CAR WARS MAILING LIST VERSION : 2.14            15 - JUL - 1997.
        Published/Typed by James Barton.

        -"Car Wars", "Autoduel Quarterly" (ADQ), "Midville" and
"Americain Autoduel Association" (AADA)  are all registered trade
marks of Steve Jackson Games.

        The serialised fiction from Chris J. Burke has arrived, and
instalment one is inserted here for your reading pleasure.  As for
what else I'm going to write here, it isn't much.  There hasn't been
many updates, except for HVD, of which a new one is out today.

        What I will do is remind you all who CJB is, CJB has written
for ADQ, Pyramid, Driving Tigers Magazine (which he edited) as well
as writing GURPS Autoduel II.  Those are some impressive credentials
no, but let's not forget the novella 'Civic Wars'.  If you like what
you are about to read then just head over to Driving Tigers Magazine,
ADQ and have a look round for his stuff.  I'm honoured to have him
writing stuff for the CWML, but enough of me, enjoy.

        All these links can be found at

        Any contributions, news or questions can be sent to.


        Issue #6 is out, and it is of course the best one yet, with
more articles than any HVD in history and also with some 3D renderings
in the refuelling section (check them out - I reckon they look good,
they will get better as I learn my way through the software).  So go
check out the HVD site.

        A couple more duels are going to be added soon, I've found
another couple of referees, more information will be coming out soon.
However get along to the page and have a look.

        We've cracked 100, I decided to count how many subscribers
there are currently and I came up with the magic figure of 100, that's
right 100 people read this every fortnight.  Just thought I'd put that
little milestone in here.


        Been a while since anything has happened here, I'll have a bit
of a look into it before the next CWML.


NOVA                                                    OLD
        Once again they have updated their page, this ones a little
old, another one of their newsletters have been added.  There's a lot
of quality stuff on this page, well worth a wander.  The front page
and also an arenas section has been added.  One of the arenas there is
also in HVD-6.
                                                Last Mod 14-JUL


HVD                                                     OLD
        A new issue is out, HVD-6, it looks pretty good, and I hope
you all enjoy it.  Check out the site for more info.
                                                Last Mod: 15-JUL


                                U.S. 1
         An early adventure of the Driving Tigers/Road Wolves

                       by Christopher J. Burke

 Copyright (c) 1984, 1997 Christopher J. Burke.  All rights reserved.

   Uncle Jack paced back and forth across the conference room.  His
eyes scanned the walls, the floor and the ceiling as if he were
looking for something other than a place to begin.

   The door opened and his secretary, Jessica Ryder, entered followed
by a cafeteria worker with refreshments.  She directed him where to
place the tray and handed Jack his mug, sporting the Wildcat Auto
Works logo, and teeming with fresh-brewed java.  Before Jack could get
out a "Thanks, Jes" the two had gone and the door closed.

   Lucky nearly burned his fingers pouring out four flaming-hot cups,
but that didn't stop Uncle Jack from downing half a mug in his first
gulp. That got him talking.

   "Alright," he started.  "Let me get to business. your business with
me and my business here.

   "First, I want to thank you for your quick response.  I want to
commend you for making the trip from New York to Baltimore on such
short notice.  I'm impressed that you *could* make the trip so fast.
It tells me that you are suited for the task I have for you.

   "WAW has had a crisis on our hands for the last two months.  The
usual industrial stuff, I won't trouble you with the details --
they're not important.  This morning, it went beyond all that.  This
morning, it got personal.

   "WAW president, Victor Cose, and I took in an early meeting in the
conference room down the hall regarding the sabotage to formulate an
appropriate response.  A couple of minutes before nine, Jes buzzed
that a kid Vic fired last week was at the reception desk.  Don't get
the wrong impression; he was there because I had called him.

   "These raids have frustrated Vic tremendously, and he took it out
on this kid, sent him packing after he lost a package.  He had blown a
tire on Vic's personal duelling machine to boot.  When Vic cooled
down, I convinced him to meet with the kid about taking him back.

   "I escorted him to the conference room and as we approached, I
heard the clock chime nine.  On the ninth chime, the room exploded,
throwing me and the kid against the wall."

   Turbo raised an eyebrow and looked to Lucky who looked to Oddball
who looked to me.  Slowly, the four of us turned our heads toward the
corner of the room.  There stood an old grandfather clock, pendulum
swing left to right and back again.  The hands read five before six.


   We all jumped up, out of the chairs, over the table, under the
table, curling up fetal . . .

   When we heard Uncle Jack's low chuckling, we realized that the
room hadn't exploded and taken us with it.

   "Thanks for the laugh, boys.  It's the first one I've had all day.
Naturally, we swept the building immediately for other devices.
Particularly the clocks."

   We picked ourselves up and took our seats again as Jack continued.
Victor Cose was currently in critical condition at a nearby hospital
but he needed special treatment.  Unfortunately, the treatment he
needed required a small trip:  to Key West, Florida.  One of the great
perks of being a CEO, when you can use your annual physical as an
excuse to take a relaxing vacation on the beach.  Your clone needs a
memory update?  Plan a four-day weekend to take care of it.

   Aint corporate life grand?

   "We can't fly Victor down there for a couple of reasons, the most
important being an inner ear imbalance that could kill him if he
travels at an elevation safe enough for copter travel."

   Uncle Jack called up a map of the Atlantic Coast on the computer
screen.  "Gentlemen, you will be going escort Victor Cose's ambulance
to Key West.  More specifically, to the First Key West Hospital, an
armored fortress built in the old naval base.  He'll be fine once he
gets there, but first he has to get there.  And I'm told that he needs
to be there within the next 48 hours if we're going to save him."

   When Jack had called this morning, he had told me that he needed
some guys to make a run for him.  He hadn't said where to, how far,
or what the mission was or what the cargo would be, but he did tell
me my godfather had been involved in an incident.  By now, I had
guessed what the mission would be but never dreamed of the scope.
I stared at a map outlining a journey of over 1300 miles.  And time
was definitely of the essence.

   Oddball emitted a low growl, his eyes fixated at the map.  It
suddenly hit me what he was complaining about.  After Raliegh, N.C.,
the path veered in an unexpected direction for several hundred miles.
"Uncle Jack, is that the proposed route you want us to take?"

   He hit a key on the PC and the highway starting flashing.  "Yes,
Sean, it is."

   The four of us at the table looked at each other.  Turbo spoke up
first.  "You want us to take U.S. 1?  Pardon me for asking, but I
thought you wanted Mr. Cose to get there alive."

   Jack smiled.  "I'm sure you'll do your best.  If you don't, I'll
personally see to your dissections.  That goes for you, too, Sean.  I
obviously can't play favorites."

   I responded by pouring another cup of coffee.  I knew that Uncle
Jack always had a reason for everything, so I let the other guys hash
this one out.  Lucky came right to the point.

   "As bad as the interstates are, at least they're patrolled and in
some semblance of good repair.  No one travels the old federal roads
except bandits looking for stupid people."

   Turbo spied me relaxing and took that cue to sit back down and hear
the rest of the story.  He poured another cup for himself leaving only
enough for one more cup in the pot.  Oddball's gazed moved from Lucky
to the pot and back again.  Lucky realized what was transpiring too
late.  He lunged for the pot, but Oddball had already snatched it

   "Ahem."  Jack cleared his throat.  "If I may interrupt your little
drama here."  He hit a button on the intercom; Jes responded.  "Could
you have another pot sent in here?  Thank you."

   He fingered another key and I-95 lit up in green all the way from
Baltimore to old Miami.  "There will be a team taking the interstate.
However, it won't be you.  If someone wanted Wildcat Auto Work to
grind to a halt for a few days, they've pretty much got it.  But if
for some reason, someone wants Victor Cose dead, well, I'm damn sure
that they're *not* going to get that.

   "Victor's love of Key West is a known fact, so they'll be expecting
this.  They'll be patrolling the interstates.  For that reason, a
decoy group will travel that road and only a few key people in this
company will know about it.  We're planning on smoking them out."

   Jack opened his briefcase and pulled out four datacubes and passed
them around.  "All the information you'll need is there.  Detailed
maps.  Where to get supplies and to patch-up and refuel your cars.
Every obscure fact we could dig up about the territory you're driving
through is there.  Any questions."

   Turbo raised a hand; actually, it was more of a two-fingered
salute.  "Just one question.  You said that there were a couple of
reasons Cose couldn't fly, the main one being his ears. What's the
other one?"

   Jack hit another key and a weather channel appeared on the screen
with a display of the U.S. covered by several patches of white,
swirling clouds.  A darker system in the lower right corner of the
screen caught our attention.

   "Thanks for reminding me," Jack said.  "Tropical Storm Diane is
aiming for the Florida coastline.  She may be upgraded to hurricane
by landfall."

   Ask a silly question . . .

                                * * *

   By dawn, everything was in place.  Victor Cose was placed inside an
unmarked, ambunaught, which had been refitted with a Vulcan in the
turret and a set of radial tires and an active suspension system.  Our
vehicles were fully loaded and ready for the trip.

   Uncle Jack took me aside.  "Sean, I'm glad you came.  Vic always
thought highly about you and he'd be proud to know that you're on the

   I smiled.  "After all the free parts and experimental equipment I
get to 'evaluate', it's the least I can do."

   Turbo honked his horn.

   We shook hands.  I donned my helmet and jumped behind the wheel.
Jack looked over our cars, eyeing the Wolf decals in particular.  "One
minute, guys.  I have to ask.  What's with the Wolves?  I thought you
went by 'Driving Tigers'?"

   "Away from home, we're the Road Wolves.  We don't like letting the
boys from Bensonhurst know that several team members are out of town.
They look for any opportunity."

   Lucky stuck his head out.  "So we use the name of a former gang
that decided to merge with the Driving Tigers.  It was a mutual
agreement, though superior fire power played a distinct role."

   As Uncle Jack laughed, Turbo honked his horn again, and his voice
came over the radio.  "Let's do it."

   Slowly, the garage fell back and Baltimore unfolded before us.
With a few deep breaths and a few deep prayers, we were on our way.
Turbo summed up the way we were all feeling at the moment.

   "Everything's A-OK now, guys.  Just remember, we can only *go
south* from here."

                            End of Part I


        Well I hope you have enjoyed Part I, Part II will probably
come out in the next CWML, but until then you will have to wait, don't
worry I haven't seen Part II yet either.  Any comments will be warmly
accepted, and I'd be curious to see what everyone thinks.