Participants:
| Scene Title | A Knife for Every Back, Part II |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The survivor of Bill Dean's Humanis First cell meets his fate at the hands of a rowdy gang of hooligans — also Part I is lost forever but it involved Raith hijacking a helicopter and blowing up another helicopter with that helicopter and let me tell you it was great. This is good too. |
| Date | February 23, 2011 |
City lights blur in a luminous streak across the side view windows of a sleek black Audi that speeds along a winding coastal road.
When the car smashes thorugh a locked chain link fenge, the gates explode to either side and the plastic covering of one headlight shatters. Black peels across the asphalt as the tires screech, swerving into oncoming traffic, crossing over a median with a scrape of concrete on the undercarraige and a shower of sparks.
«Stop complaining and drive, I'm trying!»
The sweep of a searchlight comes from beyond the chain link fence, where Floyd Bennet Field is illuminated by flashing blue lights, the pop of automatic gunfire and the roar of helicopters overhead. One such helicopter shines its spotlight down on the top of the sportscar, reflecting brightly off of the once pristine paint job. Horns blare and headlights swim by as the car weaves from lane to lane, and the helicopter pulls away from the other pair at the airfield and turns to follow the escaping vehicle. Police cruisers and a few black SUVs begin turning around in the airport as well, their headlights too distant.
«Okay — Okay, hang on. Alright — got it. Jammed their radios.»
Cutting into the left-most lane, the sleek car zips past slower traffic that is already pulling to the side of the road on seeing the helicopter flying low nearby. Through the tinted driver's side window, the wild-haired figure of Lexington Lane is the unscrupulous wheelman peeling out across the shore parkway. Pushing the accelerator to 70, her grip on the steering wheel has become a white-knuckled one as other cars on the busy freeway seem parked at times compared to the speed she's driving at.
«Alright, someone who isn't driving— eyes down on the GPS.»
John Logan's voice emanating from the car radio comes a moment before the GPS navigator lights up in the center console, showing a map of Brooklyn, Manhattan and surrounding neighborhoods. A red indicator lights up showing the current location of the car, followed by a blue line zipping out to track around the shore parkway and up to the Brooklyn-Battery tunnel that crosses under the Hudson River, then into the heart of downtown Manhattan and out thorugh the Holland Tunnel into Jersey City, finally ending at an airport.
«I'm going to make sure all the lights go green for you. Unfortunatly I can't stop the — »
Gunfire peppers the roof of the car, fully-automatic gunfire from an assault rifle fired from the pursuing helicopter. The car's antenna is blown out in the ensuing peppering of bullets, the back window exploding inward and showering the young woman who's laid down in the back seat, hands over her head, with glass. Lucille Ryans has a front-row seat to the sight of the military helicopter swooping in closer, a figure in black fatigues leaning out in a harnass with an M-16 braced to his chest.
Swerving to avoid another barrage of gunfire, Lexington jerks the car over the median again and into oncoming traffic, vehicles swerving out of the way, horns blaring and tires shrieking as the helicopter is forced to pull up to avoid power lines that cross the road. In the rear view mirror, Lexington can see a massive ball of fire rising up from the Floyd Bennet airfield, along with a choking cloud of smoke as black as the night.
As she jerks the car back into the proper lane and ahead of the congestion, Lexington can see the Statue of Liberty out of the driver's side window, a stark green monolith illuminated against he night. Up ahead, the northern side of Brooklyn rapidly approaches. Maybe they can lose the helicopter when they enter the tunnel?
In the meantime, it's a job for the man sitting shotgun to Lexington.
Seamus.
As the tail end of the car wobbles, just barely avoiding fishtailing at the breakneck speeds they're going, thanks to the skilled driver… The sunroof opens up and a burly man fits himself through. The wind whips his auburn hair around his eyes as he turns about, and brings an assault rifle to bear on the helicopter. COVERING FIRE HAAAAHHHHH!
The muzzle flash lights up his madly grinning face, and the woosh of the wind with the clamor of the gunfire nearly drowns out his bellow. "'OLD 'ER STEADY, LEXI!"
It's only when the assault rifle exhausts its magazine that he ducks quickly back inside the car, tossing the magazine onto the floor and pulling another out of the hastily-made pile in the glove box. "FUCKING BLOODY HELL, can they stop shooting? Don't they know how much this car costs??" Seamus picks up an Uzi from by his feet and slams the magazine home, checking it over before turning around, head low to peer out the back window. That Uzi gets tossed back to Lucille. "Here y'go, lass. Have y'rself some fun!" he says, eyes alight with vigor as he goes back to reloading his own weapon. "How's she holdin' up, Lex?"
"Hold yerself steady, ya sheep fuckin' arse!" Lexi shouts back at him from behind the wheel, just as she swerves sharply around a line of cars slowing down due to all the ruckus. "She'll keep it together," she says of the car, as if faith would be able to keep those bullets from doing any serious damage. Zipping in and out of traffic, she does anything but keep the car steady, after all, it's better to be a moving target.
"Gladly," comes the reply from Lucille Ryans, peeking up from the glass pelting her in the head as the Uzi is passed to her. With a wicked grin and glint to her eyes. She leans over the seat and aims up at the helicopter. "Hey Seamus!" she yells over the roar of the wind from how fast they are going. "First one to shoot it down.. gets a massage." She chuckles as she slides back and forth on the backseat as Lexi drives and then she's closing one eye and firing quickly at the helicopter. When she runs out of ammo, she ducks back within the car her dark hair in her face as she snatches another magazine and loads the Uzi again.
"My dad.. is going to kill me."
Careening down an offramp, an NYPD cruiser comes screeching across multiple lanes of traffic, blue lights on and engine roaring as it cuts in behind Lexington's car. The helicopter backs off some, moving away from the road and towards the shore, smoke issuing from one of the bulletholes that tore through its side. Speed diminished some, the helicopter continues its parallel movement, coming up alongside the car while flying over the water. Its shadow is dark on the Hudson's surface, a black smear against the reflected city lights.
The gunman in the side window struggles to train a proper shot, one that doesn't directly endanger the other motorists around. Hopefully whatever it is that Logan is doing— however it is he's doing it— it keeps the police from being able to stay a step ahead of the car. The last thing they need is a barricade.
Cutting into the right lanes of traffic and using other motorists as shields, Lexington's keen driving blocks the helicopter, but the police cruiser catching up on their rear presents a more present danger of a presumably trained driver and at these speeds, one proper smack at the rear of the Audi could sent it into a spin and end this chase before it even gets anywhere.
The spedometer reads 85 the next time Lexington looks down at it, and up ahead the Shore Parkway is set to pass under the dilapidated shadow of the demolished Verazanno Narrows bridge. At night, the bridge's decimated middle deck sagging into the water looks like the long neck of some impossibly large creature drinking from the river, high tension wires and support struts its spine.
Seeing the bridge coming, the helicopter is forced to take higher to the air for the time being, leaving the police cruiser the foremost problem as it draws even closer to the back of the Audi.
Seamus glances back at Lucille's bet, eyes wide as he looks to Lexi with a grin. "We /are/ keeping her, right?" Glancing back, he calls out, "You're on!" Slamming his magazine in place with a flourish, Seamus pauses as the police sirens come up behind them. He shoots a look outside and lets out a not-so-subtle curse. "Fuckin' toad-stuffed ass-blisters!"
The original Irishman looks back to his sister with a sour smirk, body jerking to the side as she swerves. "Some wheelman y' are, carrottop. Do I have to do all the work?" Reaching into the glovebox again, Seamus pulls out a /hefty/ handgun of the .44 caliber. Arms steadied on the edge of the open window, he ducks his head…and fires at the tires of the oncoming cop car.
"Oh for the love've St. Patrick. Hold on," Lexi warns before she pushes the car faster, letting the other two keep an eye on the chopper while she works on keeping ahead of the cops. It's fancy driving time, much to the likely chagrin of the other drivers on the road who she uses as a little buffer between her and the cops. At least until they all get out of the way, then it's just a matter of keeping her speed faster than theirs. But the idea of deviating off course to lose them, that she's not trying just yet. "We can only keep her if ya don't let them catch us. 'r shoot the hell out've her!" Which yes, is all his responsibility.
"Fuck!" Lucille shouts and then she's ducking back in the car with her back turned and head down to avoid getting.. ya know, shot in the head? Breathing heavy, the woman cracks her neck and then returns to firing outside the car. This time at the police cruiser following them.
"If they catch us.. well I might fucking disappear, guys." She yells behind as the wind whips her hair around in her face, she should tie it into a ponytail. Retreating in the car to do just that.
The noise of the .45 firing reverberates through the car loudly, causing Lexington and Lucille's ears to ring painfully. The first shot blows out the cruiser's right front headlight, due to the vehicle weaving around slower traffic throwing off Seamus' shot. The next one comes in too far, punching a divot in the asphalt. The third shot blasts the tire, causing the cruiser to swerve and the driver to overcompensate, jerking the wheel too hard and causing the cop car to smash into the rear of a van adjacent to it.
That green van spins when it's struck, colliding with the concrete divider that now blocks off the oncoming lane. Another car plows into the side of the van, and the police cruiser goes off the right side of the road, smashing through the chain-link fence and then rolling down into a culvert, one long black strip of shredded tire whirling end over end in the air as the cruiser olls.
Crisis averted, the Audi zips under the shadow of the Narrows, where blue plastic tarps, cardboard boxes and blankets make up a makeshift shanty town of homeless and destitute, dozens of squatters watching the sports car speed by with a roaring engine. Emerging on the other side of the narrows, the sudden flare of light that comes is the searchlight of the helicopter, having cut ahead of the car and over the bridge.
The chopper drops down over the road, door gunner opening fire. Muzzle flare and the sound of perforated glass accompany bullets blasting through the windshield, spiderwebbing the collision resistant glass. Tiny shards now glitter in Lexington and Seamus' hair. Lucille could hear one of the machine gun rounds buzz by her ear, disturbing her hair before it punched a hole in the back seat beside her head.
The Audi blows past the hovering chopper, and the roar of its rotors indicates that it hasn't given up the chase yet. The aerial vehicle lifts up, turns to follow the car and continues behind them. Up ahead, the city lights of Manhattan shine, and Shore Parkway takes a cuve inward towards Red Hook. An offramp up ahead looks to offer an alternative route according to the GPS, one that runs through a residential district.
"FUCK YEAH!" Seamus yells when his shot hits home, and he raises his head to watch the police car swerve… He winces with each collision, whistling lowly as it tumbles out of sight. "That's two collisions, a blocked roadway, and a rollover! That's 40 points!" Pulling his head back, he grins over at his sister. "Y—"
He jerks in surprise, arm covering his eyes at the blinding light coming through the windshield. Peering ahead, he barely has time to yell, "GET DOWN!" before the bullets fly and he ducks his head, arm still up around his face.
When the rain of bullets dies down for a moment, up comes Seamus with murder in his eyes and an assault rifle against his shoulder, pointed through that broken windshield. That's sure to at least clear the road ahead of them.
It may be worrisome that when that helicopter comes into view, Lexington lets out a laugh of sorts and chooses to play chicken with it, gunning it and heading right toward it. She does duck some when the bullets fly their way, but that laugh echoes in a more triumphant tone as she zips past it.
And then, she spots that road curving ahead of them and makes the command decision to take the off ramp, heading for the straighter route through the residential area. While this might for slower for people who, ya know, slow down, Lexi keeps the speed the same as she darts through the streets.
"Holy fuck!" Lucille screams as the bullet comes whizzing pass her ear, her ear folks. The former model ducks down and looks over at Seamus and Lexi with wide eyes.. "I just.. what the fuck.. Seamus! They tried to shoot me in the head!" Shouted the same way a younger sister goes to get her daddy or big brother and since Russo isn't around..
Leaning her head out of the window once more, she fires a few more shots before screaming, "If you had shot me in the face, you fucker!" Growling, she slides down in the backseat again and glares at Seamus, "I need something with more power honey. More power."
Uh oh.
Veering off from the suggested route on the GPS to an alternative route brings the Audi screeching around a curving offramp that takes the trio down into a two-lane residential road that winds parallel to the highway. Trees on the left cause the highway to disappear, the stickbare trees of Shore Road Park dense enough together to block out view entirely.
With the curfew hour approaching, this narrow street is sparsely populated, most of the cars on it are parked on the roadside or tucked away in driveways. The speedometer reading 90 when Lexi glances down to it makes sense of why everything out the side windows is a blur. The road isn't as straight as Lexington had hoped though, being a serpentine thing that winds around tall residential tenement buildings.
The leafless trees sway and become spindly silhouettes when the helicopter's searchlight passes through them, and the matte black vehicle — belching smoke — comes up over the treeline. Gunfire explodes from the door gunner again, bullets peppering the street and ricocheting against the undercarraige.
95 it says now, on a glance down to the dashboard and back up again, and some of the sharp curves and turns push Seamus and Lucille back and forth inside of the car from the centrifugal force.
When the trees thin on the left side for a ball field between the residential road and the highway, the trio in the Audi are treated to the sight of a black armored personnel carrier heading down the highway they almost were on, with the white logo FRONTLINE written across one side. It looks to be headed for the airfield, and thankfully that behemoth isn't their problem.
As the helicopter continues to pursue, it comes to a slow halt in the air again, firing down at the Audi again. This time the bullets demolish the trunk, punching holes through the back of the vehicle, ventillating the exhause and causing the car to run louder than it already is, blowing out a tail light and—
Lucille feels a hot and sharp knife of pain slice through her arm, causing her to reflecively drop her gun down onto the floor of the car as blood sprays down her bicep. FLesh is split open on her upper arm, soaking the back seat and the bullet winds up going through the floorboards. It's a deep, messy flesh wound.
As Lucille realizes she's been shot, Lexington tears out of the residential neighborhood, taking an onramp back onto the freeway to join Interstate 278. It's a straight shot through Red Hook on an eight lane highway from here to the tunnel.
Seamus pulls his rifle back inside the car just in time to grab the OH SHIT handle before the Audi goes briefly airborn, hitting that off-ramp at well over the posted speed limit. Lexi is going to get such a ticket, later. No targets insight, he just holds on for dear life, laughing and whooping up a storm. "Left here! No no, the other left, you missed it! Never mind, that was a dead end. Okay, go straight! What, are you driving with your eyes closed for the fun of it??"
As the helicopter turns the car's trunk into swiss cheese, Seamus shoots a glance back to the back seat, in time to get a warm splash of blood on his cheek. "Fuck! Ohhhh fuck, Lexi! Lucy's ruinin' th' leather! Pressure on th' arm, lass, keep it elevated, how you feelin'?" he yells over the unhealthy roar of the engine, still holding on tight, one hand on the handle above his head, the other on the dashboard.
He's pushed down into the seat as the shoot up the onramp, and then he's pulling his rifle to bear again, rising out of his seat to slip out the passenger side window. "Y'fuckin' assholes! That was her massagin' arm! First the car, and now this?? GO TO HELL!" That banter out of the way, Seamus unloads on the helicopter with a fresh clip, feet hooked under the seat to keep him from tilting out of the car.
"SEAMUS! SHUT UP AND LET ME DRIVE!" If Lexi was white knuckled before, they must be transparent by now with how tight she's holding the wheel. Half out of adrenaline and half to fight off the urge to punch Seamus right in the face mid-high speed chase.
But she gets them back onto the freeway, letting out a heavy breath when FRONTLINE passes on by. Small favors. "Luce, sorry, luv. Tryin' t'avoid what I can!" But she can't avoid everything, is the implication.
"This really isn't my day." Lucille cries out as she's shot and she's ducking down behind the seat, she's never been shot before. Welcome to the real world. Clutching her arm, thoughts racing with what she's supposed to be doing to her arm. With a grimace, she takes her good hand and bends over to use her teeth and rip a large piece of fabric from her shirt, causing for a fair bit of midriff to show.
Working as fast she can in the pain that she's in. She wraps it and ties it tight over her wound and then she's bending down fast to grab a hold of the Uzi and aim with one hand, dizzy with pain. She fires a few bursts of bullets, with a sick look on her face. "Seamus.. give me something with more power." she growls out through gritted teeth and gives the man, the look that you give a woman that is going into labor and glaring at the babydaddy. Do as she says, basically.
Merging onto the Interstate at nearly ninty miles an hour is absolutely terrifying. Last minute travelers looking to get home before curfew now caught in the middle of a high speed pursuit with terrorists. As the Audi comes barreling onto the freeway, swerving past other motorists with honking horns, the highway turns into an overpass, lifting up and over the smaller streets of Red Hook below. Trapped now in these four lanes and elevated in a way that makes going off the edge unappetizing, Lexington has a huge straightaway to work with, allowing her to floor the car to its maximum speed, weaving back and forth between slower vehicles.
116 the speedometer reads, which Lexi has to view twice in a double-take of the veloicty at which she is driving head-long into danger. Other cars might as well be stalled for all that they seem to be immobile obstacles, the tight-handling sports car cutting in at 45-degree angles between the vehicles and changing lanes with need of lightning quick precision. Miraculously, in all of the hellacious tucking and weaving in and out of traffic, Lexington manages not to so much as clip another car traveling on the freeway.
As the Audi blows past a semi truck, the unwelcome flood of light cresting over the sixteen wheeler signals the helicopter's return, windshield now spiderwebbed with bulletholes and smoke still choking black out of the engine from where Seamus had struck it near the beginning of the chase. The helicopter doesn't dare fire down into the highway with so many pedestrians, and with radio contact severed it can't warn police of where to put roadblocks.
Soon the overpass lowers and begins to turn, and slowing down to 80 Lexington merges with three other highways, eighteen lanes across, headed towards a massive brick and mortar building that narrows down to two tunnel entrances that pass beneath the Hudson.
The toll plaza ahead, however, has three police cruisers parked nearby, lights off. They're probably the offices set to watch the toll plaza, also present is the olive-drab frame of a military Jeep, likely belonging to the National Guard.
A sign on the highway up ahead reads:
Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel
Have your Registry ID ready for the toll.
In the lull of action, Seamus pulls himself back into the car long enough to catch his breath, and to hear Lucille's insistent cry. "Bossy lil filly. Fine, but don't hurt your /other/ arm!" Glancing back at Lucille's wounded arm with a frown (with maybe a small glance at that bared midriff), Seamus pulls out the best one-hander he has: That .45 hand cannon. It gets tosses back to her quickly before he's back to business.
As the helicopter comes up, Seamus' grin turns absolutely malicious and he readies his rifle…but then he spies the upcoming bridge and his smile falls. Fuuuuuck, lookit those police cars. Somebody should do something to keep them occupied!
Reaching down into a rucksack between his knees, Seamus pulls out three flashbangs, holding them all in one huge hand. Glancing over at Lexi with a grin, he says with a voice just dripping with excitement, "I wish we could hang back an' watch this. It'll be fuckin' hilarious!" As they come up on the cruisers, Seamus yanks out the pins of the flashbangs all at once, and lobs them out the car window, sending them arching towards the parked cruisers. Just to see what will happen.
Lexi is just that good. Years of experience in driving like a bat out of hell to get them away from some messiness or another, no doubt. And as the helicopter can't fire down into the crowd, she ever so lovingly flips them the bird.
But when she has to slow down some, she frowns at it all, particularly that sign. "Time f'r some not-so-passive resistance, ladies and gentlemen," she says, which seems to encompass Seamus' little bit of fun and her bulldozing her way through that check point when they get to it.
"I won't!" Lucille yells back and then's taking the cannon and grinning down, her fingerless gloves smeared with blood. "Wicked." She breathes before taking careful aim and wincing as she jerks a little along with the car and then she's steadying herself again and firing up and towards the engine of the helicopter. "Come on baby.." she says softly to herself. She has to make this shot..
She would have, too. Were it not for sudden blindness.
When the Audi blows through one of the toll plaza's 'out of service' lanes, the white and black wooden arm crossed down over it explodes into flinders, flying up and smacking the windshield and blowing to either side of the car. The flashbangs go off, a cacophonous eruption of deafening sound anf blinding light that floods the dark with sudden illumination, sending Lucille recoiling from the rear view window as she is assailed by the stark illumination. Everything for her now has afterimages and blind spots, and she dare not fire without being able to see.
Through the toll, the Audi's passengers come into a predicament as they hit the tunnel. the three lanes inside of the tunnel are tight together, leaving little room to move. While the journey is a straight shot towards Battery Park City, they haven't eluded the helicopter yet, because there's only one place they can come out.
The tunnel gives the group time to think, however. Sirens begin to howl behind them, but there's no vehicles hot on their tails yet. Breezing thorugh the tunnel at fifty miles and hour, trapped behind slower-moving vehicles, there will likely be a hail of automatic gunfire waiting for them when they emerge on the other side, and if not that, whoever is going to come up at them from behind.
A plan could increase their odds of reaching their destination in one piece dramatically.
"WOOOO HOO HOO HOO!" Seamus crows, squinting against the brightness of the flash as they careen through the suddenly and very briefly bright tunnel. With their free time, Seamus lays the assault rifle over the center partition, within Lucille's reach as he pulls a disassembled weapon out of his bag. "I've got an idea, Lexi… Keep the car steady. Lucy, you're gonna provide me with cover fire if your arm can handle it, arright?"
Metal clicks into metal, a long tube taking shape, with a green shamrock adorning the side. "I'ma provide us some cover. Ready to get your eyebrows singed off?" Pulling what looks like a stubby rocket out of the bag, he starts to fiddle with it.
"Steady as I can manage it," Lexi says, since she is still weaving through traffic to keep them moving. She glances back at Lucille in the rear view mirror to note, "Your arm's not fallen off yet, is it, luv?" It may be a little tease. Maybe.
There's a glance over at Seamus and Lexi sighs a little dramatically. "They were just grown back in from last time," she laments, only half kidding as he starts putting his toy together.
"No no!" Lucille screams out, "I need these eyebrows," she waves her hands as she reaches for the assault rifle fine and then she's picking it up and holding it. The hand cannon on the seat next to her, so she can't see.. "I can't see yet. Damn flashbangs, but I might be able to help in a few seconds!" Lucille opens and closes her eyes rapidly. Trying to get rid of the effects of the grenades. "Um.. it's hanging."
Almost literally, it hurts a whole lot to move it.. so.. there you go.
The LAW comes together, thick and long and har—well, it's easy to see why a guy would like to hold onto it. With a few clicks, Seamus flashes a grin to Lexi and rises up through the sunroof again, hefting the massive tube of metal over his shoulder. He aims carefully at the approaching light at the end of the tunnel…
FOOM! Fire ignites above the car and Seamus rocks back as the trio stare at the flaming ass-end of a rocket. Seamus drops down into the car quickly, snatching up another rocket as he mutters to himself, "3… 2… 1…"
KA-BOOOOOOM! The shock wave gets funneled down the tunnel, rocking the cars and drivers as the rocket explodes in midair, briefly blocking off the exit with a roiling cloud of anger and fire. It hangs there like the face of destruction, dissipating mere moments before they rocket out through the billowing smoke and into open air again.
Behind the smoke and carnage, the noise of sirens behind them are finally joined by the flash of blue lights reflecting off of the tiled ceiling of the tunnel. A sea of police cars are headed down the tunnel, too many flashing blue lights to count, all reflecting off of the tunnel's glossy walls.
Up ahead, the smoking damage dome by the rocket is more serious than Seamus may have first estimated, though thankfully done on the end of the tunnel where they were no longer below the river. Never the less, ruptured water manes now spray down from the ceiling, and standing out of the sunroof, Seamus is soaked by the ice cold water coming down on him as he blasts through the hail of smoke and flames—
—into a searchlight.
Hovering right at the mouth of the tunnel, partly blinded by the smokescreen, the battered and damaged helicopter looms like some disapproving parent with hand raised and ready to admonish an unruly child. The click and snap of another rocket being loaded into the light anti-tank weapon comes as the Audi speeds beneath the helicopter, and as Seamus turns to face it the noise of gunfire from the back seat fills his ears. Brass shell casings clatter against the back seat windows as they're fired out of the side of the M-16 Lucille has braved against the blown out back window. She couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if she wanted to, injured as she is and still barely able to see, but the suppressing fire does for Seamus exactly what he needs.
As the helicopter starts to turn, Seamus stares it down through the flipped up targeting reticule, squeezing the trigger on the top of the LAW and sending another streaking rocket soaring out, this time backwards as the Audi meets sparse, night-time traffic.
The explosion is unbelievable when the rocket collides with the helicopter, sending a cloud of smoke and flames and fiery debris crashing down onto the street. Rotors smash into asphalt, shear off and go windmilling into the concrete dividers by the tunnel entrance. Vehicles collide with the fiery wreckage, some managing to hit their brakes before they do, impacted from behind by other cars, forming a congested block in the tunnel sealing it off from the police.
Wind in his wet hair, Seamus watches the plume of fire and smoke rising up into the night sky, between the tall, gleaming sky-scrapers of Battery Park City.
Now there's nothing between them, and Walsh.
Victorious, they ride away from the proof of their passage, Seamus with one fist raised and howling in triumph into the night, the LAW still tilted against his shoulder. "Woo-FUCKING HOOOOO!" he crows, leaning back to feel the wind on his face, eyes closing in bliss as he thrills in the adrenaline pumping through him. "Did you see that? Did you fuckin' see that?? The devil is gone and holed hisself away, pissing himself in th' corner, cause ain't nothin' keepin' th' Micks o' New York down! FUCK YEEEEAH!"
Once they hit open road, Lexi floors it again. Seamus and Lucille can deal with the helicopter, she is going to worry about getting them to Walsh as fast as she can push the bullet hole ridden car. Zoom Zoom. When the helicopter explodes, she looks back for just a moment. Just to be sure before she drives on. "Alright, alright, calm down b'fore ya piss yourself from excitement. We're not done yet." Party pooper.
"I call a fucking rematch! I got fucking shot.. in the fucking arm!" Lucille yells as the copter comes down and the whistles. "Nice shooting Musmus." Comes the littlest criminal that could, her eyes alight as she can see again and the pain in her arm starting to numb. Still hurting, but she'll deal later. It's something you just do.. especially as a Ryans.. you just deal.
"Okay, this arm is gonna be fine. I can still fire some shots and hurt things. Oh.. we just killed people." She mumbles to herself and then she's staring at the wreckage of the helicopter. "You picked the wrong job." She mutters before looking out the window for a quick peek and then ducking back in.
Hands shaking, vision starting to come back, Lucille may not be quite as gun ready as she feels she is, the back seat is now sticky with her blood, as it the side of her jacket and clothes beneath, along with the bottom of her jeans from sitting in it. Windshield blown out, back window gone, and bullet holes riddling the car, the Audi is still driving, which is perhaps as remarkable as all three of its passengers still being alive.
The further away they get from the flaming wreckage at the tunnel, the less main arteries Lexington feels the need to travel on. With curfew just an hour away, there's still time to cross the city in the derelict car and get out of New York, but no one here will be going back tonight.
With the Audi clanking and smoking, riddled with bullet-holes and filled with blood, passing through the city unnoticed will be impossible. But there's plenty of vehicles out tonight, plenty of unlit parking lots to take advantage of, plenty of places to secure another vehicle, re-arm, and prepare for the confrontation with Walsh.
They made it this far, there's no turning back now.
Half an Hour Later
Settled on the northern end of Newark Bay, the Jersey City seaplane marina is where the GPS map ends. Visible through the chain-link fence bordering the harbor, the wharves that extend out into the bay cut a jagged line along the coast. A low air-traffic control tower manages air travel to and from the marina. These vessels aren't long-distance fliers from Seamus' experience, so whereever Walsh is planning on heading, he's expecting a water landing and not more than 100 miles from New Jersey.
Sitting in the cab of the Jeep Cherokee that they'd hotwired in a parking lot near the North Cove Marina, Lexington and Seamus Lane can see the flashing lights of an incoming aircraft, making its descent to hit the water. Through Seamus' binoculars, he can make out a lone figure on one of the far piers, suitcases and dufflebags stacked up and waiting to go.
In the back seat, arm bound in a strip of her own shirt and soaked through a dark red, Lucille Ryans has gone into a cold sweat from the shock of being shot, not that adrenaline has worn off. Even though it isn't a serious injury, it's still an agonizingly painful one.
But there's some things that take precedence, and he's standing on the end of a pier just under 1,000 feet away on the other side of that chain-link gate.
How the three handle this will have lasting repercussions.
Seamus rises to his feet when he finally spots that figure, the binoculars strap swinging in the light breeze. A moment of silence, and he slowly grins. "Bingo, girls. We've got our target." Dropping the binoculars, he peers against the wind, letting out a slow breath before glancing down at Lexi and back at Lucille. "This is it. We've been through hell, now it's put up or shut up. Lucy, you arright? You wanna stay back here? Lexi and I can probably handle this."
"I don't suppose ya did somethin' useful. Like brinin' a sniper rifle along. How d'ya want t'handle this one? We can't let him get that plane off the ground." Lexi looks back at Lucille, too, and she frowns a little. Field medicine is only as good as what you've got on hand and what they have on hand is exactly nothing. "And best we get this done fast and get Lucille somewhere I can actually help her."
"Let's try and finish this thing out, okay?" Lucille speaks and then she's hefting the hand cannon in her hand and slinging the rifle over her shoulder. Wincing, she breathes through the pain. Ahh so much blood. "If only I could use my ability for myself.." she mutters. She hasn't learned how to do that.. if ever.
"We can't just rush in, he'll get away. Maybe we should stick to the shadows, bust in ninja like and blow his head off. Because seriously I don't like that one of my favorite shirts is ruined." She growls as she levels the figure in the distance with a sour stare. Her eyes growing cold as the possibility of more blood being directly on her hands draws near.
The red and white seaplane comes in at a low altitude, pontoons hitting the water and exploding a shower of white foam as the friction slows the vessel down. Its dual propeller engines sputter and pop as it comes to a slow halt, then taxies across the surface of the bay to come up towards the pier. Anxious, Walsh keeps looking over his shoulder, and when he turns, Seamus can see that he's on a cell phone, talking to someone.
While the plane is lining up to moor at the pier, Walsh paces back and forth, looking eager to get on the aircraft and get as far away from New York City as he possibly can. Things went sour here, went down wrong, and if only Nicholas Ruskin had blown up the first time he tried to kill him, things would have been so much better for everyone.
Especially Keira.
There's no sirens to spur Lexington, Seamus or Lucille into action out here. Only the empty stretch of road they're parked on, the high chain-link gate and fence, and the floodlights illuminating the marina. The night air is crisp, cold and invigorating.
"Huntin' rifle," Seamus says, just off the top of his head. Looking back, he smirks at Lucille snatches up the exact rifle he was talking about. "Scoped. But… Hold on a second, Rambo." Seamus peers through his binoculars a bit more, chewing idly on his tongue as he watches that figure standing there. "We gotta face him before he dies. He needs to see the face of th' Lanes he tried to fuck over b'fore he dies. Get in close, either quickly or without being noticed, and blast him after he turns around, but before he can draw a weapon. How close you think you can get us without him noticing us, Lexi?"
As that plane starts to come down, Seamus curses and drops into his seat, snatching up that .45 that Lucille discarded, tucking it into his waistband as he digs out two handguns, offering one to Lexi.
"Seamus, we're the only car around. We rev the engine, he's gonna hear it." Lexi folds her arms, shaking her head at him. "Didn't'cha ever hear the phrase 'pride b'fore the fall'. We take the time t'make some sorta point that won't matter 'cause he's a dyin' man anyway and he just might get the chance t'give us the slip. Fuckin' monologues always get ya in the end."
"Has a point Seamus.. why don't you.. shoot the rocket at the plane once he gets inside?" Is that a dumb idea? Lucille Ryans looks from Seamus to Lexington. "I mean.. things go boom with you inside and normally that's not good. Especially in your pants." No relevance to the subject, but she had to say it.
"Well where's th' glory in that?" Seamus says with a smirk, glancing back at Lucille with a smirk. His eyes meet Lexi's and he sobers however, tucking his handgun into the back of his pants. "I wanna see his face, Lex," he says, the anger slowly growing, "I wanna see fear and pain in his eyes when he knows he's about to die. Quick and unexpected is too good for that fucker." With that said, he climbs out of the Jeep, snatching up the LAM as he goes, slinging the strap over his shoulder.
"Well, too bad, Seamus. I'm far more concerned with him gettin' dead. You don't need a fuckin' show. And let me tell you, if you insist on this an he fuckin' gets away? I am gonna beat the shit out've ya like ya never had it happen b'fore. And you'll be seein' no forgiveness from me. A show is what he did to us. It was fuckin' ridiculous. We kill him, he's dead, and it's over." Lexington looks over at Lucille, nodding a bit to her. "See, the girl sees sense, even in post-bullet wound shock."
While the three discuss their plan and Seamus finds his resolve, the seaplane has taxied all the way up to the pier and the mooring line is tied off. The plank that comes down from the plane accompanies a pair of tall and burly gentlemen in heavy winter jackets, dark sunglasses and knit caps. One of them is armed with a visible handgun, and his posture seems challenging to Walsh where he stands on the pier.
Walsh lowers his cell phone, sliding it closed as he watches the two men emerge from the plane. Seamus can't hear them as he approaches the fence, and without his binoculars up he can barely see them at this distance. Lexington and Lucille have the same disadvantage, but whatever is going on seems to be some sort of disagreement, or shotgun negotiation.
When Seamus reaches the edge of the unlit fence, it looks like it will be an easy climb. There's no razorwire or anything at the top, just a high climb and a drop over. But Lexington doesn't seem sold on the face-to-face confrontation.
There's only so much time to argue.
Glancing back at Lexi, there's conflict on Seamus' face, teeth gritted in anger. Lexi's seen that look before: It's the look when he's trying to convince himself to do something stupid, after she's told him why he shouldn't.
After a few moments, as always happens, he lets out a huff of breath. "Fine. Okay…I'm heading down there with the rocket. Wait until I get over the fence and in position, then you and Lucille charge down with weapons drawn. I'll take out the plane before they can get on. They'll be stunned by the explosion, and you'll have them as sitting ducks." As he says that, though, he grins. This will be FUN!
Moving as stealthily down to the fence as he can, Seamus starts to climb quietly, LAW swinging against his back. The back of his shirt rides up, the metal of his handgun glinting against his bare skin. Swinging himself over the side, he drops to the other side, landing in a crouch and stifling the 'oof' that he wants to give off. The LAW gets unshouldered, and he takes aim…
"Alright, Luce! Get your gun ready and just shoot anything down there that isn't Seamus." Lexi puts her rifle in her lap as she waits until Seamus is in position, then cranks the jeep and floors it, tires screeching as she takes aim for the fence and plows right through it. Yeehaw!
Nodding her head, Lucille slides into the front seat and picks up the rifle. Hanging out the window, she grins over at Lexi. "If I shoot him though.. I won't have to give him a massage~." Evil laugh, rifle cocked. Eyes ahead.
Whatever exchange is going on at the pier, it's viewed down the flip-up reticle of Seamus' small, portable rocket launcher. The conversation turns heated, clipped edges of shouted words audible across the thousand foot distance between the inside of the fence and the pier. The two men that got off the seaplane approach Walsh, one of them grabs one of the duffelbags, pulls it open and checks something, then throws it to the other man.
Leveling a gun on walsh, the heavily dressed thug stares the Irishman down, and Walsh's expression turns stony in the face of the barrel. He says something, too quiet to be heard but his expression is stoic and cold, resolute of fear. Just as things reach a crescendo of tension, the crash of the Jeep Cheroke crashing through the fence brings the thugs' attention to the sound, allowing Walsh to swiftly pull out a hold-out pistol from his coat, one quick pop to the head taking out the man with the gun, dropping him down to the dock.
The other thug with the duffelbag starts to run towards the plane, scrambling with his head down as Walsh turns towards the sound of squealing tires and roaring engine. But another, more terrifying noise catches the arms dealer's attention when the whistling shriek of a light anti-tank weapon being fired hits his ears.
Blue eyes go wide and Walsh throws himself down to the ground as the rocket sails — not for him — but for the seaplane.
It impacts thorugh the front windscreen, turning into a colossal ball of fire and black smoke that blasts the plane up out of the water, blows the roof off of the fuselage and spluts the wings down the middle. The engines rupture, sending propellers and shrapnel in every direction. The thug halfway to the plane disappears in the flames, and his shrapnel-riddled body is blown into the water by the shockwave.
As Lexington drives the Jeep towards the pier at high speed, fiery embers from something are blowing across the pier and the harbor, carried on the cold winter wind. On pier, laying on his side, Walsh isn't moving as the Jeep approaches, and only as it draws close does he roll onto his back, wheezing and gasping for breath, a large and jagged section of metal embedded in his abdomen. He looks left and right, his gun flung out of reach, and when he tries to move to get up and retrieve it, pain sends him down onto his back again.
As the Jeep screeches to a stop, Walsh looks up at the vehicle, trying to discern the identities of the passengers through the glare of fire on the windshield with no luck.
True to her word, Lexington doesn't waste time on any speeches, she just watches him roll over onto his back and proceeds to press down the gas and roll right over him, like a speed bump. But unsatisfied, she puts the car in reverse… and rolls over him again. And then drive… and then reverse… She does it enough that one might conclude she has a bit of a thirst for revenge herself. But eventually she swings the jeep around and comes over toward Seamus. "How's that?"
Seamus is up on his feet and charging towards the pier, and he's leaping onto the pier by the time Lexi is backing up the second time. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he tucks his handgun back in the back of his pants, hands going to his hips as he watches Walsh's body turn into something easier to digest for the crows. "Enjoyed yourself, Lex?" he calls out, as she gets out of the car, the coldness in his voice laced with dark humor. When she gets close to him, he sweeps her up in a sudden, silent hug, lifting her off the ground.
"Wait, wait wait!"
Lucille calls as she gets out of the car and hurries over to Walsh. With a tilt of her head and a wrinkle of her nose.. she peers down and then points the rifle at what's left of Walsh's head..
There goes the rest of it.. Looking proud of herself. Lucille hops up and down, swinging her good arm. "He's dead!" She says with a laugh, then she's looking at her hands.. she's happy about this..? Um.. okay. Yes she is happy about this.
"I'm dizzing.." Lucille says as she staggers away from the body and comes to Lexi and Seamus.
With technopathy blocking calls of alert from being placed about the explosion, there's only so much Logan will be able do to stall law enforcement from arriving, but there is time enough for macabre revelry.Though, right about that time, as Lucille staggers away, her knees buckle and the young woman collapses down up against the side of the jeep, rifle falling from her hands to clatter to the asphalt. Blood loss accounts for her waning consciousness, eyes fluttering partway shut, open again and then close fully as she slides the rest of the way down to the ground. Walsh's mutilated body lays bleeding on the ground beside where the gun runners have managed their brand of cutthroat revenge.
It's only in their embrace that Lexington and Seamus recognize what the embers coming from the burning seaplane are, as one of them hits Lexington across the shoulder, and Benjamin Franklin, half on fire, stares up at Seamus from there.
Money is on fire, hundreds of thousands of dollars that Walsh made during his time as an arms smuggler, a large portion of which was probably to be used to pay his way across the border. Flaming currency is carried on the wind, burning money blowing across the water, most little more than tiny scraps of green paper caught aflame.
But for Lexington and Seamus, at the very least, their confrontation with Daniel Walsh was never about something as simple as money, it wasn't even about their business, it was about something that the pair can clearly understand and account for.
It was about blood. While others may have been able to cite more noble reasons to end the life of Daniel Walsh, from his reign of terror as a member of Humanis First all the way through to the firebombing of the Lane's business, it was plain and simple for the Lanes. He tried to kill them.
Finally, Walsh's life of crime and violence caught up to him, and no amount of backstabbing or betrayal could save him.
He got what he had coming.