With a princess killer to catch, a host of fairy-tale characters to wrangle and a crumbling career to resurrect, fallen hotshot Agent Fields has his hands full. And that's before the case leads to a story-obsessed, dimension-hopping scientist, hellb...
Two iridescent, scaled eyebrow ridges drew together, and from one of the flared nostrils, just the barest trickle of smoke emerged. "And what's wrong with Graham? One of my favourite nurses was called Graham."
"Nothing, nothing," placated Peregrine. "Truly awesome name, just super. Suits you, actually. Okay Graham, now if you could just scooch down a little, I'll climb—"
"No way, Peregrine." Fields' sense of duty was now allied to his long-forgotten desire to be a dragonrider and had become an even more serious force to be reckoned with. "I'm going."
"I don't think so. Besides, I need you to stay here and do something about that." She indicated the portal, which had visibly grown even in the few short minutes since Fields had last looked at it.
"Me? Why don't you stay and sort it out? I've already had a go. Stand aside, Peregrine—this is my ride."
"Ha! Not if I get there first!"
Several seconds of undignified scuffling and slapping later, the two agents paused, breathing heavily. Somberly, they regarded the dragon's long, gleaming back, which it had obligingly stretched out before them.
"Uh, Graham?"
"Yes, Peregrine?"
"I don't suppose you can retract those bad-boys?"
"Bad-boys? What bad-boys?"
"Um, the vicious, completely lethal-looking spikes you have right along your spine? The ones that mean there's absolutely nowhere for either of us to—you know—sit?"
The sinuous neck turned, the regal head regarded the scaled, glittering length of its own powerful body. "Ah, I see. Give me a moment." The brow ridges came together again, the jeweled eyes flashed, but the spikes remained firmly in place. "Hmm, it would seem not. Still, no matter."
"No matter?" demanded Fields. "No matter? How the hell are we going to go after Radovic if we can't ride you?"
"Simple. Which one of you has the strongest belt?"
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As the only one actually wearing a belt, Fields had come up trumps in that respect. And it was this very same belt the dragon clutched with its powerful talons as they soared through the gathering dusk, following the winding course of the narrow road leading away from the Dish. To his intense mortification, rather than becoming a dragonrider, Fields had wound up a dragon-dangler.
Still, irrespective of his damaged dignity, he had a job to do. Shelving his disappointment, he wiped the tears from his streaming eyes and focused on spotting Radovic's car. He didn't have long to wait.
"There!" he bellowed, at the sight of the silver SUV barrelling along far below. "That's him!"
"No need to shout, you know. This vessel appears to have excellent hearing. Ah yes, I see. Let's take a closer look, shall we?"
With a gut-wrenching swoop, the dragon tucked in its wings and dived, accelerating towards the speeding vehicle, its roof soon just metres below Fields dangling feet. Trying hard to regain his breath, he considered the situation. Even though his quarry was now so tantalisingly close, he was at something of a loss as to how to proceed.
Until, with a spurt of inspiration, he remembered the radio in his pocket. "Radovic? Radovic, can you hear me? You need to pull over—the game's up."
There were a few long seconds of silence before—to Fields' intense relief—the scientist replied. "Still deluding yourself, Agent Fields? Why on this benighted, backward Earth would I pull over? When I possess the only drivable car for miles around? When you have no possible way of pursuing me? You need to man up and accept the facts, Fields. When it comes to games, I'm afraid you've lost and I've won, hnyah-hnyah."
"If you say so. Hey, listen, the weather's pretty nice this time of year—why don't you open your sunroof?"
"What?" barked Radovic. "What are you on about? Why the hell would I do that?"
"Well, you know, apart from the fresh air, there's also something you should probably see."
"Fields, I've had just about enough of you and your blathering."
"How about you humour me, prof? Or are you scared you might not be winning after all?"
"Scared?" The sunroof opened. "I'll show you scared, you ignorant, pathetic..."
Even from his precarious vantage point, Fields could clearly make out the distinct 'O' Radovic's mouth made, as he gaped up at the silvery, scaled beast soaring above him, with a bedraggled federal agent dangling from its underside.
Fields gave him a cheery wave. "Surprise, dickhead. Who's winning now? Might be time to pull over, huh?"
"Never!" To Fields' consternation the SUV, already comfortably exceeding the speed limit, put on a new burst of acceleration. "Nothing can stop me now. Not Frank's dithering incompetence, not those wretched princesses, with their mooning eyes and their pathetic pleading, not you and that Peregrine bitch, and certainly not some ridiculous, story-book dragon. These new algorithms of Frank's were the final piece, Fields—the key to unmatched power. Now that power is mine, and soon this world will be too. I'll never stop. Never!"
Bugger. Putting away the radio, Fields addressed Graham. "We need to stop him, somehow. Can you sort of, you know, give him a nudge or something? Or maybe we could fly ahead a bit and set up a road-block? Ooh, ooh, I know—you can drop me onto the car, and I can climb in the sunroof. Hang on, he's just closed it. Bummer. Maybe we could—"
Blindingly bright, searingly hot, and completely without warning, an incandescent column of fire lanced down, instantaneously transforming the hurtling car into a hurtling fireball, a blazing wreck that rapidly veered off the road, before cartwheeling wildly off into the adjoining dunes.
"What a knob-head. Anyway, that seems to have stopped him. Now, what's next?"
