“Are you trying to blackmail me?”
Another explosion shook the small newsstand sending bits of debris and dirt into their small alcove and Myles sat unflinching as it rained heavily over the two of them. He was still in shock at the gall this man had to try to threaten him in this very moment and his ludicrous stare was only broken at the sound of heavy footsteps of the police crunching across broken glass. Sharp eyes narrowed and he forced his frame closer against the disheveled papers to remain out of view, although it was already clear their attention was focused on the stray bullets that whizzed past only to hear the occasional THUNK of a well-placed shot.
But it only took one from either side to ruin any idea of a smooth getaway.
“What’s stopping me from killing you right now, hmm? And making it look like an accident considering the circumst—!”
The grip around Myles gun tensed at the sudden THUMP of a body crashing harshly into the ground, the bulky black uniform of the district officer looking seemingly intact save for the shattered visor and red that painted it’s inside. In a single movement, a strong arm reached out to drag the torso to safety and familiar hands searched the body with ease, flipping open pockets to find access cards and skipping over any bullets or currency.
“Why don’t you take your chances with the resistance. I hear they’re doing just fin—“ he paused as the shrill scream of some civilian was suddenly overshadowed by the amount of bullets that were probably being sprayed into his body rattled just outside their hiding place, “–fine. They’re doing just fine.”
Stuffing his pocket with the single access card he had been looking for, the blond tried to turn the cumbersome body on its side to reach the string of grenades tied to his back, struggling quietly as he did so to remain out of view of the still marching squads. The weaponry was getting more heavy duty, especially considering they were fighting against what Myles considered to be glorified civilians that were handed a gun probably no more than this morning. He internally sighed as he finally yanked one from its home. This wasn’t a suppression, their aim was kill every man and woman on that street. Nice tactical move – blame it on the resistance, gain more political support to use more drastic measure to stop the “Resistance threat”. Laughable.
Sitting up to a squat, Myles peeked around the corner into the dusty street, trying to map out the clear path to his next hiding spot. He needed to meet with Troy, at least he’d know what to do with the access card.
“Besides, I’m not the saving type. I doubt you’re any safer with me than you are just sitting right here–” Interrupted again, the rhythmic hum of a helicopter drifted into view and Myles released a comical sigh despite the sudden need to hurry, “then again I suppose I don’t care.”
@sectortrash
How the fuck do I get myself into these situations.
...
Oh, right, by being the schmuck who knows everything.
“Blackmailing you?” Lance replied sweetly--or as sweetly as one can when crouched on ones haunches while caught in the middle of a three-way crossfire. “Not at all. I was just remarking on how difficult for you it might be if new evidence were to come to light about that rich man’s son who they say topped himself. Isn’t that still an open case?”
It was rather amusing how this entire conversation could take place in the middle of a ‘rally’ (read: legal slaughter) in furiously hurried sentences, behind a news stand that barely provided protection. Lance wasn’t normally one to demand favours from people, but this was a special case. The government was drawing in way too close and tight for him to be comfortable anymore, and this was possibly the best time he could find to bounce.
At least, there wasn’t any better offer.
Lance rose slightly so he could squint over the top of the stand, only to drop back down with a hiss when the so-called police began to march around that side. In a few minutes, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t even have a stand left, let alone anything to hide behind.
“There’s no saving to be done here,” Lance spat. “I’m not a damsel, I just have no interest in being caught in this fucking crossfire anymore, and I know you have places everywhere where you hole up and hide while you wait for the shit storm to pass. All you have to do is show me to the nearest one and you won’t even have to worry about me again.”
Maybe. Hemera was a bit of a ‘well known’ character around these parts.
Around all of the parts.
An explosion that rattled the news stand violently where they were both crouched, and papers and magazines cascaded around them.
“You’d better hurry up, pretty boy,” Lance says. “They’ll have torn this thing to shreds in a minute, and they know you’re here somewhere.”
