Okay...so if anybody did read that chapter I posted earlier...well...lets just pretend that never happened, kay? So we're just gonna redo the whole thing, kay? And if you have no idea what I'm talking about... well...just ignore this! Thanks!

OMG! I am osorry it took so long for me to upload, my life has been insanely hectic. Between chemo trips, countless hours of studying, one three day stay at the hospital for my little sister with leukimie, one trip to the ER & 12 stiches and a cast for my little brother (pogo stick+hose+eight year old=BAD) exams that made my brain die, and countless hours staring at the compurter with writers block, I acutally got some writting in!

Maximillian Nero: Yet again, thanks for the review and giving me your honost opinion on that *other* chapter... I like this one a LOT better, hope you do as well!

diavoloduchessa: Glad you like it so far! I was worried when I read the begainning of your review, I thought you might not have liked the story! I guess I was wrong! Thanks for reading by the way! Also, interesting name, there a story behinf it?

Disclaimer: I didn't own it to start with, ya really think thats changed? Also, in adition to not owning either set of moives, I also don't own It's a Wonderful Life, part of the diolouge (don't ask where I got it from...you probably don't want to know...) or Arnold Schwarzenegger (Dear Lord that's annyoing to type!).
Yeah, these actually do fit into the story...
do they make sense?
Uhh...

Okay, now that that's all done with, on to the chapter! Oh...forgot something, no, no I didn't... did I?


Previously…

Paz stared at Linus, "This Banks man knows who you are." It was a statement, not question.

"Yeah. Also, a 'hitter' has been sent after everyone." The last part was aimed at Danny and Rusty who stared at him.

"What?"

"Every member of 'Ocean's Eleven'" amusement colored Linus's tone slightly at the 'name' of the crew, which was replaced by a note of worry, "have a Russian hitter after them."

"Oh…..well shit…"


It's A Wonderful Life, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Shock

"They're taking bloody forever!" Basher complained as he glanced down at the cards in his hand. He, Frank, and the twins were playing Texas hold 'em and the rickety table in the center room of the hotel suite.

They certainly weren't alone in the room. Saul and Reuben were a mere three feet away, seated in two arm chairs exchanging stories. Yen and Livingstone were seated in front of the TV, watching It's a Wonderful Life, despite the fact that it was September. The black & white images flashed on the screen but the words were lost by the jarring cacophony of all eight men talking to each other at the same time, but Basher's comment quieted them down.

"They are taking a while…" Livingstone sounded characteristically worried, he always thought the worst.

"They're fine!" Turk chuckled, "You're just trying to distract us 'cause you're getting your British 'arse' beat!" the blonde driver looked pointedly at Basher's dwindling pile of poker chips.

"Oh? I'm not the only one losing you bloody twit!" Basher smirked at Turk's similarly diminishing collection of poker chips.

Whatever insult Turk was going respond with was cut off by a loud, forcefully knocking on the door. All of the talking dropped off sharply. The sudden silence was only interrupted by the normal city night sounds, the loudest, a car engine, speeding close to the hotel, the car seemed to pull into the parking lot and then the engine shut off.

The knocking came again and this time, the eight men exchanged glances, Danny and Rusty both had keys, and even if they had lost them, they wouldn't knock, more likely, they'd yell through the door, or go get a new key. Apprehension caused all of them to quickly but quietly back away from the door and grab anything that could be used as a weapon, not that it would do them any good, they weren't exactly karate masters.

A rough voice snapped an order from outside the door, in what the present members of Ocean's 11 guessed to be Russian and the sound of cracking wood was accompanied by the flimsy hotel door shuttering. The door shuttered again and then collapsed with a crack and wooden splinters flying everywhere.

Four scary big men sauntered into the room. Each was well over six feet and well enough muscled to make Arnold Schwarzenegger lime green with envy. The front man's flat gray eyes stared fixatedly at them, as he causally pulled out a gun with a silencer. The three other men followed in his example, each holding their own silenced gun loosely in one hand.

"Who to start with?" the front man, probably the leader, spoke slowly, his heavy Russian accent weighing down his words.

"How 'bout your mom!" Turk's insult had little effect on any of the men but they did turn towards him.

"Hmm…are you volunteering to start?" In addition to the threat, Turk suddenly found a gun point in his direction.

"How 'bout not." Everyone, the Russian included whipped towards the door to see a figure standing in the broken door frame. Before any of the members of Ocean's eleven could even process who the person was, their view was blocked by a lunge from one of the minion Russians and they stared in shock and fear, waiting to see who ever came to rescue them go down hard.

That didn't happen.

Instead, the rescuer somehow dodged the tackle and with on quick strike to the back of the man's head, knocked out his attacker. Seeing this, the two other Russian cronies lunged at their guns, only to fall to the ground, each clutching a different body part. The rescuer had grabbed the unconscious man's gun and had reacted faster than imaginable, hitting two moving targets with perfect aim within seconds of each other. The Russian leader raised his gun but he too fell to the ground, a bullet in his shoulder and thigh.

The eight men gaped at the downed attackers, than shifted their gaze to their rescuer. They then proceeded to feel their jaw drop and their minds screech to a halt.

Leaning up against the doorframe, the gun held in a loose non-threatening manner, and a slowly growing red blood stain marring his annoyingly bright pink shirt was their rescuer. As they continued to stare, he pushed off from the wall and calmly walked over to the closet conscious Russian. Without the slightest hesitation, he kicked the prone man in the temple, cleanly knocking him out. He then did the same to the other two, ignoring the eight men who were now sputtering and rubbing their eyes.

"Linus?"

Their rescuer, aka, the youngest team member aka friend aka Linus freakin' Caldwell looked over at them, then at the blood stain on his shoulder. Then in a perfectly calm, relaxed voice, as if taking down evil Russians was a daily occurrence, said,

"Well," he nonchalantly pulled back the shoulder of his shirt and revealed the white bandaged wrapped around his shoulder with a growing red stain in the middle, "I guess I tore my stitches…"


So, do you think I got everyone in character? I know this chapter is a little, ummmm... I think sillier is the right word, then the others, but I hope y'all still like it! Please review so I can crank out another chapter! I really want to get another one up quickly!

Until next time!

KebaKira
QK
(sideways ninja)