#catdemir

No plan survives first contact with the enemy. 

At this point, Alp didn’t even have a plan.  Everything was so far from what he’d anticipated that he just had to act, not think.  Rolling to his feet after making Jasper take the brunt of landing on the bridge, it just took a split second for him to see the police blockade, the Kovali car speeding toward them, and way too much empty space without cover to hope to get away on foot.  And then the truck went through the guardrail with Cat inside--Cat, who couldn’t shoot, who’d freaked out at the gunfire, who didn’t belong here--and Alp couldn’t let her die.

And he sure as hell didn’t want to die either.

So it was just instinct to take to the safest way out: off the bridge.  The bridge would provide cover; direct pursuit was unlikely; he’d trained for this; he had to reach Cat.

--And then he felt like he’d been kicked in the shoulder, and heard the crack of the pistol just before he hit the river.

He was breathing heavy. Only about six other people in the room, one of them was Cat though. So he at least knew someone here. The pain was semi-sobering for him, but he could still feel the buzz of the alcohol itching the back of his mind. He had just watched as the door had locked. He hadn’t stopped them. He felt weak, he was weak. He had failed Sera and he had failed Zephyr. He hated himself for it. He looked up from staring at the door just in time to see Cat approaching him, “Hey. So I got our drinks?” He said nodding to the one spilled and one half-empty glasses of whiskey sitting at his side on the floor.