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The valve clicks open4 and the tell-tale aroma of gasolene rises from the tank to greet your nostrils. A fuel gauge on the inside edge of the valve shows you that the tank contains 125 gallons of premium unleaded gasolene, more than sufficient for your needs. When the others come to inspect your handiwork they congratulate you unstintingly.
After filling the tank of your roadster, Sergeant Haskell and his men set about destroying the remainder of the fuel to prevent it from falling into the hands of Mad Dog Michigan’s clansmen. Then, with a view of the station ablaze in your driving mirror, you set off west along Interstate 10 to keep your rendezvous with the convoy.
