Thank You For Flying Chicago Air


cardinal_icon.gif jake_icon.gif zuleyka_icon.gif

With NPCs by:


Scene Title Thank You For Flying Chicago Air
Synopsis A routine delivery run to Staten Island turns into a running gunfight with some youths in way over their head.
Date March 20, 2009

Parking Lot on Staten Island

In spite of first impressions, Jake is actually an okay pilot. Most people who think they know him would probably assume that anything more complicated than breaking down an M2 Browning is beyond him, but he's been a good student of Fedor's, and Fedor is Pilot Man. His flying is not particularly elaborate and he doesn't try to make it so, but he's got plenty of hours and the ride's smooth, as are the landings. On this little flight he's extended the offer to Zu that she could sit copilot for him, although with the disclaimer that she is to touch none of the controls and just observe. That's if she wanted to take him up on it.

Flipping on the headset intercom he says for those that have their ears on, "We're coming in on the LZ. ETA about three."

Cardinal's sprawled comfortably into one of the seats in the back, legs stretched out, arms folded behind his helmet-clad head. "Roger that," he mutters into the intercom, pushing himself forward a bit, feet drawn back into a more appropriate position as he gets ready to get up and start unloading whatever-the-hell they're carrying to whoever-the-hell is paying them today. Hey, it's a paycheck.

Of course she took him up on it. Zu is doing that unconscious bouncing thing she does when she's especially pleased with the world. Even with the discomfort of the seats. "I feel like Chewbacca," she says, suddenly, apropos of apparently not a damn thing.

"That's because I'm Han Solo." replies Jake with a grin, glancing at Zu as he brings them in on a gentle direct landing. There'll be no pass or flyover. They aren't gonna take time to dick around with the landing area and recon it. This is going to be quick, in and out.

"If anyone calls me C3PO," Cardinal's voice comes, dry, over the intercom, "They're going for a bath next time we're overflying the river."

"You're Lando." offers Jake.

"Deal," Cardinal allows, mollified.

Zuleyka settles back with a smirk. She's got a black bandana with a paisley design of sinister looking cats bound over her hair, to keep it out of her face. It makes her look like an apprentice pirate. "You are a scoundrel," she confirms, watching the dials and gauges with a roving eye.

The bird settles in for a landing easily, Jake letting the rotors ease them down ever so slightly to where there is just the barest abrasion of skid on pavement when they land. And he stays seated keeping the engine warm. "We're down. Get us sorted, Card." Looks aside to Zu and says good-naturedly, "Give him a hand, kid? I'm gonna keep us spinning while we wait."

The original plan called for them, all four of them to entangle the rotors with a net. Certain that they could subdue the crew and then cut the net away, but they couldnt find a net nor could any of them figure out how to get it thrown ontop of the helicopter. So they were already onto plan B, which is really a better plan anyway. The moment that big Kamov touches down, the action begins.

Its a bright orange, aluminum ball about the size of a grapefruit and trailing a thick high tensile wire bashes through the aft door's window, before bouncing around inside the cabin some before becoming entangled in the particularly stout mounting rig for the cargo sling. It may not be a grappling hook, but it doesnt seem to be hurting for it!
In a rush, four men dressed in dark hoodies and dark pants and dark shoes but carrying big rifles dart from behind a row of overgrown bushes. One rushing to the port side of the aircraft, He's got an SKS with one of those cheesy tapco stocks and a cheesy scope and of course some flimsy 30rnd protrusion extending below his carbine. The only problem is, when he swings that rifle around, its pointed at Zu!"ENGINES OFF!" The screaming comes in unison, both as a crowd of figures struggles to fiddle with the rearward door and as our brave rifleman slowly approaches the cockpit.

The feel of the helicopter touching down is one that Cardinal's starting to get used to; at the distinctive feel of it, he unclips the belts holding him into his seat, and he pushes himself up to his feet. Just in time for a metal ball to nearly take his bloody head off as it ricochets off various things — throwing himself back against the seats to get out of its way before it tangles itself up in the rigging. "Motherfucker — JAKE WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"
Yeah, that was necessary. As if Jake doesn't already know? "Sonuvabitch," he mutters under his breath, pushing away from his precarious slouch near the seats and lunging over for the rig, working to untangle that aluminum sphere from the mounting rig.

This….they…how dare they spoil her tea party with all her Lost Boys? Those -bastards-. Zu's face is a marvel of petulance, even as she pulls her pistol and fires at the rifleman approaching. «Fuck you and fuck your mother.» She says, in that flawless classical Arabic.

Well for all that it may have been unnecessary, Jake does feel thankful that Cardinal confirms it. "Roger that," he says, sounding rather exasperated. As if this happens all the time. Frankly Jake thinks it's police or feds or something. Then he remembers where they are. International criminal hotspot. "Everybody…I dunno. Make sure they don't start shooting." he says, more exasperation as he kills the engines and lets the rotors spin themselves down from inertia. They won't be taking off anyway if they're under attack. Somebody might shoot the tail rotor or something and that would be a HUGE mess.

Jake takes his time unbuckling and unhooking everything there in the cockpit.

And subtly the seat Jake is sitting in creaks and groans as he suddenly becomes much heavier than he was before.

Rifle guy, is all a brave face until the girl produces a pistola and then theres utter shock. He starts to get himself back together, as the rounds pour in. One round smashes into his thigh, and another in his crotch, two in the stomach, antother in the chest and he's on the ground. His own rifle, of course goes off. As soon as it hits the ground, it goes off and continues to do so all by itself. Sending rounds out fully automatic as it slowly does donuts on the ground. No less than four of these rounds, tear into the poor castrated rifleman!

At the back door, theres arguing and screaming before the door finally is figured out and flung wide open. Armed with a motley arrangement of saturday night specials, they begin stuffing themselves into the back hatch. "Your gonna fly us to Mexico, or we're gonna kill you!"
The aluminum anchor, is pretty simple of course, and is entirely untangled by our resident sneakthief in just a moment or two. Just in time to be greeted by the neighborhood boys.

"What." Did they—did they seriously say they want to go to /Mexico/? Aren't these kids usually trying to go in the opposite direction? What the fuck? Cardinal stares at them for a moment, then thrusts the anchor in the air with a triumphant shout, "Yeah! Let's go, boys! To Mexico! Woo, fuck the US!"
Then the throws the bright orange ball at the shouting young man's head. Hard.

"I….what? What do I have that gun for? Jewelry?" Zu's voice is a harpy's shriek, and holy fuck she just totally shot that guy. It's simultaneously horrifying and amazing. "What the hell, Delta's fares were too high?" she demands. And then pops off another few rounds.

So much for making sure they didn't shoot. Jake can hear that full-auto of a rifle spitting mayhem on the ground. It won't take too long for the magazine to empty, he's sure, but still. Jake gets out of his seat and steps into the back of the bird where he grabs one of the idiots with the toy pistols and casually takes the saturday night special out of his hand, then lets the men see as he literally takes a BITE out of it, spits the barrel on the floor of the bird and says, "Which of you wants to fuck with me first? Huh?" in the demeanor of a father asking whether the neighborhood kids wants him to go to their parents.

The first man through the door was expecting alot of things, but he wasnt expecting a face full of metal hurled at his face. it slams into the poor fuck's mouth, and teeth and blood just go -everywhere-. he stumbles back out of the chopper, cold and limp. KTFO. The guy directly behind him starts to reach in and take a shot off, until Jake wrenches it from his hand. That leaves one behind, who just looks around with a sigh "Oh fuck this!" and he bails.

Zu meanwhile, tears the poor rifleman apart, until neither he nor his rifle is moving anymore. All falls silent, for a moment maybe two at the most. Then, a shotgun slug smashes through the cockpit window, where Jake had been seated. Big scary shards of glass shower the cockpit, as the slug buries itself into the back of Zu's seat!
ORDER: It is now your pose.

"Were these dumb sons of bitches actually trying to get us to fly them to Mexico? What the fuck kind've gas tank do they think we have, Jesus Christ," Cardinal complains, stepping over to pick up the anchor and hurl it back out the door with a scowl upon his face, though he doesn't go outside. He'll let Jake handle that one if need be. A hand comes up to his intercom, "Zu, you a'ight up there?"

"I totally killed him," she says, bending to peer at the corpse for a moment. "This guy, he's dead," Little Miss Obvious and her running commentary. "Motherfucker," she says, at the sound of the slug. "I'm okay. Situation, uh, all fucked up, but quiet."

Jake grabs the guy whose gun he just bit in two and says, "Why are they shooting up my helicopter?!" He grips a painful handful of bicep and drags the man out of the helo with him, pausing to look at Zu. "Good job, Zu. Get in the bird and keep the fuckers from stealing it. And get behind some metal. You ain't bulletproof." The bullshit weapons these guys are using will for the most part not go through the shell of the helicopter anyway. The pistols won't at least. He's still got his pet hijacker by the arm, who Is Not Getting Away, and demands of the man, "Tell me how many people are out there."

Jake stands right out in the middle of God and everybody, bulletproof and daring someone to test him.

Mr.shotgun isnt quite content though. He's kicked off the ball launcher on the end of his shotgun, and stepped out into the open. Shucking a shotshell before he swings that shotgun back around, putting a fistfull of buckshot through the aft porthole's. Shotgun shucking once more, as he returns his attention to Zu. Blowing holes in the big red and white bird, was less satisfying than shooting at a little girl.

"Shit!" As that buckshot crashes through the back of the bird, Cardinal ducks and twists away from the porthole — probably saving himself, as some of the pellets thump into the back of his shoulder, impacting the vest he's wearing beneath. A stumble forward, and he drops down, reaching out to grab up the saturday night special that went flying across the cabin when he smashed the anchor into the first hijacker's face, muttering under his breath, "Stubborn sons of— "

Zuleyka ducks right back in to the relative shelter of the chopper's hull, trying to keep an eye on all the hatches at once, and mostly looking like a budgie having a seizure, the way her head swivels and bobs at once.

Great. Jake's pet hijacker is worthless, so he eyes the shotgunner and begins marching toward the man, pet hijacker in tow. "You better run if you wanna live, motherfucker." he warns, acting as if the guy he's dragging by the arm weighs nothing. Which is about true to Jake right now.

Then again, maybe this game isnt very interesting at all. Mr.Shotgunner frowns, stepping back a touch before just dumping the shotty where he stands before turning tail. Taking off in a dead sprint, which of course is probably the wiser course of action. This leaves one, Jake's would be pet hijacker as the only concious hijacker remaining!
ORDER: It is now your pose.

Swearing up a storm, Cardinal crouch-walks over to the aft doors that the would-be hijackers pried open, reaching out to haul it closed with an audible slam. Over the comm, he murmurs, "Zu, everything alright up there?"
"Well, things are shot to shit, but it all seems functional," she says, over her own comm. "Man, what were these guys thinking?"

Jake takes a brief moment to look back toward the shot-up helicopter and the mess left around. At least one dead body that Jake notices so far, Zu's kill. All kinds of holes in the aircraft. A botched hijacking if ever there was one. And he does what comes naturally to an old veteran. He forcefully sits the hijacker he has in hand down on the dirt and starts to lecture him. "You bunch of stupid fucks. If you're gonna hijack something, NEVER hurt the ride!" He points at the helicopter. "You needed a plan that leaves the aircraft intact. You attack the people. The PEOPLE!" He slaps the back of his hand into the other, making the point. Pointing at the dead man on the ground, "Never use sub-standard weaponry. Use the best you can get your hands on. Lookit this garbage." Holds up the leftovers of the saturday night special he bit in two. "You wanna hijack a helicopter with this? You retard." Tosses the useless piece of metal in the hijacker's lap. "I ought to take a shit in your lap. Try harder next time."

Then Jake turns on a heel and walks away from the hijacker, back toward the helicopter, cussing up a storm about shot-up equipment. He really doesn't want to fly it out of here in that condition but doesn't have too much of a choice.

What the hell do you say to that, the poor fuck left sitting on the ground sure as hell doesnt know. Theres just a slack jaw and wide eyes, wait what? He was, Jake wasnt going to kill him? Of course, the moment Jake turns away he takes off after Mr.Shotgun in a dead sprint.

"Apparently, they wanted to go to fucking Mexico," Cardinal replies, walking back up through the helicopter to lean his head into the cockpit, hands on either side of the door, "Guess they missed a memo somewhere. Jesus, they really did shoot the fuck out've it."

Zuleyka just shakes her head, and starts, rather feebly, to poke around and clean it up. "No kidding. It's like trying to jack a get away car by shooting out the tires. Brilliant," she says, bitterly, fingering a hole in the fuselage.

Jake puts his hands on the sides of the door and leans his head in, sighing. "This is a royal mess. Is our meet even here? This was probably all a setup. A really lame setup." But he grins and looks at the other two. "Kinda fun though. Hey, Zu. You okay with popping that guy? That was clean. He was coming in to hurt us so you did the right thing."

"I'm pretty sure they're dead, so," Cardinal jerks his head to the controls, "Is it safe to still fly this bird? My vote is to getting the fuck out've here before someone else gets a bright idea…"

Zuleyka wrings her hands, once, and then pulls her bandana off and undoes the knot, wiping at her face with it. "I….there wasn't anything else to do," she says, sounding grumpy about it, rather than forlorn.

With a sigh Jake puts a hand on Zu's shoulder and squeezes gently. He's not superdense anymore. "C'mon, let's see if she'll fly." Then he climbs aboard to perform preflight checks. If those work out, he'll fly her. Even if there's a big hole in the cockpit windshield. He can see enough to get them somewhere safer.

The rounds dont seem to have penetrated anything immediately important, but while the KA-32 is derived from a military bird it lacks the five redundant systems and armor plating over important systems. Nothing smells like its leaking, nothing is pooling on the ground below. The bird, uglied as she is starts up just fine like nothing had happened. Truly beyond a little trim movement(to be expected with holes in the cockpit glass) it seems totally unphased.

Cardinal reaches over to briefly clasp Zuleyka's shoulder - if she doesn't pull away - offering quietly, "Y'did good, Zu." Drawing back, then, he heads into the back to settle in. Well, hey, free cargo at least?

"Thanks," she says, simply, and returns to her former seat in the cockpit.

As the helicopter lifts off, Han Solo tells Lando and Chewie, "Seriously, good job everybody. And yeah, free cargo. We don't have to deliver when the dropoff site is an ambush. They can just call back sometime."

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