|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 6, 2006 1:10:26 GMT -5
Padre sidestepped a somewhat lopsided punch from Handy, taking the opportunity to shoot Alex a feigned scowl. "None a' yer business, copper." He slurred, shoving Handy away lightly before the shorter man could take another swing. "Drift, willya?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 6, 2006 1:32:45 GMT -5
Sid lumbered forward with a scowl, his hand hovering at the ready over his gun holster. "Break it up an' go home, boys. You two are headed for a night in the drunk tank if you don't knock it off."
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 6, 2006 1:53:20 GMT -5
Padre growled, gave Handy another shove for good measure, and then rounded on Sid. "Heya copper, this's jus' a private dis - disa . . . argument between me an' my buddy here. I said drift, an' I meant drift!"
Then, just for good measure, he threw a lopsided punch in the direction of Sid's uniformed midsection.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 6, 2006 2:30:09 GMT -5
Sid, experienced enforcer that he was, deftly sidestepped the punch and caught Padre by the wrist. With a neat maneuver, he planted himself behind the undercover priest, and managed to slip a handcuff onto that wrist--but Padre's other hand was still free, and Sid didn't hurry too much to keep him from pretending to fight back with it. Alex hurried forward to help wrestle with the ersatz drunk.
For his part, Handy happily waded in to confuse the situation further, lobbing a few sloppy fake punches at Padre's midsection.
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 6, 2006 22:20:17 GMT -5
"Hey!" Padre scowled and yanked his free wrist out of Sid's reach. "What is this, huh? Police brutality? Slap the cuffs on him, whydoncha? He started it!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 6, 2006 23:10:28 GMT -5
As the scuffle continued, the second borrowed police car pulled up. Two more resistance members in uniform leaped out to join the fray.
Meanwhile, the scene was being watched. George Stubbs peered around the corner of an alley--the same one where Daws and Vance had considered hiding. Behind him was a well-drilled team of thieves, wearing black clothing and masks.
"Bloody idiots," the Ferret grumbled. "Still... might be a nice bit o' distraction, maybe. Night watchman over there at the gallery could be busy watchin' this, and if we take 'im now..."
He turned to one of the mutants behind him, a flier. "Peregrine, you 'ave a look from above. See if anyone's around t' the back of the gallery."
With a nod, Peregrine shot up into the air. Just above the buildings he hovered, almost invisible against the night sky as he scanned the scene below--and he gave a start at the sight of three figures on a nearby rooftop, also watching the struggle on the street.
That one in the trenchcoat...
At that moment, on the rooftop, Miriam happened to look away from the staged fight below--and her eye was caught by a flicker of deeper darkness moving against the sky. She gasped as she made out the shape of the masked, flying figure, and seized Major Vance's arm. "Vance!"
Vance turned, looked, and swore. As the black-clad spy whirled to escape--to warn his comrades--the Major hurled a kinetic grenade. In a burst of flame it connected with the flier, who went down.
"Fun and games are over," Vance snarled at Daws and Miriam, seizing them both by the arms. "Come on!"
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 6, 2006 23:23:57 GMT -5
Daws cursed under her breath as Vance half-hauled her and Miriam towards the edge of the rooftop. "Vance -- we gotta let the others know we've been spotted! Where's that radio of yours?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 6, 2006 23:42:43 GMT -5
"Not carrying one," Vance growled, pausing and letting go of Daws' arm. "I've got a better signal."
He quickly pitched another boomer skyward, and its detonation lit the night like a flare. In the street below, the brilliant flash caused the playactors to freeze.
"There's trouble!" Handy gasped.
In the alley, the Ferret watched with confusion and alarm; things were clearly going wrong, but he wasn't quite sure how or why. He had seen the first explosive energy burst that sent Peregrine plummeting to his death, and now the warning flare.
"It's an ambush!" he blurted abruptly, drawing a gun from beneath his jacket. "Come on!"
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 6, 2006 23:55:59 GMT -5
Daws gave a frustrated growl and pulled out her gun. "Knew, knew, knew this wasn't gonna be that easy . . ."
***
The moment Handy had confirmed that the flare was a warning signal, Father Rick snapped into commanding mode and called out to the resistance members lining the street.
"Get out! Get out of here -- NOW!" He bellowed.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 7, 2006 0:17:27 GMT -5
Still lurking at the mouth of the alley, the Ferret watched the sudden scattering and retreat of the drunks, the police, and the bystanders in the street.
"They're in on it... all of 'em." He glanced over his shoulder, giving his comrades a slight gesture. "After 'em, lads."
The black-clad mutants surged forward in pursuit.
Vance herded Daws and Miriam down the fire escape, then took the lead as they set off toward the rendezvous point a block away... and nearly collided with Handy, who was scrambling down the alley toward him in an instinct to find and help his leader. The smaller man may or may not have been aware of the black shape chasing him--which Vance dispatched with a well-aimed boomer that whizzed over Handy's shoulder before hitting its mark.
"Get the women out of here--I'll cover the others!" Vance ordered, and bounded out into the street.
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 7, 2006 0:34:53 GMT -5
"'Get the women out of here', he says." Daws grumbled. She almost turned to dash after the retreating figure of Vance -- but then she shook her head, hissed a particularly unpleasant Hindi curse under her breath, and gestured for Miriam and Handy to follow her as they dashed for the meeting place.
I hope you know what you're doin', Major -- and I hope you don't get yourself spotted or killed . . .
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 8, 2006 22:57:56 GMT -5
As Vance broke into the street, he was confronted with the sight of the resistance members in full flight, followed by a gang of Tiernan's minions in black. A couple of the assailants had been picked off on the run by the resistance, but at the rate they were going, they certainly wouldn't lose their pursuers before they reached the rendezvous point--and the rest of their comrades.
His exertions of his power had taxed him already, but the Major gathered himself, and hurled a fairly powerful kinetic grenade at Tiernan's thieves.
It cost him his remaining strength, and Vance reeled and dropped to his knees, failing to get a telekinetic grip on the boomer. Left on its own course, it arced slightly and plowed into the street in front of the thieves, detonating in a burst of force and brief flame. They were thrown back by it--but not seriously hurt.
But it had bought the other resistance members time enough to vanish.
Vance struggled to his feet, stumbled, and fell again. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the black figures of Tiernan's lackeys silhouetted against the flames.
He reached for the pistol in his shoulder holster...
And a bubble of concussive force, thrown by one of the thieves, struck him from behind.
He blacked out before he had even hit the pavement.
Flanked by his confederates, the Ferret cautiously approached the fallen figure on the street. At a nod from him, one of the others turned their prisoner over--and he swore as he recognized the scarred face of the Grenadier.
A siren wailed in the distance. There was no time for surprise at encountering a man believed dead. The Ferret swiftly ordered his fellows to collect the Major, and the group melted into the night.
Nocturne would be furious when he learned that they had failed to collect his coveted jewels--but the sight of their captive would certainly appease him.
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 9, 2006 2:13:52 GMT -5
Daws, Handy and Miriam dashed down the alley, hung a desperate right turn -- and found themselves facing a wiry, black-clad figure with balls of blue flame dancing in his palms.
Daws cursed roundly and grabbed for Miriam and Handy, flinging them around to run the other way. "Wrong turn!" She hissed, "Move!"
As the other two took her advice, the flamethrower bolted in pursuit -- flinging those balls of flame at the backs of the fleeing trio. One missed Handy's left shoulder by a hand's breadth; the other caught the bottom hem of Daw's trenchcoat, singing an irregular hole in the cloth but (blessedly) not catching full fire.
Daws growled and half-turned, firing her revolver at the pursuer. She'd only meant to clip his shoulder and stop him following them; but he dodged sideways just as she fired and the shot caught him full in the chest.
Daws felt a solid knot of sick dread in her stomach as Tiernan's man dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap. Ahead of her, she heard Miriam make a shocked noise, and the other woman stumbled before Handy caught her wrist to steady her.
No time now, Ace. No time. Just run. Run . . . She forced herself to turn away from the sight behind her, and to concentrate on reaching the rendezvous.
She heard the hollow, echoing sound of a boomer going off -- Vance -- and a moment later a ragged group of resistance members rounded the corner. She half-expected that Vance would follow on their heels; but she didn't have time to worry about that yet -- for now, she had to make sure the resistance made it to the rendezvous . . .
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 9, 2006 22:27:06 GMT -5
Dazed and breathless, the three fighters stumbled into the abandoned gas station that served as the rendezvous point. The other groups were already there, and upon seeing Miriam leaning on Handy's shoulder, Alex rushed forward. Miriam all but fell into his arms, burying her face against his chest, and simply let him hold her.
Once relieved of custody of the pathologist, Handy turned and glanced over the crowd of stunned fighters, taking a head count. The civilians and Vance's own team, it appeared, were all accounted for... but Handy's two hearts sank in horrified dismay when he realized that Jerod Vance himself was not among them.
Catching his breath, he turned to the rather sick-looking Daws, who had apparently just been approached by Padre.
"Jerod's missing!"
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 9, 2006 22:36:11 GMT -5
Daws gaped at Handy, thoughts of the man she'd killed suddenly driven from the forefront of her mind. "What?"
She scanned the crowd of resistance members -- maybe Vance had just hung back to round up stragglers . . .
"No." She hadn't meant to say the word aloud -- but once she had, she turned on her heel and headed back the way she'd arrived.
Padre scowled. "Where d'you think you're going?"
"After Vance." Daws replied without turning or slowing, "He's gotta be hurt or holed up or something, or he'd be here by now. I gotta find him."
Father Rick took two long strides and caught up with Daws, catching her wrist in her hand. The detective froze and turned her head slowly to face the priest, a dangerous light in her eyes.
"Leggo my arm, Padre." She said in a quiet, icy voice. "Now."
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 9, 2006 22:56:23 GMT -5
Sid had been unobtrusively checking on Alex and Miriam, but he turned toward Daws, Handy, and Padre just in time to hear the exchange. He stepped forward quickly and put his hand on Daws' shoulder.
"No, Daws--don't lose your head on us. We gotta think." He frowned anxiously, then looked over his shoulder toward a group of Vance's men. "We dunno if we got an all-clear out there--but the Major's missin'. Some of you crackerjacks better look for him."
There was an immediate stir among the cluster of ex-soldiers and ex-cons, and it took only a moment for four volunteers to sort themselves from the others and head out into the night. Sid watched them go, then turned back to Daws, squeezing her shoulder with the hand that still rested there.
"If somebody's still out there, Daws, we can't have you recognized. Just sit tight."
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 9, 2006 23:00:19 GMT -5
A brief flash of anger crossed Daw's face -- but then she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded dully.
"You're right, Sid. Of course you're right. I'm sorry. I just . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she gave a helpless shrug as she opened her eyes.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 9, 2006 23:21:31 GMT -5
"Yeah. I know." Sid squeezed Daws' arm again, then let go, attempting an encouraging smile. "We'll find him, Daws. You know that jerk--he'll prob'ly come waltzing in here in a little while, askin' us what we're all sittin' around for."
|
|
|
|
Post by skybright on Dec 9, 2006 23:33:35 GMT -5
The words sounded hollow to Daws, but she was grateful for the effort, at least. "Sure." She managed a very faint smile -- one which almost immediately vanished again as she caught sight of Miriam, who still had her face buried in Alex's shoulder.
Daws groaned slightly and she covered her eyes with one hand. "Oh, jeeze, Sid. I . . . Miriam. The Doc, she must've seen what I . . ." She shuddered and fell silent.
|
|
|
|
Post by Jordanna on Dec 9, 2006 23:49:21 GMT -5
Miriam was close enough to hear Daws' remark, and raised her head slowly, taking a deep breath. With Alex hanging close at her side, she stepped closer and put her hand on the detective's shoulder.
"It's alright, Daws," she said quietly, and touched the holstered gun on her own hip. "If you hadn't killed him... I would have. We couldn't let anyone go who could have identified you."
|
|
