of acceleration as Jack hoofed it for the woods, spurring him on. The long black Impala didn't leave the road, however, and Jack was allowed to take his woodsy refuge. Diablo came to a dirt-billowing, sliding stop alongside of the disabled Caprice. The unmarked Atlanta cruiser was now a strategic barrier between Diablo and the patch of woods where Jack had secluded himself like a repentant druid.*

*Brian made use of the advantage, and climbed through Diablo's driver's side window, to crawl half-in to the Caprice, just enough to reach for the CB handset.*

"I've always wanted to do this. Seen it on tv enuff...." *the CB microphone handset is given a hard tug, and the cord snaps apart from the CB receiver.* "Khee! Ah man, that felt great...." *merrily, the now-defunct CB handset is pitched out the window, the broken cord trailing behind it.*

*Next, it is noticed that Jack left in such a hurry, that the keys were still dangling from the Caprice's ignition. These are irresitable to any thief, whether the car runs or not, and so the keys are snatched up quickly. After a moment's deliberation, one curious Coltrane climbs out and skulks around the Caprice, then uses the keys to open the Caprice's trunk.*

"Let's just see if all that fun cop stuff is still in here....yep!" *with the delight of a kid in a toy store, Brian rummages through the trunk. Lights one of the road flares and tosses it a few feet away from the parked cars, issuing legitimate warning to any other motorists who might attempt travel down this blocked dirt road. Tosses another flare near the other end of the parked cars, and with this bit of public safety complete, helps self to the really fun stuff in the trunk, like the police-issue shotgun.*

"Yeee-freakin'-haaa." *finds the shotgun is loaded, and digs around in the trunk for a couple boxes of shotgun shells. Carries this prize back to the Impala and stands next to it with the shotgun in hand, while gazing towards the last known flight path of Jack Morrison.*

*pursuit there would be. But not yet, not in the broad daylight. It would be better to wait for dusk, when the long shadows of nightfall would offer more cover to the black-clad Coltrane.*

*Jack cursed his luck - and apparent lack of smarts - as he watched from behind a tree in the woods as Brian rummaged through the Caprice. Now, Brian had not just one gun...he had two. And he was probably just itching to use the shot gun.*

*Jack still had his 9mm, and two extra clips in his pocket, but he swore under his breath. The odds were now very much against him. Jack considered his limited options: Stay in the woods and wait for Brian to come looking for him, or keep walking and find a way out on the otherside, find another road and take his chances there. Brian didn't seem to be in any hurry to come looking for him, so Jack figured he was waiting. And given the hour of the day, he figured he was waiting for nightfall.*

*The sun was creeping low toward the western horizon. There was only a few precious hours until dusk. Jack turned around, keeping his back to the tree trunk that he was hidden behind and he surveyed the wooded area he was in.*

*The Georgia pines were thin where he was at, but thickened further back. There was no telling how far back the woods ran, it could have been anywhere from a mile to ten miles. He wondered if it was possible for him to make a bad decision twice.*

*There was, of course, one more option. A crazy option. Insane. Practically suicide. Jack couldn't believe he was even briefly considering it since Brian had a fully loaded shotgun in his hands. They were the only two on the road and in the area. There were no witnesses. Jack could be gunned down and it would be over.*

*Or would it? The only thing that gave him any consulation was if something did happen to him, Atlanta police would come looking for him and for answers. And Brian's cousins would have a very difficult decision to make as to what they told.*

*Afterall, Jack had only come to Hazzard to pick up justice's overdue payment...*

*On the other hand, Jack wasn't looking to get himself killed easily. So the last option was discarded.*

*He glanced over his shoulder, peering around the tree trunk back at Brian, still standing by his Impala. Jack then faced the woods again and took a deep breath. He then launched himself away from the tree and went straight, keeping the tree he had left between himself and Brian's line of sight. Coltrane would catch a glimpse of him, he was sure, especially as he zig zagged around a smaller tree to duck behind a larger one for cover.*

*Reaching just such a tree, Jack paused, hidden and peered around back toward the road*

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*the notebook back in the drawer. Whatever the outcome, Daney wanted to hear it from MaryAnne. The Deputy had this incredible way of not sugar coating stuff. Significant time had elapsed to return to the booking room. The detective walked out of the office and down the hallway to the Sheriff’s Department. The thought of going outside and yelling at MaryAnne through the window if it was open, laughter echoed through the empty corridor. Feeling rested, Daney entered the booking room again.*

"MaryAnne still in there?" *She asked, walking to Boss's office door.*

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*the notebook back in the drawer. Whatever the outcome, Daney wanted to hear it from MaryAnne. The Deputy had this incredible way of not sugar coating stuff. Significant time had elapsed to return to the booking room. The detective walked out of the office and down the hallway to the Sheriff’s Department. The thought of going outside and yelling at MaryAnne through the window if it was open, laughter echoed through the empty corridor. Feeling rested, Daney entered the booking room again.*

"MaryAnne still in there?" *She asked, walking to Boss's office door.*

*getting up from the cot, walking to the bars and gripping them* She hasn't come out no...I'm beginning to get worried about her myself. *Giving a sigh, wondering about black clad Brother as well touching forehead to the bars...* And she's not the only one I'm worried about...*whispers*

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*getting up from the cot, walking to the bars and gripping them* She hasn't come out no...I'm beginning to get worried about her myself. *Giving a sigh, wondering about black clad Brother as well touching forehead to the bars...* And she's not the only one I'm worried about...*whispers*

*Hazel eyes glance over left shoulder at Alex. The blond man's whisper not loud enough to hear, his concern for the Deputy is noted. Goes to the county comissioner's door and hestiantly knocks.* "MaryAnne, you want a rootbeer or something..."

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*Hazel eyes glance over left shoulder at Alex. The blond man's whisper not loud enough to hear, his concern for the Deputy is noted. Goes to the county comissioner's door and hestiantly knocks.* "MaryAnne, you want a rootbeer or something..."

*Inside Boss's office, a blue clad deputy sits at the desk not getting much of her work done. Concern for her kin runs strong and she has had to fight the urge to get up and leave the courthouse to go out and find him, to know what was going on. If anything was at the moment. Maybe Jack really did go back to Atlanta...but MaryAnne knew better than to hope so foolishly*

*The cautious voice of Daney Duke at the door broke MaryAnne's troubled thoughts. Giving up on the work she had yet to even start on, MaryAnne stood up and went to the door. Seh opened it and came out of the office*

"No thanks. What I want doesn't exactly come in a bottle..."

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*Inside Boss's office, a blue clad deputy sits at the desk not getting much of her work done. Concern for her kin runs strong and she has had to fight the urge to get up and leave the courthouse to go out and find him, to know what was going on. If anything was at the moment. Maybe Jack really did go back to Atlanta...but MaryAnne knew better than to hope so foolishly*

*The cautious voice of Daney Duke at the door broke MaryAnne's troubled thoughts. Giving up on the work she had yet to even start on, MaryAnne stood up and went to the door. Seh opened it and came out of the office*

"No thanks. What I want doesn't exactly come in a bottle..."

*hears the question from Daney then looks up just as the office door opens and MaryAnne comes out...sighs a little then nods* I hear you Deputy, I know I need a drink about now.

*Grips the bars and clears throat* Do you think Brian is all right? *asks quietly, dark eyes gazing at the uniformed Deputy, trying to keep a positive frame of mine but can't help but be worried, knowing that MaryAnne must be too...*

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*hears the question from Daney then looks up just as the office door opens and MaryAnne comes out...sighs a little then nods* I hear you Deputy, I know I need a drink about now.

*Grips the bars and clears throat* Do you think Brian is all right? *asks quietly, dark eyes gazing at the uniformed Deputy, trying to keep a positive frame of mine but can't help but be worried, knowing that MaryAnne must be too...*

*Brian was, at the moment, alright. In fact, he was about to test the range of the shotgun he had appropriated from the trunk of Jack's car. He caught the motion of one Lieutenant Morrison in flight, and quickly brought the shotgun up and rested the stock against the front of his shoulder. Jack had picked that exact moment to peek around the tree he was hiding behind....*

BA-BLAM! *the loud report of the shotgun cracked through the air. Instantly, bits of wood and bark exploded from Jack's protective tree, just about a foot over his head. A rain of timber splinters and wood grit sprinkled down to earth, the sound of the falling debris agonizingly clear in the quiet countyside.*

*Brian popped in another couple of shells, reloading fast and pumping the gun. He took aim again, daring Jack to move....*

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*Brian was, at the moment, alright. In fact, he was about to test the range of the shotgun he had appropriated from the trunk of Jack's car. He caught the motion of one Lieutenant Morrison in flight, and quickly brought the shotgun up and rested the stock against the front of his shoulder. Jack had picked that exact moment to peek around the tree he was hiding behind....*

BA-BLAM! *the loud report of the shotgun cracked through the air. Instantly, bits of wood and bark exploded from Jack's protective tree, just about a foot over his head. A rain of timber splinters and wood grit sprinkled down to earth, the sound of the falling debris agonizingly clear in the quiet countyside.*

*Brian popped in another couple of shells, reloading fast and pumping the gun. He took aim again, daring Jack to move....*

*Jack flinched and pressed the front of his body against the tree, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had to get out of there, he had to get back some kind of advantage if he expected to ever make it home again. He reached in for his 9mm from the shoulder holster and then turned his body carefully so that his back now pressed against the tree trunk. Brian was using the shotgun, which meant he had to reload after discharging the two shells. Jack had heard the pump action of the gun soon enough after the shots were fired and knew Brian had reloaded rather quickly. Still...he had to reload, which gave Jack only a few precious seconds to take advantage of.*

*Jack held the 9mm in front of him and breathed slowly, trying to slow his racing heart. He waited several long moments, sensing that the powerful shotgun was aimed directly at the tree he was hidden behind, before turning his head to the left and leaning out ever so slightly to peer jsut a hair around the tree trunk...*

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*Jack flinched and pressed the front of his body against the tree, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had to get out of there, he had to get back some kind of advantage if he expected to ever make it home again. He reached in for his 9mm from the shoulder holster and then turned his body carefully so that his back now pressed against the tree trunk. Brian was using the shotgun, which meant he had to reload after discharging the two shells. Jack had heard the pump action of the gun soon enough after the shots were fired and knew Brian had reloaded rather quickly. Still...he had to reload, which gave Jack only a few precious seconds to take advantage of.*

*Jack held the 9mm in front of him and breathed slowly, trying to slow his racing heart. He waited several long moments, sensing that the powerful shotgun was aimed directly at the tree he was hidden behind, before turning his head to the left and leaning out ever so slightly to peer jsut a hair around the tree trunk...*

*Meanwhile back at Tri-Counties Hosptial, Julie is getting anxious and unaware of what is going on between Brian and Lt. Jack Morrison. Isn't funny that she is considering a career in law enforcement after what she did to that Atlanta cop now that is pretty funny now. Funny, she doesn't feel like she needs to stay another night what does the docter know anyways besides he just told her she needs to rest for the weekend and that race is coming up as well.

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*Jack flinched and pressed the front of his body against the tree, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had to get out of there, he had to get back some kind of advantage if he expected to ever make it home again. He reached in for his 9mm from the shoulder holster and then turned his body carefully so that his back now pressed against the tree trunk. Brian was using the shotgun, which meant he had to reload after discharging the two shells. Jack had heard the pump action of the gun soon enough after the shots were fired and knew Brian had reloaded rather quickly. Still...he had to reload, which gave Jack only a few precious seconds to take advantage of.*

*Jack held the 9mm in front of him and breathed slowly, trying to slow his racing heart. He waited several long moments, sensing that the powerful shotgun was aimed directly at the tree he was hidden behind, before turning his head to the left and leaning out ever so slightly to peer jsut a hair around the tree trunk...*

*....and putting his eye within range of the terrible shotgun. Tempting as the target was, however, no shot was fired at Jack. Not quite yet. Though the double-barrled shotgun was leveled at the tree, at the height of Jack's head, with uneering accuracy.*

*Brian might have wanted more of a sure bet in the way of a target, or he might have been trying to unnerve his prey. Or perhaps he was trying to tempt Jack into something rash, something foolish.*

*In the background, the tranquil sounds of the country filled the air. Birds sang and warbled amongst the tall pines. Insects hummed. A distant whinny came from a horse pasture. A soft, southern breeze, warm and easy, stirred the tall field grass. The peace was an illusion, for the two men who stood to trade life and death.*

*Throughout that lifelong minute, one dark eye never veered from the target. Brian waited in a hunter's stance, the shotgun at ready, and watched Jack, waiting for him to expose more than that sliver of a target he was offering from behind the tree.*

*There was another option though, to flush out the prey. The beautiful thing about a double-barreled shotgun, is that there are two triggers, allowing for both barrels to be fired at once - as Brian had done last time - or, each trigger could be pulled separately, discharging one barrel at a time. It might be wise to hold a round in reserve. If Jack was careless and not paying attention, he might make a false, and fatal assumption about his enemy's need to immediately reload.*

*Without warning, without any indication that he was about to fire, Brian's forefinger tapped the left trigger of the shotgun. A single, powerful blast from one barrel hit the center of the tree, tearing out a chunk of the bark and wood.*

KA-BLAM!

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