Participants:
Scene Title | Trust Company |
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Synopsis | A couple of girls from Redbird run into a homeless man they decide to take home and a doctor they decide not to. :( |
Date | September 06, 2010 |
Early evening: a time of transition. The sun lingers just behind the borough's buildings, turning the sky an ominous red for the few hours before curfew. Given that, the population of Brooklyn continues along with its last minute bustle. From the still successful businessman to the lowly homeless guy, people are just trying to get their business done.
It's the same thing with Luther, who at present is receiving the business end of a few untied boots and fists from a couple of men. Seems like even in the nicer parts of the city, there's thugs and bullies beating on the bums. The only question might be, why?
"Hey!" Brennan's coming out of a corner store, a last minute "honey I want ice cream sandwiches and pickles and …" Anything else that a very pregnant woman could want and desire and he's if nothing, a very loving husband who curses the curfew and his inability at one in the morning to fulfil her desires.
The physician comes barreling out of the store though, dropping the plastic bag of goods to the ground as he makes for the abuse that's happening. "Get your hands off of him" They could have guns, they could have god knows what, but Brennan's more than willing to wade right in.
Exiting one of the businesses, Peyton and Monica have just completed an initial survey to get the logistics necessary to put together a plan and meet again with the client to present it in a couple of days. Peyton's dressed as apropos for the "CFO" in a linen sheath dress and high heels, carrying the black leather portfolio in which she took notes. Stepping out, the red glare of the setting sun makes her pull her sunglasses down from her head to her eyes. "That went well," she nods toward Monica before the sound of scuffles and yells interrupts the dialogue between the two young women representing Redbird Security.
"Hey!" she calls out as well, reaching into her purse for her cell phone to call 9-1-1, though something stays her hand from doing just that — it's not always the best solution in this day and age when people might not want to be saved by the officials, as the officials might not be on their side. "I'm calling the cops!" she calls out, as a warning to the scuffling men, her long legs hurrying her toward them, rather than away from them as common sense might dictate. She blinks as she sees Brennan to the rescue, her own doctor of choice.
Monica is dressed businessy, too. She's got on black pants and a jacket over a white shirt. And sensible, butt-kicking shoes. She pulls her sunglasses on, too, as the girls exit the building. "Yeah, I think so…" She trails off when those noises get her attention. Unlike the others, Monica doesn't call out any warnings or shocked exclamations, she just runs in from the opposite side the doctor is rushing in from, and leaps up as she spins around to deliver a kick to one of thug's heads. It's really the sort of thing you only see in those kung-fu movies, but hey… opportunity to advertise?
The pair of toughs aren't too concerned about the intervention of the doctor. A couple of shots get through before Brennan can get in. Luther isn't just taking the punches though, and, back pushed up against the building side, he lashes out with a wild punch aimed for one of the men's faces. The doctor turns out to be the unlucky one, clipped by the messy strike. The distraction of the 9-1-1 threat is just enough that Monica's graceful tactics slams a little 'sole' into the second man before he can fully latch on. The blow sends the other spinning to the ground in a temporary daze. The first thug whirls around with a bewildered 'what the hell was what' stare for the newly arrived cavalry.
Not every day that you get clipped by the guy you seem to be trying to help but he can be forgiven, even as Brennan's chin takes the brunt of the homeless mans fist. His own fist clipping one of the guys on that try - Not Luther - that he had been intending to kidney shot and bring down to his knee's. Fail.
He tries for a second shot, still the kidney shot, hands balled into a fist and following through despite Luther's accidental intervention with some distinct amount of force. "Someone call the cops!" Some blood at the corner of his mouth from where teeth bit on lip that will inevitably result in Michelle cooing over him in french and holding an old fashioned ice pack to his mouth while chiding him for forgetting her ice cream sandwich.
Possibly.
For now, there's a fight to end, and another woman in the fray to account for lest he gets a flying foot to the jaw.
Her hand still wrapped around the cel, Peyton stays a few feet from the fray, knowing she is likely going to take more damage than she inflicts and knowing Monica is much more equipped to handle that end of things. "Get the fuck out of here, or I'm calling the cops right now," she swears at the thugs, thumb dramatically pushing down on the 9 key as she stares at them, though she still hesitates. Monica and she certainly don't need the cops involved in this, and she isn't sure what Monica's registration status is — nor the homeless man's. "I'm gonna bet none of you have the proper paperwork to show them if they come. You wanna spend the night in jail?" she wagers — she hopes they're not evolved, though at least Brennan's here if that's the case.
Monica lands with equal grace, in a bit of a crouch, but she doesn't stay there. As the man spins toward the ground, Monica meets him on her way up with an elbow to the temple. She's looking to knock him out cold, obviously. She also seem to assume if the other guy jumped in, he can handle himself, at the moment.
Tables turn with the next few moments pitting two extra against the thugs. The kidney shot throws a pained grimace up to the first man's face and he bends, crumpling to a knee. Win?
A second blow puts the guy out cold beneath Monica alright, leaving the woman with one rather heavy man slumped against the concrete. Peyton's threat to call the cops gets Luther's attention more than anything else, and he gives her a panicked look from a bruising eye. The look says everything he doesn't verbalize - he really, really, really doesn't want those fingers to move up the buttons to 1.
With the two men on the ground, Peyton hurries to where her seldom used car is, a Mercedes that she still thinks of as her father's that rarely leaves the parking garage of her building. She unlocks it with the remote from a distance, and perhaps a little foolishly, she nods toward it. "Come on, get in," she calls to all involved in the scrum, the kneeling man and the unconscious man not included in the vague invitation. Not far in the distance a siren wails, which suggests someone managed to get past the 9 on their phone. "Doc, Mon, mister, let's move it before those cops get here."
Once the man is down, Monica turns toward Peyton's voice, giving her a nod. And then she looks back to Luther, "We're the good guys. Come on, we'll get you outta here." Gesturing him along, she glances over to the doctor, giving him a soft smile before she turns to head toward the car, too. After she gives the other guy a swift kick for good measure.
He paid by cash, would that be tracked to him? He could say, if tracked down later, that he got pulled along to provide medical attention to the injured party. Forget that one of the injured part was himself. His thumb touches the corner of his mouth, coming away red and with a pained glance towards the downed men and their injured condition, he's swiping his bag of good for his wife and following suit and offering a hand to Luther's arm to help keep him upright as they head for Peyton's vehicle. "My place Whitney. Michelle can look him over" or Brennan can.
The sound of sirens spooks Luther first into a tense freeze, but then offered hands up and friendly-enough sounding voices get him to move. The man stumbles up with aid, hunched and limping for the vehicle. A loud curse snarls through the air at them from the one thug who hasn't been completely incapacitated, but enough is enough for him as well. He busies himself with the quick slapping of his accomplice's face to try and wake the other from the K.O. as the group makes their escape.
Once everyone's in the car, Peyton peels off, doing a couple of turns here and there through alleys quickly to get herself away from the area. A few moments later on a busy street, she peers in the rearview mirror at the strange face of Luther and the familiar face of Brennan, then glances at Monica, assessing the injuries of those in the car.
"Don't say anything yet," she advises Luther and shoots the glance to Monica as well. She doesn't ask Brennan how to get to his place, and then after another half a block, suddenly turns into an alley. The closest corner is a busy enough one with a Starbucks and a Pinkberry. It's hardly the middle of nowhere.
She unlocks the door and nods to Brennan. "Thanks for your help, Doc. I'm gonna let you out here. I'm sure we can handle his medical needs on our own." Her dark eyes are apologetic as she looks at Brennan, as they've been in situations like this together in the past. It breaks her heart not to trust him.
Monica blinks at Peyton, but she doesn't say a word, which may give the impression of the silent bodyguard cliche, but hey. What can you do? She gives a glance back to Brennan, too, less apologetic than Peyton, but more confused. She's not asking any questions, though. Not yet.
Brennan's lips draw a flat flat line as he regards Peyton, then Monica and Luther. The loss or lack of trust is nothing new to him and the physician just nods his head, grabbing the door handle and letting himself out just after he'd started getting comfortable in the vehicle and about to ask Luther where it hurts. No 'it's okay' or 'I understand'.
Just Brennan, getting out of the vehicle with his bag, a quick check for bearings and start to make his way home.
Wait, what? Where's the other guy going? Who are these girls? One thing's more important than anything though, and that's getting away. Now that Luther's had a chance to get his bearings too, and stink up poor Peyton's Benz's interior with the stench of him, he start moving for the door on his side as well. "Uh… thanks," he mumbles for the pair of women awkwardly, a tone of apology for the trouble slipped into the monosyllabic terms. Now that he's gotten a chance to settle, though, the pain of his injuries makes its way into the man's bones. Possibly cracked bones. He squints through it, vision blurring his peripheral view and Monica's turned profile features in the process.
"Hold on — we can bring you somewhere, give you a place to rest maybe, and get you looked at. I'm not kidnapping you, I swear it, just… I … he's government," Peyton whispers once Brennan is out of the car and beginning to walk away. Her eyes watch him and grow a little teary. She gulps audibly. "Can you call the boss and ask if it's okay if we bring this guy by?" she tells Monica, then glances back at Luther.
Reaching out to offer a hand to shake, she murmurs, "I'm Peyton. We work at a security firm, but … you looked worried when I mentioned the cops, and I'm guessing you're not registered or worse, and we can maybe find you someplace to stay, if that's the case."
Since Peyton explains before Monica even asks, the other girl nods with more understanding. "Gotcha. Yeah, I'll give him a call." As she pulls out her phone, she looks back to Luther. "And I'm Monica." She doesn't offer her own hand, but only because she's busy dialing and such.
Seeing as he's too late to say his thanks to the doctor, and then the notice of 'government' comes. It's too weird, too coincidental. The icing on the cake is seeing Monica's face. "You… you're…" The man stumbles over his words again, but with good reason. He doesn't say any more than that, but sits back onto the car seat looking a little more stunned at the turn of events. "Who are you people?" Sure, they just introduced themselves to him. But what's in a name?
"We're friends," is Peyton's succinct answer. When Luther doesn't jump out of the car and instead settles back, Peyton turns back around and begins the drive back toward Redbird Solutions, glancing over to Monica as she listens to the onesided conversation that tells her that on the other end, the King of Endgame has okayed them bringing the injured homeless man to him.