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Captain Scarlet: Spectrum Pursuit! – A Gerry Anderson A21 News Story

The brilliant red Spectrum Saloon tore along the winding cliff road with a scream of its gas turbine engine. The quivering needle of the speedometer touched one hundred and twenty miles per hour.

Captain Scarlet gripped the controls and executed a death-defying power-slide around a blind bend, sending a spray of small stones hurtling over the edge and down into the dazzling ocean far below. The twisting road straightened, curving away from the cliff and stretching towards the mountains on the horizon.

Far in the distance beyond the hazy heat mirage of the road, Scarlet could just make out the gleaming white shape of the giant truck. It had a good head start, but Scarlet was rapidly catching up with it.

“Captain Blue, I can see the transporter! It’s a few miles ahead!”
Captain Blue’s measured tone came back over Scarlet’s cap radio, “SIG, Captain Scarlet. I’m airborne and should be with you in less than two minutes!”

Scarlet thought of the countless canisters of deadly nerve agent packed into the rear of the truck, just waiting for the Mysterons to unleash on an unsuspecting world. The grim thought gave him fresh determination and he pressed his foot down harder.

Now the saloon was doing one hundred and forty, surging along the tarmac surface as little more than a red blur.

Scarlet caught a glimpse of something in the sky in his rear-view mirror and glanced up. The silver and blue shape of a Spectrum Helicopter drew level with him. From behind the controls Captain Blue spoke into his radio, “I’ll see if I can get up ahead and slow them down!”

The helicopter surged onward, its powerful jet motors firing at full power and its rotors slicing the air at dizzying speed.

Scarlet kept up the pursuit. The transporter truck seemed to be slowing. It was only about a mile in front now. If they could keep up their speed, Scarlet was certain that the Mysteron agents were as good as caught.

Then an uncanny feeling of danger hit him. Even in the midst of his tremendous concentration, something broke through to his conscious mind. He swerved violently and then quickly brought the vehicle back under control.

“Captain Scarlet, what’s wrong?” Blue’s voice sounded anxious.
“I don’t know. I just had a sudden feeling— Adam! Look out!”

A plume of flame and smoke burst from the cab of the now stationary transporter and something flew straight towards the Spectrum Helicopter.

“Heat-seeker! And it’s locked onto me!”

Scarlet watched as the Helicopter nose-dived out of the missile’s path. The projectile arced around in the clear blue sky and came whooshing back towards the Spectrum craft. In the cockpit, Captain Blue stabbed a button on the control panel and a dazzling shower of lights bloomed from the rear of the vehicle.

Attracted by the heat of the decoy flares, the missile sped straight towards them and exploded with a violent boom.

Blue’s voice sounded tense, “Let’s hope they don’t have too many of those left!”
“They won’t get a chance to use them if they do!”

Scarlet was one hundred yards from the truck and going like a bullet. He flicked a switch on the dashboard and with a whine of hydraulics a reinforced ram protruded from the nose of the saloon car.

The Mysteron agent was reloading his missile launcher in the shelter of the truck’s cab. He didn’t even have time to swing his weapon into position.

The Spectrum Saloon collided with the side of the truck’s cab, travelling through it in less than a second as if it had been made of paper. With a screech of its powerful retro-assisted brakes, the bright red car came to a halt in a cloud of dust and debris.

Scarlet opened the door and stepped out. He looked back at the transporter truck. The cab was completely gone. Only the wheel base remained. However, the rear of the vehicle was completely undamaged. The nerve agent was safe.

He was halfway to the transporter when the Helicopter touched down nearby. Captain Blue clambered out and rushed over to him, a smile creasing his tanned face.

“Well that’s one way to do it. If he’d gotten off another shot I don’t think I’d have been able to evade it. Thanks Paul.”
“Forget it, Adam. Now then, we’d better set about getting this lot cleaned up. I’ll put a call through to the specialists. They can have a team here in half an hour to take charge of the cargo in there.”
“SIG. Oh there’s just one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“How about some lunch? I’m starving.”

Written by
Andrew Clements

A writer, film maker and self confessed Gerry Anderson fanatic. Free to good home.

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