The CWA of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #105: Doctor At Large

-=fig.655: it's a gif=-

The Jaguar sped along the rocky terrain, badly absorbing every shock.
  “Wheeee!” Capt. Brown yelled, he liked going fast.
  “AAAAAHHH!” Yelled Dr. Smith, he wasn't too fond of getting tossed about like this. In fact {He thought} If only there were some kind of…strap…holding him into the car… “OW!” he shouted. “JAMES!” He had to speak loudly to make himself heard over the wind “WE'RE TOO LOW! THE EQUALIZERS CAN'T HANDLE IT, TAKE US UP ABOUT TEN FEET.”
James sighed, although of course it went unheard because of the wind. The Higher up you went, the slower it felt like you were going. But he knew being this low and going this fast over terrain like this was much too dangerous an activity to persist in, so he toggled a switch in the vicinity of his left knee and pulled back on the newly unlocked steering wheel.
  They soared into the air.
  The equalizers finally met their minimum operating distance, and the ride smoothed out.
  As they rose a cloud of dust came into view.
 “What's that?” Asked Capt. Brown.
 “Dunno, But I don't like it. Take us down over there.” Dr. Smith gestured at the top of a nearby hill.
Capt. Brown Set them down gently and they got out.

-=fig. 656: the dust makers=-

  “Who are they?” Whispered Dr. Smith, kneeling next to Capt. Brown.
  “Judging by the flag they're the french army, but look at them!  All fancy and organised in their uniforms, this is not the french army of old.”
A soldier happened to look up. “Vous là-bas!” He yelled, pointing.
  “Uh oh.” Capt. Brown said, standing up and smiling. “They've spotted us–Bonjour, Bonjour! Comment ça va mon peuples amis! Stand up Zachary. Smile.”
  “James, you know I don't smil–Ow! Fine.”
A frenchman wearing a peaked cap who seemed to be in charge got out of the tank-type thing he was driving and started shouting at the top of the hill.
  “Descends de là à la fois.” He commanded.
Capt. Brown gave him a ten dollar smile, “Bien sûr, bien sûr. À la fois. C'mon Zachary, We're going down there.”
  “Down–No.”
  “Yes.”
  “No!”

-=fig. 657: being friendly in an effort not to get shot=-

“Bonjour, monsieur l'homme.” Capt. Brown said with a grin, saluting. He smiled as if this were the funniest thing in the world. 

 Corporal Chaton did find it very funny. 

  “C'est Corporels Chaton pour vous, des espions.” He said. 

  “Spies!” Capt. Brown said, forgetting himself. 

  “Ah! Legopolians. So you are Spies.”

  “Are not!” Dr. Smith said, defending his friend.

  “Then what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Hmm?”

 Dr. Smith was a genius in many things, but thinking up stories under pressure was not one of them.  

  “We're just passing though.” He decided on eventually, after all, it was true. 

  “Tourists eh? And so where is your car then, Touristiques?

 Dr. Smith saw a problem with this line of questioning, but pressed on.

  “At the top of the hill.” He sagged slightly. He knew how impossible it sounded.

 Corporal Chaton took a long look at the ‘Hill’, Its sides were almost vertical and it was covered in scrub brush. “le petit espion” Corporal Chaton said “Does not wish to re-think his answer?”

Capt. Brown figured this would be the time to intervene. 

 “Corporal, If you send someone to the top of the hill, I promise you will find a genuine mostly fuelled 1935 Jaguar MK IV and in its trunk our passports and bags. This has been a pleasure, Gentlemen, But I assure you we need to get going. Zachary.”

  “Hold It. You are not going anywhere, spies.”

 “We aren't spies! Didn't we just prove that?”

  “You proved nothing and are now my prisoners. Agents, de les arrêter.” 

-=fig. 658: parading the spies on the desert road=-

Capt. Brown shuffled along, the chains hurt his wrists. “So, Corporal, Where're we going?”
  “Détenu taire.” growled the soldier that was jamming a gun in his back.
  “non,” Said Corporal Chaton “il n'y a aucun mal à le connaître, il ne vivra pas long temps de toute façon. Heh Heh Heh ¹. We are going to the Russian Border, Brown Prisoner, Where you will, tragically, die. Saving me a novella of paperwork. Your Car, Of course, will be declared Spoils Of War and will go to the on-duty officer. Me.”

  “Oh.” Capt. Brown said, then in a whisper to Dr. Smith “If I can get us out of this, can we go home?”

  “Sure.” Dr. Smith whispered back.  This whole ‘Fugitive’ thing wasn't working out like he had hoped. 

click

Capt. Brown's lockpick caused his chains to slide off, and in less than a second he was armed, he aimed the right gun at Corporal Chaton and fired the left one into the air. “Attention!” He shouted in his best basso voce “Vous allez nous laisser aller ou le caporal sera là lui!” 

 “Le faire!” Said the Corporal. 

The Soldier who was guarding them came and undid Dr. Smith's chains, And the driver of their jag reluctantly got out.  

  “Home, James.” Dr. Smith said. 

  At Capt. Brown's touch the engine roared into life.

 “You have made this easy on me,” Said Corporal Chaton with a grin. “I do not have to go all the way to the russian border, now. Ils fuient, leur tirer dessus!” 

“That's our cue.” Capt. Brown said, shifting into Flight Gear as the bullets started flying. 

-=fig. 659: flying home=-

¹In case you can't read french, ‘Heh Heh Heh.’ translates pretty roughly to “Hah Hah Hah.” In english.