Incoming...
Ex-DARPA scientist Professor
Dan Dooley has fallen on hard times since getting the axe for withholding the blueprints to his ultimate invention- a
jet pack harness whose properties far exceeded his expectations.
Unwilling to see the device deployed by heavy weapons crowd controllers over every main street in a country going to hell, he believes he’s succeeded in destroying the prototype beyond repair as he drowns the troubles of his blacklisted career, criminal record and family estrangement at the bottom of an endless blur of methylated spirit bottles.
Witnessing a hit and run on his nightly bender through the streets of LA, Dooley is soon confronted by teenage carjacker and fly-by-night card-cloner
Jackon Torson. When the boy finds himself unwilling to carry out gangland orders to execute the vagrant, the two are pursued by the killers to the same scrapyard where the professor had the pack’s remains crushed. Pausing from cursing each other out long enough to retrieve and activate a bashed engine component, the pair escape only by inadvertently vaporizing the leader of the enclosing hunters.
Both now prime targets for the city’s most powerful crime syndicate, the two fugitives are brought to the attention of the US military rogue faction with whom Dooley refused to play ball, the cabal repaying the favour by destroying what remained of the professor's life through the planting of damning evidence on his work terminals. Evidence Torson believes he can work back to its source, if Dooley gets him his last shot at skipping town for good by piecing together a certain pile of junk now waiting in professor’s lock up.
But within the concrete canyons of Manhattan,
Dr Frederick Ranson, a very different kind of genius, has assessed that negligible as they may be as individuals, Torson and Dooley have the potential to become a very aggravating thorn in the side of his brain jar… and concludes that another DARPA creation consigned to the back burner requires bringing out of storage. On waking the scramjet man-machine known as the
Demiurge, deemed too dangerous for even the Deep Black special forces corps he’d been engineered to fight for, will likely to take a dim view on the two responsible for the disintegration of his only son, murdering street hood or not…
