Chicagoland MG Club: Driveline February 2010

Tales of the Mongrel
The Neutralizer

PROLOGUE: The Neutralizer was not a policeman, US Marshal, agent or government employee of any kind. He was a highly decorated Special Forces soldier who had seen action in the Balkans, Somalia, Angola and various Middle Eastern countries. He was fully qualified as a class 10 sniper, small and automatic arms expert and specialist in close quarters and hand-to-hand combat. The Neutralizer’s career was mentored and closely watched by a Mr. James Evans of US Justice Department. Jim was now the “Big Fed” running the Justice department and had personally supervised the construction of the “Farm” which was a super secret anti-terrorist surveillance and eradication compound tucked somewhere in the Allegheny Mountains. It was Evans who recruited Ralph Arata a.k.a. the Neutralizer to “contract” for the Farm. It was Arata that the Big Fed assigned special missions to when the US President had no other choices!
PREVIOUSLY: Sir William, former British SAS gone rogue, masterminded a plot that employed pirate signals via satellite to create havoc with US nuclear power generators causing the Yankee Nuclear to nearly meltdown. The catastrophe was avoided but Sir William was after bigger fish and potential for worldwide disaster was so great that the Neutralizer had been called upon for his special services. Sir William’s trail had led Arata to Novisad, Serbia where Sir William had been somehow able to track his moves and capture him.
THE STORY CONTINUES……… His head swam as he fought thru semi-conscienous! His vision was blurred, as if driving thru a thick, wet fog at night. The Neutralizer had found Sir William’s lair in Novisad, with the help of the farm’s computer genius, Reinout Vogt, who had tracked Sir William’s pirate signal via the NSA’s most sophisticated satellite cybernetics. The soldier had succumbed to an ambush by six of Sir Williams’s hard men.
The room that contained him was dark and bare, devoid of furniture other than the heavy metal table shoved up against the far wall. There was a panel of lights above Arata, and a bright, hot lamp on a table pointed at his face. A drain was set in the concrete floor at his feet. The soldier noticed the dark stains on the fixtures.
His eyes slowly focused to the man standing in front of him. A Brit in BDU fatigues devoid of rank, insignia or national affiliation. He was clean shaven and had bright black eyes. “Wake up my old friend”. The imposing figure leaned in close with mock concern on his face. How are you feeling my old friend – you got a little banged up before.
Sir William lifted his gaze from Arata and nodded to another man standing nearby. Arata had a sense of someone moving around him. Then, the punch caught him straight across the jaw and rocked his head to the right. “Be gentle Harold” quipped Sir William. The Neutralizer set his jaw and tensed against his retrains and they gave ever so slightly.
“You need to know that using one of your country’s own satellites to program some mischief with a few power stations, was only a practice run”. “The real program will run in approx two hours – a meltdown of a nuclear test lab at Langley,


Virginia. One that your government will not be able to stop as the material they are playing with is only experimental”. “Imagine having Virginia, DC, Maryland and parts of Pennsylvania a wasteland”. “I am being paid well for this and may even consider retirement my friend!” “The funny thing is that the computer that operates my little pet is located in a police station in Ruma……operating right under their, stupid noses”.
Arata looked away and sagged his back against the chair as his thumb popped free of the rope. Harold came forward again and grabbed the soldier by the back of his hair posed for the next strike. The Neutralizer slipped his arm out of the loosened ropes. Harold came closer. The Neutralizer’s hand slapped up like a coiled snake around the back of the interrogator’s neck into a headlock and with a quick punch behind the ear and Harold sunk to the cellar floor. Sir William was nowhere to be seen – the soldier was alone. No time to waste as the Neutralizer ran down the corridor to the steps leading back out to the pedestrian mall in Novisad. Two of Sir William’s stood guard but the soldier took them out in short order.
Up the steps and out into the sunlight of day. The Neutralizer had recovered his keys from Harold and hit the remote starter/tracker that ignited his race prepared MGB. The remote starter was a “special option” placed in the custom built MG by the Farm’s automotive expert, Tom “The Doctor” Josefek. The soldier ran back down the pedestrian mall boulevard toward the main road and back to Belgrade. He could hear the throaty roar of the MGs dual exhaust system and ran toward it. The Neutralizer jumped into the B’s cockpit, rammed the shifter into first and accelerated thru a 180 degree donut toward the town of Ruma. The B’s voice activated GPS came alive and the soldier saw that Ruma was 8 miles southeast…….six minutes at racing speed!
There was little time to spare – Sir William had left only minutes before but he also knew the Neutralizer’s abilities and would not assume anything………he would call ahead to prepare the satellite relays for their final show.
The B’s race prepared Cosworth V-6 transplant was a big asset when speed was needed but the patchwork roads of post-conflict Serbia required a hearty and nimble suspension to handle them. The Doctor had just that under the MG’s skin. A full sensor driven electronic gas shock system on all 4’s aided by special compound Pirelli P8 50 series tires. Arata had the B at 70 in mere seconds with the Doctor’s special aluminum alloy A-arms, springs, base plates, etc…. flexing at a tire hungry road. Southeast of Novisad, the terrain quickly became mountainous and the roads winding but the MGB’s 10 inch Porsche-styled steering wheel under the soldier’s practiced hands took the curves with ease.
A sign post for Ruma appeared just ahead and Arata steered the British steel to the side. Weapons check! Where the MGB’s battery was traditionally housed was an electronically powered weapons-well. The Neutralizer hit the compartment code panel just beneath the glove box and the weapons rack rose from below deck.
He attached the micro handset and called the Farm on the secure wireless line and after a number of beeps and clicks a voice came on loud and clear. “Where the devil have you been”, said Reinout Vogt, the Farm’s computer genius! “I will fill you in on my detour later”, replied Arata. “Right now we need to get a fix on a certain police station in Ruma and our

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