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| Scene Title | Feels Like Betrayal |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Lola comes to seek Kain out for help with Linderman, and that's exactly what she doesn't get. |
| Date | October 13, 2009 |
It's been arranged.
Clandestine meetings are always so very fun in the movies. Loud places, secret signals. In real life, and particularly in Rapture, the night club, it's at least loud. But little else at the moment. Every dance floor is busy, but not over-crowded. It is, after all, a Monday, but that doesn't stop a lot of people. Expensive clothes that look simple and 15 dollar martinis swirl among the color and beat of the music.
That beat is about to make Lola's head explode.
"All right, I thought I was getting better," she calls over to Cardinal. She, today, is wearing tight black pants, a loose-necked, sleeveless red top. Her hair is up in a tight ponytail. Hey, if she finally gets to go out in public agian, she wants to look nice! If slightly tacky, but still. She doesn't appear to look happy, however - the throbbing in the room is causing her head to do just that, throb. "I've got half a mind to walk up to that bar and order a roofie-tini. Hey you!" She reaches to grab a nearby cocktail waitress - literally grab. Momma needs her fix!
There's no answer from her shadow as she chatters along openly in the midst of the club to someone who isn't, in fact, visibly there. Of course, there's enough people here that've been dosed with something or other and aren't entirely in their sane mind that someone talking to a person that doesn't exist isn't completely out of the ordinary.
Cardinal's there, of course, hiding in her shadow as she walks along, blended perfectly and seamlessly with the outline she casts by the light. He's just not talking.
Only after Lola has gotten herself a Sex on the Beach with a frilly umbrella and a twisty straw are she and her untethered shadow headed towards where they were welcomed. Up a black spiral staircase that cups up one wall of the club, to a horseshoe-shaped catwalk that is suspended over the dance floor. Around that walkway, they're finally greeted by a familiar face — at least to Lola — all seven feet of Manny Calevera in a dark reds uit with rose-colored pinstriping. The bald enforcer lifts up his round-lensed sunglasses and motions for Lola to come with him, offering her not the usual smile he does, but just a curt nod of his head. It's the first sign something isn't quite right.
Manny takes Lola thorugh a door and into a quieter hall, where faux wood paneling and sconce lighting creates muted shadows perfect for Cardinal to flit to and fro from. Along the way, he stops by an unmarked door, knocking twice before just entering. None of the club's music is heard in this lounge, save for the distant throb of the bass beats in quiet thumping.
Seated on a black leather sofa, Kain Zarek looks to be a man who enjoys his position in life, even if none of that shows on his face. A black suit and shirt stands out against a crisp red tie, blonde hair swept back away from his face, and a vodka bottle open and half empty in front of him. Blue eyes track to the door, seeing Manny escorting Lola in. He nods to Manny, wordlessly, and the pale thug just closes the door behind Lola with a soft click.
"Didn't think Ah'd hear from you 'gain…" Kain quietly drawls out, sitting forward with a clink of his glass down on the table in front of him. "Come on in, girl. We…" his dark brows furrow together, "we got somethin' t'discuss."
"What is this?" Lola asks the stranger showing them up, gesturing to her drink. "It's delicious. It's a what? Hah!" She chuckles, sipping the drink again. Mmmmmm. "That sounds disgustin. Sand, sugar. Sand everywhere." She's perfectly happy to see Manny, and grins even as he doesn't. That's her way - making light of what might be serious. Inside, her mind is racing. There is, after all, someone in Linderman's group that wants her dead. Could Kain be the hit man?
"Why is it I'm suddenly thinkin' I'm 'bout ta get shot agian?" Lola asks as she walks in, checking the room for exits, guards, weapons - anything she might need here. "Did ya'll at least figure out who was tryin' ta out me?" She asks, moving to slump down in a chair beside Kain, sitting back with just a flinch and crossing her legs, sipping from her drink once more.
That's not a good sort of greeting, nor a good tone of voice or expression from the notorious Kain Zarek.
Therefore, Cardinal bleeds out into the shadows of the room, flitting here and there, curling up along the edge of the wall and washing out behind the sofa where the man lounges, becoming part of the scenery. So to speak.
"Actually…" Kain says with a furrow of his brows, reaching in to his jacket to produce a .45 caliber revolver. "M'really sorry darlin." In the time it takes the movement of the revolver to register, the muzzle flash and crack of the gun firing happens, sending a bullet directly into Lola's midsection anf punching through the chair in a torrent of stuffing. The round packs enough of a punch to make it feel like she was hitin the stomach with a baseball bat, searing hot pain shooting up from the abdominal wound. Kain runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek, watching Lola's glass tumble out of her hand as what just happened sets in, sending the glass shattering to the floor.
Kain moves up from his seat, lips downturned into a frown and eyes focused distantly. "Ah'm sorry darlin'… Ah' ain't got a good answer for you." Now that she's been shot there's plenty of time for conversation, stomach wounds are slow to bleed out — even if excruciatingly painful. "Danny gave me an order round 'bout yesterday. You're a security risk, talkin' t'the wrong people. M'sorry girl, but this is mah job. This is what Ah' do." As if that should be anything of a surprise to her.
This isn't how she imagined it, dying in the den of Daniel Linderman. At least, she can hope, shock will set in soon enough.
She doesn't scream. Even she's surprised that she doesn't.
Staring down, Lola is surprised to find her hand already pressing over the wound, her hand stained with blood. She feels pale, she feels sick. Not only was she just shot, but she was shot by Kain. "I didn'…." she starts to say, tripping over the words. She hunches over a bit, as if trying to cradle her own stomach - it doesn't work well. Her dark eyes flit away from Kain - who she is very mad at - to Manny. To him, her gaze is more pleading. As if maybe he might help her. But the gaze moves back to Kain in a moment. "I am going to haunt the shit out of you, you son of a bitch," she breathes, and boy does she look mad. And scared. There are tears in her eyes - she doesn't want to die, and she can't hide the terror that's there now. But that doesn't mean she can't be mad too.
The shadow ripples up and over the back of the couch like the dying of the light as the man rises from his seat upon it, and from that shadow rises the man within it, pulling forth into monochrome black that bleeds away into colour as a heavy pistol comes up from beneath his jacket and levels itself an inch behind the other man's head.
The click of a hammer pulling back is loud when it's that close.
"Been awhile, Kain," Cardinal observes mildly, "Drop the gun, if you please. You too, Manny. I'd hate to have to make even more of a mess in here tonight."
That grate of a voice behind Kain causes the blonde man to slowly raise his hands, fingers pulling away save for pinkie and thumb from his revolver. Manny, too slow on the draw to get out his own piece, just very hesitantly backs his hand out of his jacket, the red tinted lenses of his sunglasses hiding the focus of his eyes. "Well, if it ain't the ghost of Christmas past." Kain drags out with a sour sarcasm, hands spread and gun dangling loosely from his hand. "If you're lookin' to shoot ol' Princess here, you're a little late."
Turning his head just a little, Kain affords Cardinal a view of his profile, blue eyes narrowed as he looks at the man holding him at gunpoint. "Ah' don' suppose I could ask you nicely t'get that there gun outta' mah face while I finish one little thing, yeah?"
Lola remains doubled over in the chair, grunting and moaning in pain. This hurts more than the last two times she got shot. Both, by the way, which are still healing. "What could ya possibly have ta finish, ya drunk ol floozie?" Yes. He's old and constantly intoxicated. She knows how it is! "I ain got any heroin balloons up my ass, so ya can' stick around fer me ta bleed out just to stick yer fingers in my rear if that's what yer plannin. That excuse won' work here," as though he may have tried to use it elsewhere. Oh right, the bleeding. And the dying. "Sug…can we…call one a them doctors with the little black bags or somethin? Or your wrinkly old friend?" she puses for a moment, tears staining her face. "This really hurts, an I'm pretty sure I didn' deserve this one at all."
"Sorry. Business, Kain; you know how it goes." Cardinal's lips draw into a faint, tight smile that probably isn't reflected in eyes hidden by the shades he's wearing, head tilting in the direction of the table, "Gun down, old hoss, and keep it slow and easy movements. Manny, take your big handsome self along over and set your gun down, I know you've got one. Then I'd appreciate it if maybe you could bandage up the pretty li'l lady there so she doesn't die while we have a li'l talk."
"Jesus Christ, Kain…" Is the first thing out of Manny's mouth as he moves slowly in complience with Cardinal's orders. The lumbering hulk of a man comes to stand beside the table, reaching carefully into his jacket to remove his Glock, then bends down and sets it on the table, eyes angled up over the rims of his glasses to Cardinal, then back to Lola. "She ain't gonna' make it with a— " Manny just cuts himself off, hands up into the air as he backs up and makes his way towards the brunette. There's a sorry look on his face, weak and weary as he crouches down and picks up her hands, pressing down them hard over the wound. "Just hold them there, I know it hurts, okay? We're gonna get you to a…" he doesn't know how to finish that sentence, with morgue or doctor. Nothing suffices.
Just letting his gun fall out of his hand, Kain's revolver clunks down to the floor heavily. He turns, facing Cardinal fully now, brows lowered and eyes red around the edges. "If yer gonna shoot, then shoot Darkwing, because otherwise Ah've got shit t'do. Ah' ain't interested in whatever it is you got t'say."
Lola screams. Well hells bells, she's got a gargantuan of a man bearing his hands down over her bullet wound. What else would she do but let out a cry and writhe between Manny's grasp and teh chair beneath her. "You ain' got no idea how it hurts!" Lola shouts angrily back at Manny. She hates him. She's sure he does. She hates Manny and Kain and Cardinal's hair and the table and the lamp and the floor. Everything is ugly and she wants it all to burn. But that might just be the pain talking. "Here, hand me that gun, I'll show you how much it hur-ahhh!" Another shout, her own hands pressing on top of Manny's, both quickly covered in her dark cajun blood. She's pissed and in pain, but she really doesn't want to die. "First thing Imma do if I make it out a this if get ahold of every drug I can touch and get high as a motherfuckin' kite." She's that pisseed.
Once the weapons are on the table, Cardinal leans back from where that threatening posture to rest his backside on the top of the couch in an easy perch; resting his arm lightly on the one knee with the foot upon the sofa's arm, the heavy russian-made pistol held across it to keep the well-oiled barrel's mouth on the other man. "You just finished detox, darlin'. I am not holding your hair while you vomit up your fuckin' drugs again, you aren't fucking me, you know."
A brow lifts a bit at Kain, "Yeah, yeah. Of course you're not, they all say that. I'm not the same six dollar thug I was the last time we met, you know, Cajun. I've been around the city a few times. You don't particularly want to shoot the lady over there, do you? Just business."
"Yer right," Kain says with a narrowing of his eyes, "you look very five dollah' these days." Those dark brows go up again, and Kain's blue eyes track from Cardinal to lola and back again. He doesn't afford Manny a look, maybe because the sight of blood all over Manny hands is just too soon of a reminder of how quickly the gorilla went to Lola's aid. "Ah' do what Ah' gotta do… t'pay off mah' debts. You been out on the street long enough t'know that much, Ricky."
Ricky. Really. Nobody calls him that anymore, it's embarrassing.
"Kain's blue eyes settle on Cardinal, then down to the gun. "So who hired you t'off me? Monroe? He ain't done pissin' in Danny's cereal yet, figured the one-two punch a daughter and hitman might make the ol' goat keel over?"
"What is this, sharing time? Shoot the fucker in the scalp!" Lola urges Cardinal. Did we mention she's angry? But even that yell fades again in another cry of pain with Manny's hands all in her red stuff. She turns to look at him, her hands pressing hard over him. "Manny, please…." The fear is becoming more overwealming than the anger. And she's dizzy and light headed now. She really doesn't feel good. "Manny please…I don't want to die. Please don't let me," She's not above begging for her life!
At the name he's been called, Cardinal actually winces a little bit. Maybe Lola didn't hear that. Well, it could be worse. At least Brian's stopped calling him 'Dicky' finally.
"If you wanted her dead," he replies flatly, "You would've shot her in the fuckin' head. You shot her in the fuckin' stomach, which means you either really don't like her, or you were hoping she could give you a reason not to kill her. Stop whining, Lola, you'll be fine."
A faint smile, brows raising to Kain, "I'm not an assassin. I don't work for anyone but me— for the record, Monroe didn't kill Porter. I did kill the sonuvabitch who did, though. Just wondering, how much /does// Danny boy keep you in the loop on about shit goin' down in the city?"
Blue eyes narrow at the insinuation, and Kain's grumbling response is "Enough." Behind him, Manny's attention is solely on Lola, his hands resting over hers, trying to keep pressure on her stomach, but as he turns his head, there's a pleading look to Cardinal. Right now, Lola is the wrong one to beg for her life, and when he does finally speak up, it's to that point.
"She needs a doctor." Manny's astute grasp of the obvious is sharp like a razor's edge. "She's gonna bleed t'death internally. I don't wanna' have to watch that happen more than once in my life." Kain's eyes narrow a touch, head tilting to the side and jaw squaring as he regards Cardinal.
"If you ain't here t'shoot me, an' you ain't here t'shoot her… " those eyes narrow, "then you better start talkin'." Because obviously he's not here to shoot Manny. Somehow, though, the bodyguard is offended Kain didn't consider that unlikely possibility. He's people too, after all.
Even in her current state, Lola rolls her eyes. "THIS IS NOT A FUCKING SOCIAL HOUR YOU SHIT-FUCKING DICKS!" She yells to both men, sniffling back even as tears roll down her cheeks. Manny, he will be her salvation. Her hands dig into his over her belly wound. "Manny please, they're fucking crazy. Please take me to a doctor, okay? I won't say a word to anyone, never agian, about nothing, not ever just please, please…."
"Manny."
Cardinal doesn't look away from the man that he's regarding, "I'm assuming you could get the girl out've here without gettin' too much attention and find a nice local cutter to keep her from bleeding to death? Seems like it'd be the sort of thing you've done before. You've always seemed like an upstanding guy, I think I can trust you to do that and not call in reinforcements."
A faint smile, "If I was here to kill anybody, they'd be dead already. I've got business to discuss with your boss here."
Jaw set, Kain's blue eyes track from Cardinal to Manny, meeting the expectant stare of the bodyguard. Nodding his head twice in quick succession, Kain looks back to Cardinal, brows furrowed. Wordlesly, Manny moves his hands, taking Lola's again and pressing them down over her stomach. "Hold these here, hold 'em nice an' hard…" One arm goes under her legs, the other behind her back, and like a cat with a wounded paw, Manny hoises Lola up as if she doesn't even weigh as much as a box of feathers. He considers Cardinal for a moment, thorugh those red lenses, then starts making his way for the hallway door.
People were already expecting a body to be moved out of this room. This is close enough.
Kain's focus settles back on Cardinal as Manny starts helping Lola to the door. "What's on the agenda for today, slim-shady?" A step is taken away from Cardinal, towards te sidebar near the far wall. If he's going to continue being held at gunpoint, it'll be with a drink in his hand.
She screams. Again. Being picked up and your belly moved when there's a bullet in there hurts. Having such a thing done with two healing wounds hurts. All while during withdrawal. Lola's life sucks. She's growing weaker, rather light in Manny's arms even by her own standards. Very pliable. She looks over the large man's shoulder, staring at…Kain. Tears and blood and hate and fear and sadness and illness. He was right - she really should have known. He's Linderman's man, and her being a Linder-girl shouldn't have mattered.
But it still feels an awful lot like betrayal probably feels.