The big, luxurious touring motorcycle was sitting unattended at the gas station. The engine was running, as if the driver had just stepped away for a minute. It was every cycle thief’s wet dream.

Jason grinned as he settled onto the bike. This was like taking candy from a baby. He revved the throttle and pulled out onto the street.

He’d gone about a mile when manacles clamped in place around his legs. “Gotcha!” a triumphant female voice said out of the radio speakers. “Aegis street crime squad! I’m taking you in!!” The motorcycle stopped responding, started driving itself.

But Jason just chuckled. His hands were still free. He pulled out the dashboard cigarette lighter (who puts those on motorcycles?) and tossed it aside, then plugged something else into the socket. The dash lights started flickering and the motorcycle faltered. “Hey!” the voice squeaked indignantly. “What did you do?”

Jason grinned. “Gotcha back.” The manacles slid away, and he took control again. “You’re all mine now, pretty lady.”