The next day came with a warm smile for James in the form of reflective chrome, smiling his own warped reflection back at him from the depths of a nearby garage.  His trusty motorbike of 6 years, which he slid his hand along gently, caressing the cool steel build and rubber handlebars with a firm grip.
	"Ohhhh I've missed you..."
He said this with a loving tone as he looked it over to see what damage it took.  Mostly scrapes to the chassis, but mainly the damage was to the underside, the muffler especially when it hit the Armee's more armoured vehicles.  Nothing he couldn't handle even with his apprentice-level skill with mechanics.  Plus he desperately needed something to do with the self-imposed house arrest he and Sarah put on himself.
	"Don't worry sweetie, I'll fix you good...I got all night."
Smirking to himself with his faux-romantic tones, he got out the tools from a nearby cabinet.  The garage he was in was essentially the home of his bike, which did not have a name, though in the street races his name was Rex.  In terms of skill, he was somewhere above average.  There was nothing particularly special about his style or his handling, other than his occasional suicidal streaks that frightened other racers.  In all honesty, the other racers thought him an idiot to use a British bike, instead of something more souped up like anything from Japan.

But he loved the Triumph dearly, the relationship starting from it being a special gift from a special male friend, an older gentleman he met in a club and became rather good friends.  He had taught the raptor some mechanics and gave him the bike, which compared to his range of other bikes was actually a rather cheap offering.  Yet he loved it so, even after the original owner moved shop 3 years ago, and would never trade it for anything in the world.
	"Yanno we still got guys and girls out here, you don't have to start on machines yet."
Sarah's sarcastic tone came from behind the raptor who was caught in a rather embarrassing position of caressing his motorcycle, lips against the lower chassis.
	"I always have a little love for everyone in my life."
	"Problem is there aren't that many in your life and one of them doesn't even have a heart."
	"I know, I've worked with you eight years."
	"Hey!"
A joking threat of a clip round the ear came as James sniggered to himself before asking:
	"Watcha need boss?"
	"We uh...we need to talk.  I got some news from the Fishnet."
	"I'm just finishing with the muffler, gimme ten minutes?"
She nodded and walked back to the bar as he kept working on his bike, trying to forget about the Armee with the hypnotic sheen of his bike, wondering when the next street race would be.  Even though Sarah had this motherly instinct for him to not want him to go, especially after breaking his arm a few years back in one of them, he still loved the thrill of the speed.
Perhaps the love of speed was in his genes, harkening back from the ancient days when dinosaurs truly roamed the earth.  The thrill of the hunt, the surge of the chase.  Riding on a motorcycle to hunt down 1st place brought something out in him.  He felt completely different when revving up to anything beyond 120mph, hell his Triumph could be able to barely reach 220mph.  Which made him feel like he was on heroin, when the world screamed past him in hyper-Doppler mode.
At least, that was what what James was thinking, other than the part of the dinosaurs and the genes.  He never did have a chance to learn about any history other than a few World Wars.  All he knew was that he felt like he had a beast inside him sometimes.  A beast that loved the high-octane.

After cleaning himself of grease from his bike, James walked back in the bar with a grin on his face, only to be met by Sarah's sour expression.
	"Did someone put a tab out boss?"
She didn't say anything, but instead only handed him a newspaper.  James read the headline story, which he read out to himself.
	"The search continues for the wanted fugitive James Robert Campbell violently assaulted Army officials and vandalising Army property.  All citizens are advised to be on the lookout for he is unarmed but extremely dangerous, last seen on his Triumph motorcycle near Lincoln Highway's entrance.
	"If anyone has seen him or his motorcycle, registration W89 IG4, please contact your local police authority with discretion and do not attempt to confront him yourselves."
On the one hand, they were still searching for him which was good that they weren't any closer to finding him, not even knowing where exactly in Chicago he even lived.  On the other hand, they would surely find out he was at least still in Canaryville.  Sarah folded her arms and said:
	"Things are starting to cook up.  It gets worse by the way.  Few of our pals' places got overturned looking for ya.  We're keeping quiet but they got a trail on ya."
	"Oh god they haven't found out about the Fishnet have they?"
	"Not yet.  But I'm getting worried, so we're beefing up our security in it.  Monty's was the last place they checked."
	"But that's only four blocks away!"
	"Yep..."
	"Wh...what do I do?  This is all my fault!"
	"No, it's the Armee's fault for messing with you.  No matter what happens, we'll keep ya safe."
	"I understand but why would the Net want to risk themselves for me?"
	"Because I'm the boss and whatever I say goes.  Also, we can't fold into the Armee's demands, that'd make us hypocrites."
	"...th-thanks."
He hugged the dolphin softly, worried and yet honoured to have someone so protective in his life.
	"You really are the closest I have to a mum."
	"I know Rex."  She replied with a gentle kiss to his head before James had to ask:
	"If they come here...what'll happen?"
	"I'll just see what they want.  They wanna inspect the place, they go right ahead and do it cuz they're never finding you.  It's way too risky to have you outside though, don't you have a pal's place in Boystown to shack up with?"
	"You mean Mahmoud?  He moved three years ago."
	"Damn."
	"We'll think of something, there's always the hiding place downstairs right?"
	"I guess.  Now I'm more worried about my bar, I just cleaned this up and all."
	"Well-"

An interruption came in the form of someone bursting through the door.  A young bear wheezing heavily from running.
	"Boss!"
	"Dammit, don't fucking do that Goldie, cantcha see we're on alert here?!?"
	"We got bad news, the Army caught Chip!"
	"WHAT!?!?!  How?!?!?"
	"He got picked up by the cops for smuggling, and the Armee were there checking everyone."
	"What the hell were the Army doing checking criminals?!"
	"They made this deal with the police to quiz any and all of 'em about Rex, in case any of 'em knew him."
	"What did Chip say!?!?" blurted out James, panicking more.
	"He said he...used your bike last month and knew where it was parked, he got panicky about the drugs."
	"I...oh goddamnit I fucking KNEW he took my bike!"
	"Fuck yer bike!" roared Sarah, "Why did nobody find out the Armee were checking people at the police station on any crime?!?"
	"I-i-i dunno!"
	"Do any of you realise what you've done!?  NOW they're gonna trace us back here!  EVERYTHING'S CONNECTED WITH THE FISHNET YOU FUCKING MORONS!"
	"I'm sorry!"
	"Yeah?  Well you'll be sorry when they pull all of us in.  We have to cut the net.  Goldie, get out there and tell everyone to cut the net, we can't let anyone else get caught.  If they come here then at least you all can get away.  I'm gonna be ready."
	"But boss we can-"
	"Tell everyone to cut the net NOW!  A captain always goes down with his ship.  Now GO!"
The bear ran off out of the back entrance for safety to relay the message, leaving behind two incredibly nervous characters.  James was even more nervous, worrying about what would happen to Sarah in the Army's way to get to him.
	"I'm sorry."
	"Not yer fault.  Chip was always useless, at least we can get rid of him."
	"If it wasn't for my stupid bike-"
	"Shut UP!  If we can't win, we at least go down fighting."
	"I know what they want with me but what about you Sarah?  What's gonna happen to you!?!"
	"I don't care, yer like a son to me and I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you ever!"
	"Sarah-"
	"I said shut up!"
She raised a hand as a threat to strike him.  James tried to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes as he felt the pressure weighing down on him.  He didn't worry sp much about the rest of the Fishnet, but he loved Sarah.  She was the only friend he ever truly had in his life, and if the Armee planned on taking that away from him, he couldn't live after such.
The two began to plan their strategy.  Sarah knew the bar would be wrecked either way so she began to pile up the furniture against both doors, putting valuables in the hidden room such as her makeup or special bottles of expensive drinks.  James gathered his own personal valuables, a few toys and gifts from others.  One such item was a small motorcycle toy, cast in pure silver.  Something he always kept near him every night.

The wait somehow felt more agonising than the actual raid, if it ever came.  Sarah stood armed against the bar with her two special guns.  Thelma, a Colt Kodiak .44 magnum revolver, and Louise, a Lupara sawed-off shotgun.  Ammo laid underneath the bar ready to be deployed.  James stood beside her, worrying intensely before she said:
	"Calm down."
	"I can't."
	"You're the target here.  I just play it cool, long as you're okay, we're fine."
	"But they'll kill you when they see you wielding those!"
	"I lived a good life."
	"But I need you!"
	"You'll have to live without me, soon as the coast is clear you leave this city and-"
	"NO!"
He hugged her tightly and began to weep, straining out a few murmuring words.
	"I can't lose another mum...don't do this."
One of the few times James ever saw a tear come out of Sarah's eyes was there and then.  She hugged James in return to whisper:
	"Shhhh...it's okay baby...it's okay.  Yer gonna make something of yourself and get rid of those bastards, I know it.  And one day you come back and find me.  I'll be here, I promise."
	"How can you even promise that?"
	"Mothers always do."
With that phrase he kissed her cheek.  After a few minutes of staying close, she heard the rushing footsteps of her opposition.
	"This is it.  Go to the room, remember the code?"
	"Left, right, half-left, right?"
	"Good boy.  Now go."
	And with that James ran maddeningly fast to the storage room and steadied his clawfinger to twist it correctly in the hole to open the door, before closing himself into the room.  All he could hear outside was the muffled sound of breaking wood and an argument begin between the Army and Sarah.
	"Citizen, this is a martial sweep of the area.  Open up and allow us to commence a search on your property."
	"What do you want?  We're closed!"
	"We've had reports on the fugitive hiding here, is he in there?"
	"I don't have any criminals in stock, sorry!"
	"This is your last warning, ma'am.  Stand down or else we will commence our assault."
	"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"
And with that came the last splintered cracks of wood before several violent shots were fired between both of them.  James recognised the sounds of Sarah's guns firing back.  A few male yells of pain made him joyful, but were soon extinguished with Sarah's yelps before she screamed:
	"I DON'T FUCKING SERVE YOUR KIND!"
Then came one last last scream of agony from the middle-aged dolphin, as the Armee rushed her hard.  He could hear the many beatings flailing upon her, before she fell silent.  The men then said:
	"Check all the rooms and turn over everything, he's gotta be here."
	"But sir, what about her?"
	"We'll deal with her later, now move!"

All he knew then, was that he was trapped in a hidden room, surrounded by mementos from both him and her.  The Armee was slowly ruining his life, coming ever closer to break him into little pieces of experiment.  James sat with his head in his knees, weeping.  He clutched the few pieces of his childhood, or rather his attempt to build one in his later years within his hands as his strange new mind went on its own little railways of thought.
He began to think on the little toys he held, small models of dragons and space pirates.  Maybe it was trying to comfort him, despite mentally telling himself to stop fucking around and let him cry.  But it refused to do so as it kept linking the pictures together, connecting dots with words he didn't recognise but chose to ignore.  He began to wish he wasn't here.
James wished to be somewhere else, far far away.  He knew it never worked, not even in those films about true lives of domestic abuse that somehow you want to watch to feel better about yourself.  Yet he tried.  He was desperate for anything, begging for something good to happen in his life.  He needed this.  He almost prayed with all of his heart.
It started as a tingling in his body, which he thought was him shaking with grief.  But it felt not so much muscular as rather...electrical.  Like little pinpricks of sparks riding up his arms.  Not painful, just...tingling.  His eyes dried a little as he was distracted by the light starting to appear around him.
A calm blue light seemed to beseech to James to come towards it, with an almost heavenly radiance.  It was accompanied by a strange cool wind around his body, wrapping around him like an invisible snake.  Solid yet soothing, covering him within aerial coils as a rushing sound soon came.
An odd sense of displacement soon followed, as the light turned brighter and brighter, reaching his eyes and daring to fill them with its unnatural essence as he saw nothing but light.  The tingling turned stronger as he felt his body being pulled into a powerful darkness that suddenly swallowed the light along with him.
And as the rushing sound turned louder, like the howling winds of the Arctic daring to tear his scales off, everything stopped.  Soon he felt nothing.

No sound.

No sight.

No thoughts.

Nothing.