A/N: the bulk of this was written in a day…ON MY PHONE! The birth of this idea will hopefully bring you chapters quicker! Hope you guys enjoy this one!
Charlotte quietly shut the door, closed her eyes and pictured the scene behind the door. Myka stood by, confused, as she watched Charlotte, eyes still closed but now motioning to an invisible audience, with the occasional muttering.
"Eight, left," Charlotte whispered, finally opening her eyes. "Seven, right. Left or right? I can go either way."
"Uhm...wha...right, I guess? No, left. Left," Myka fumbled, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to.
"Alright," Charlotte continued to whisper, unfazed by Myka's uncertainty. "They have their backs to us, so take down should be fairly easy to start if we do it quickly."
"What about the others?"
With an apologetic smile at forgetting this crucial part of the plan, Charlotte pulled out her phone, sending a mass text, which read "Basement. West Wing."
"Ready?" She asked Myka, eager to get into action.
"Shouldn't we wait?" Myka said, not entirely wanting to jump into a fight so outnumbered.
"Normally, I would say yes," she answered quickly. "However, with Koychev's already obvious antsiness, we can't be sure how long he'll stay put. We can have a good number down before the rest arrive."
"Okay, I guess that makes sense," Myka answered, still hesitant, though seeing her point.
Charlotte steadied herself with a few deep breathes, rolled her neck, then slowly reopened the door. Myka quickly and quietly followed Charlotte through the door, finally taking the scene in for herself.
Somehow the men in the room had not sense their presence; most were facing a man, who she was able to identify as Koychev, giving a speech. She suddenly felt Charlotte grab her hand, folding it around her own, and then issuing a series of signs detailing her plan. Myka had to push through her astonishment that Charlotte knew a method used in secret service when silence was essential. The plan was simply put; silent takedowns, as many as possible, fight off until back up arrives. Myka subtly nodded in response, then began her subtle stalk toward the left side of the room, while Charlotte moved in the opposite direction.
Myka took a steadying breath before making her way to her first target. I muffled grunt brought her attention to the right and watched as Charlotte covered a man's mouth and nose with her hand, while simultaneously jabbing her thumb into a pressure point, instantly knocking him out. Recalling learning the very same take down her first year of training did the secret service, Myka decided to follow suit.
Against certain logic, the two women had managed to take down the bulk of the group. It was at that moment when Koychev finally took a pause in his monotonous speech, turned toward his lackeys and instead found only a small smattering of men and a pile of unconscious men with Myka and Charlotte between them. A menacing glare, followed by an enraged shout brought the attention of the rest of the men down on the two women.
"Uhm," was all Charlotte could get out before the 3 men descended on her. Myka, who rushed to help her, was faced with only two, however quite bulky guys. In this event, Myka used her shorter stature to her advantage, finding it easier to duck their blows, and deliver punches to their stomachs. After sweeping one of the guys to his feet, and elbowing the other one in the nose, Myka spared a glance at Charlotte, noticing that she was using what looked like kempo, but with a twist.
In turn, Charlotte found herself nearly in a trance. She allowed herself to completely focus on the task at hand. Though she felt some blows hitting her, she did not allow them to slow her down. Two of the guys was already passed out on the floor bleeding from a cuts to their heads and their was slowly approaching her.
"Hey handsome," Charlotte said, sweetly. "Why don't you just mosey along, I'd hate to muss up that beautiful face of yours."
"Ditto, sweet cheeks."
"Sweet cheeks? Really?"
Charlotte took a moment to deliver a mock exasperated face as he slowly lumbered in her direction. When he finally stepped into any sort of normal human range, Charlotte kept her stance, not wanting to make the first move. As predicted, the hulk took a lunge at her, which she easily side-stepped, and followed with a kick to the back of his knee. She slowly turned, taking a moment to stretch out her muscles, training her hearing on the movement of the fumbling man behind her. She heard him getting back to his feet, a sound something akin to a growl coming from him. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened to the sounds of his steps as they quickly approached her. She took a deep, low breath to center herself, and once she had the approximation of where he was, she threw her right leg back above her head, feeling the connection with his face; spun around, grabbed his swinging arm, twisting it and finally backhanding him across the face.
Myka delivered a final kick to the thugs head, successfully knocking him out and dropping him, comically, on top of his comrade. Pausing a moment to chuckle at the cartoonish appearance, Myka then turned to check on Charlotte, fairly impressed to see the young girl holding her own. She was seemingly taunting him, staying completely still, teasing the man that he would meet the same fate as the other men at her feet.
Myka had spent so much time watching Charlotte, she had failed to recall the fact that Koychev was still in the room.
"Shit!" Myka hollered as Koychev grabbed her from behind.
The yell caused Charlotte's attention to turn to Myka, allowing her to be grabbed by the man she was attempted to fight. She calmed herself enough to take note that the man wasn't guarding her legs at all. With a quick motion, she threw her leg back, and kicked him in face. Once her arms were free, she elbowed him in the gut, then used his hunched frame to flip herself over him and on to his shoulders.
"Get off of him," a deep Russian accent pulled her gaze upward. "Or she will die." Her gaze falling upon Koychev holding a gun to Myka's temple.
"Get the HELL away from my mother," Charlotte said, her voice low and her eyes dark.
She watched as he pulled the trigger, but heard the insignificant click of cocking an empty gun. She turned her eyes to Myka, receiving a small nod, confirming what she heard. She also saw the unmistakeable confusion and shock caused by her previous statement.
"Wrong move, Koychev," Charlotte whispered. She then threw herself back, using the man's shock, and the strength in her legs caused by hours upon hours of physical training to bring the man flipping back with her. They both landed on the floor with a thud, Charlotte grunting as her knees cracked against the concrete. In one quick move, she pulled her gun from the back holster and fired two shots at Koychev.
The bullets flew past Myka, with such closeness, she could feel the breeze as the shot past her. She let out a breath of air as Koychev fell to the ground with a groan.
Myka bent at her knees, catching her breath before throwing a questioning glance at Charlotte. "MOTHER?"
"Uhm...yeah...about that. Could you not-" Charlotte began to mumble, then cut off by the door flying open.
"Guys! We're here to hhhheeelp..." Pete trailed off, finally noticing the room.
"Stealthy, Pete." Myka mumbled, shooting Charlotte a "this is not over look."
"Yeah, sorry," Pete answered, strolling into the room. "Adrenaline rush."
Just then, the rest of the team showed up; Claudia bringing up the rear.
"Whoa, what happened here?" She said, doing a slow turn to take in the state of the room.
"It turns out," Myka answered, straightening herself, pulling the neck of Koychev's shirt with her. "Our little one here is quite the fighter. And the shot."
"Well done," HG said, sending Charlotte a genuine smile.
"Thanks," she answered, motioning Claudia to help her up, after failing to do so herself. "We're not quite done. We still need to question that one about the lyre."
"Let HG and Steve do it," Myka said, passing the collar to HG. "Let me take a look at you."
Myka helped a wobbly Charlotte over to a chair on the opposite side of the room, while HG and Steve questioned Koychev and Pete and Claudia searched the room.
The two sat in silence while Myka checked movement and reflexes, without causing anymore pain than she was already in. The left knee seemed to check out fine, but Myka did not like the deep gasp of pain coupled with the tears in Charlotte's eyes when she lifted her right leg.
"Let's roll these jeans up, and take a look shall we," Myka said, mainly as a formality as she was rolling up her jeans. "We're going to have a serious discussion about what you said earlier."
"Would you believe me if I said it was just a simple case of mistaken identity?"
Myka offered her her best no nonsense face.
"Uhm...Freudian slip?"
Myka's face didn't move in the slightest bit.
"Yeah, okay." Charlotte mumbled, trying to keep a passive face, but hissing in pain when Myka was forced to pull the jeans over her injured knees.
As she suspected, the left knee held only minor cuts, but the right had already swelled to twice it's size, decorated in deep purple bruises.
"Ooh, ouch," Myka said as she inspected the knee. "It doesn't feel dislocated, but the knee cap may be broken, we need to immobilize it. Pete?"
"Yeah, Mykes?" He answered, significantly closer than he anticipated.
"How much do you like your flannel shirt?"
"It keeps the cold out, but it's not like my soulmate, or anything."
"Good," Myka said, rolling her eyes at his unnecessary exaggeration. "I need the sleeve."
Working together, they pulled the sleeve from the seams; pete then held Charlotte's leg up, while Myka tied the sleeve around her leg. By the time they were done, Charlotte was nearly sobbing and on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Hey," Myka said, soothingly while lightly stroking her arm. "You're okay, just breathe. Pete, this is bad. We gotta get her to a hospital."
"No," Charlotte choked out. "We need to get the lyre to the warehouse. I can deal with it. Get me ice and some drugs."
"Are you sure," Myka asked, only to be met with a stern facial expression with could rival her own. She took another moment to decide whether or not to override her decision. Seeing the same dedication she felt for the job, she turned to find HG, hold the kneeling position to keep Charlotte's knee still. "How's it comin, Helena?"
"We got it. Seems it doesn't take much to make Koyhev here crack," she said with a surprisingly small amount of cockiness added.
"The bullet wounds helped a bit," Steve added quietly.
"No, I can walk," Charlotte protested when Pete moved to pick her up.
"Sorry, kiddo," Myka said, interceding. "I'm vetoing this one."
With a slightly exaggerated sigh, Charlotte nodded her consent to Pete, then allowed herself to relax in his arms.
"So," Pete said, gesturing to her knee with his chin. "How'd you manage this?"
"I jumped on this guy's shoulders," she said matter-of-factly, though suddenly exhausted. "And flipped him over me, with my legs…I just haven't practiced on concrete."
A whispered "badass," was the last thing Charlotte heard as she drifted off into sleep with a light smile on her face.
A/N 2.0: This is kind of the end of the fighty action, and we will be traipsing more into fluffiness and some sexeh times!