FIRE & FORGET REVIEW by Richard Karsmakers
Rrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrr.
Irritated, Cronos Warchild grabs the phone. "Yeah?"
"You Cronos Warchild?"
"What's it to you? Know what time o'day it is?!"
"We've got an assignment for you, Warchild. Get to H.Q. on the
devil!"
SLAM!
Why did everyone always call him when he was just having one of
those fantastic dreams where he was single-handedly slaughtering
and butchering the entire enemy forces of Spectra?! People never
gave him any privacy, and he hated them for that. They were lucky
they were the ones paying him, otherwise he would test one of his
recently acquired killing gadgets on them. And that wouldn't be a
pretty sight. Though he kinda liked the sound of blood dripping
on the floor.
Rrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrr.
"Yeah!? - Warchild speaking, dumbhead! You'd better have a damn
good excuse to bother me again at this Godforsaken hour!"
"Oh. I am so awfully sorry, sir, but I am afraid I dialled
the wrong number."
Warchild's face went red, purple and then green. A deep groaning
sound emerged from his throat as he took a small device, held it
to the telephone and pushed a button.
"AAaarghh..!^$£....mmmbblll*("£$.....aaaaaaarrgghh!!!" it went
on the other side of the phone and the line went dead. Warchild
looked at the device and cursed. Wrong voltage (too low). The guy
was still alive.
His steps sounded heavy and damp as he walked through the early
morning's mist. A black cat crosses his path. Lucky for the cat,
it was fast enough so Warchild could't eat it for breakfast. A
second sequence of curses was yelled as the cat escaped from him
into a small hole.
"GOVERNMENT BUILDING" it read in dimly lit lights ahead of him
as he halted. He knocked his gauntlet heavily on the door; it
made an awful noise and someone had better open the door soon or
the whole neighbourhood would be widely awake. But nobody did.
In a house opposite the government building, something was
lighted and a window was opened. A man's face appeared in it:
"Hey sucker! You know what time it is?! If you don't quit that
noise, I will..."
The man's eyes went blank as Warchild turned. With a deep sigh,
he slided to the floor. "Jack? What's happened? Jack!?" a
female's voice started crying as a small red spot became visible,
bigger amd bigger, just between the man's eyes.
"Yes?" A butler dressed in tails opened the door. Warchild
turned and walked inside, muttering: "It was about time that
SOMEONE opened that bleedin' door!"
"Good morning, Cronos," the prime minister greeted, ignoring
Warchild's indignant look, "we need you again. Ever heard of
'Thunder Master'?"
"No. Something you can eat?"
"No, sucke....uuuuh..... Cronos; it's a new and ultimate weapon
we've designed. You need to drive it. To hell and back. Right
into enemy territory and back to base, some way to restore the
unity in the world. The 'Thunder Master' is a car. But not just a
car. This one's about indestructible, and armed with tetranuclear
propulsion missiles guided by undecodable oral frequency and
a magnetic sustenation MV module with 117 GigaWatts per second
firepower. It's controlled by a 128 bits Inmotofel T8006809080986
transprocessor at 4,77 GHz. All we need is a daring driver. You."
The man sighed as he relaxed again, feeling pretty pleased with
himself. Warchild sat down, unaffected by what was said.
"What's the pay?"
"Let's say fifty grand."
"What? Lires, Pounds, Yens, Dollars, Kruger Rands? Swiss
Francs? Maybe even Dutch guilders?"
Every time Lord Blessington summoned this man and each time he
had to make a deal with him, tiny droplets of perspiration came
onto his forhead. He took his handkerchief and removed them.
Then, carefully, he folded the piece of textile and re-inserted
it in his pocket.
"Dollars. On a swiss account, of course, if you want to."
Cronos looked thoughtfully at his gauntlet, maybe wondering what
the impact would be on the bold head of the prime minister.
"No deal. Not enough." Warchild made a gesture as if he was
going to leave the room - after having terminated this piteous
politician, of course. Blessington's handkerchief was drawn from
his pocket again.
"Right, right. OK. But I'll have to talk to my superiors if the
amount will have to...." - "Shut up, fool. You have no superiors.
Or would it be King Charles perhaps?!" His trigger finger itched;
it was quite some time ago that he had killed any politicians,
and he had kinda liked the hang of it. "Besides," he added, "I
don't want none of your stinkin' money, midget!"
Lord Blessington glanced in the mirror. Was he THAT small? No-
one had called him 'midget' before. Well.... except maybe for His
Majesty.
"Then wat DO you want?", he ventured. He was beginning to look
and to act very nervous now. His hanky wasn't put back in his
pockets even for a fraction of a second, either.
Warchild stood up and leaned over the heavy wooden table, making
the prime minister shrink back in his chair. Warchild seemed to
stretch his hands out to the throat of Lord Blessington, who
closed his eyes and imagined he saw a man clad in black with a
scythe in his hand, signing him to come near.
Warchild took the prime-minister's handkerchief and wrung it
out.
"You shouldn't perspire that much, Mr. Blessington. It's bad for
your health."
Lord Blessington thought he saw angels already. When he opened
his eyes, however, all he could see was the massive figure of
Warchild, holding a dry hanky in his stretched hand. Suddenly,
he noticed a small pool of liquid on his desk.
"I'll take the assignment," Warchild said, "just joking!"
With that, he padded Blessington on his shoulder - quite
thoroughly, one might add.
Moral of this story: Never wake someone up too early!!
*****
In the French company Titus' most recent game, "Fire & Forget",
you have to drive the aforementioned "Thunder Master" car through
enemy territory to your own base. The motto is indeed "Fire &
Forget", for you have to molest your trigger finger constantly
and all else that matters is keeping your car on the road.
First thing that strikes you when playing "Fire & Forget" is the
striking resemblance with the "Crazy Cars" concept (an earlier
Titus game). You drive the "Thunder Master" on a three
dimensional scrolling road, where you have to blast oncoming
tanks and helicopters to bits while also making sure that all
rocks, mines and pieces of barbed wire get shot out of your way.
Vehicle control is much better than in "Crazy Cars", and I
specially like it when you skid in the bends in the road.
Graphics are better and more detailed than in "Crazy Cars", too.
The animation is not so 'shocky' either. Screen swaps are done in
a very creative way, and I like the smooth way in which you can
select difficulty level and whether you play with one or two
players.
Many (maybe all?) sound effects as well as the intro music are
digital - and you know what I think of that. In spite of the fact
that the quality is good and that it's used quite well, too, I
still think it's a lack of programmer's capacities when one has
to use digital sounds and music instead of regular music.
Anyway, "Fire & Forget" almost makes us forget there ever was a
project called "Crazy Cars". Graphics are very good, and gameplay
is nice, too. The only thing I don't like is that fuel tends to
run out very fast - and then you die... The game saves a hiscore
list - an extremely simple feature that many good games (I would
like to mention "Bubble Bobble") don't have. Nice. It's OK.
Game Rating:
Name: Fire & Forget
Company: Titus
Graphics: 8.5
Sound: 7.5
Playability: 7.5
Hookability: 7.5
Value for Money: 7
Overall rating: 7.5
Price: 89.50 Dutch guilders
Remark: Better than "Crazy Cars"
Many thanks go to Mr. Harry van Horen of Homesoft, Haarlem,
Holland, for sending the review copy.
For information regarding this game, please contact:
Titus
28 ter, Avenue de Versailles
93220 GAGNY
FRANCE
English people can contact:
Titus
Unit 4 Stannets
Laindon North Trade Centre
Basildon Essex SS15 6DJ
England
�
Disclaimer
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared
in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s)
was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes,
bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and
tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact
and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any
kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are
not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll
texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.