"Everybody's coms are in?" Parker asked. There were six affirmations. "And Eliot is not within arms reach of Sterling?"
"Unfortunately," Eliot said.
"And Eliot is not currently strangling Quinn?" Parker checked.
"My wind pipes are clear," Quinn beamed.
"Sterling, what do we have?" Parker asked.
"If snipers were cockroaches, this place would be infested," Sterling quipped.
"Eliot, Jamie, Tara, Quinn, how are we with detonators?"
"Set," four voices answered.
"I kinda feel bad about destroying a church," Parker mused.
"The building's pretty much condemned. We're kind of doing a public service," Hardison assured her.
"That's nice of us," Parker said, feeling comforted.
"Wait a minute, you have me perched on the rafters of a condemned building?!" Sterling spat incredulously.
"We climbed through this thing to set detonators. Shut up, you big baby," Raelyn dismissed.
"Alright, places everyone," Sophie directed with a touch of exasperation.
Sophie's acting students milled in, posing as wedding attendees. Mixed in were obvious hitters. The minister appeared next. Noises of recognition came from Sterling, Sophie, Nate, Eliot, and Hardison. "Parker...is that your dad?"
"Yeah. Glad you made it, Dad," Parker said.
"Did you honestly think I'd miss my daughter's wedding? Especially with this many hired guns invited?" Archie questioned.
"You knew about this?" Hardison asked.
"I told you I had the minister covered," Parker defended.
"Hardison, go," Sophie pressed.
Hardison took his place near Archie, who smiled at him. Eliot and Raelyn entered from opposite sides of the room, marching in sync towards the aisle. They were followed by Nate and Sophie then Quinn and Tara. Then Parker appeared at the end of the aisle. There were gasps from everyone. She was in a puffy, white, princessy, very unlike Parker dress. But she was smiling.
"I love that woman," Hardison said to himself, but everyone heard it on the coms.
"I love you too," Parker whispered. She made it to the other end of the aisle and couldn't help hugging Archie.
He squeezed her. "I almost forgot this was a setup," he breathed, barely audible.
They started the standard vows, vows Parker and Hardison would never really make. "Weapons are being aimed," Sterling warned quietly.
"Everybody hold formation a little longer," Eliot instructed quietly.
"Sterling, make your way to your exit," Nate requested.
They began exchanging the rings, and there was an all-too-familiar metallic click. "Now!" Repelling lines came rolling out of the drapery. Raelyn took the back of Parker's dress and tore away the facade, revealing a white cat suit underneath a harness. As the puffy dress pooled around her legs, bullets went through it.
"Parker!" Hardison cried as Raelyn stepped between Parker and the pews. She clipped the line to Parker, and Parker flew into the air. The first volley of detonators went off, shaking the rafters. The false wedding attendees, safe in their Kevlar, fled tactically. Hardison tore of his jacket, revealing his own harness. Eliot clipped a repelling cord to him, and he soared upwards. Sophie and Tara clipped their own cords to their harnesses, discreetly under their dresses. Nate clipped his cord to the harness underneath his jacket. The three of them disappeared to safety. Quinn clipped his cord to his harness as a bullet ricocheted off a statue next to Raelyn's head. She flinched, and she and Eliot made concerned eye contact. They nodded. She glanced at Quinn and tilted her chin up, silently telling him to make his escape.
The heavy blades of a helicopter were heard outside. The bullets increased in frequency. Raelyn pulled her harness up as it was hidden in the fold of her belt. She clipped the cord on and looked towards Eliot. He waited until he saw her secure start securing his own rig. She reached up to yank the cord and propel herself up, and a bullet shot through her wrist.
"FUCK!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, losing her grip.
Eliot was already halfway up. When he assessed that it wasn't a deadly shot, he called back, "You're in church! Watch your mouth!"
"FUCK YOU!" was her witty retort.
"HEY!"
"SHUT UP!"
"GET YOUR ASS UP HERE!"
She yanked the cord with her uninjured hand and repelled upwards. A second volley of detonators. The first had opened a hole in the roof above which was large military chopper commanded by Vance. Quinn was making his way in and pulling a lot of the rigging through the ceiling into the helicopter. As Raelyn pulled herself through the hole in the roof, struggling one-handed, Eliot pulled her into a bear-hug-type hold and hauled her in reach of Vance who pulled her in by her uninjured arm and her waist. Raelyn immediately turned around and took a fistful of the front of Eliot's shirt and started pulling him in with Vance's help. Once Eliot got his footing, Vance directed the helicopter to go. That is when the church imploded from the final volley of detonators.
Raelyn started taking a headcount. "No one else is hurt?"
"No, you're the only dumbass that got yourself shot!" Eliot snapped.
"THIS IS WHY I HATE WORKING WITH YOU!" she roared back. She stumbled, and at first she thought it was just the movement of the helicopter. But the shifting feeling didn't stop when she took a seat. "Something's wrong," she observed.
"Well, yeah, there's a hole in your arm," Eliot quipped as he was working on untangling the rigging, not looking at her.
She yanked at his shirt. "No, there's something wrong!" she insisted. He looked back at her, and she bared her arm, having ripped the sleeve from the dress. His eyes widened with concern. The wound was was incredibly swollen, and most of her forearm was disgustingly discolored. The wound was fresh, but the flesh looked like it was bruised days before. Eliot glanced at Sterling, trying to keep his emotions at bay.
"I gotta do somethin' weird, alright?" he warned. She nodded. He took her arm and flicked his tongue in the seeping blood of the wound.
Hardison screamed and flailed in disgust. "What the hell?!"
After squishing the blood around in his mouth, Eliot spat it out. "Cherokee bullet," he commented.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Raelyn asked, trying to ignore a dizzy spell.
"It's not the most accurate term, but a lot of native tribes put poison on their arrows so that when the fired, it didn't matter where the arrow struck, as long as it did. It's recently become a practice with gun-toting hitters so that the shot doesn't have to be fatal...to be deadly." Eliot made eye contact with Raelyn just long enough to watch her steel herself against the implications of his words.
"I'm poisoned," she said, nausea tainting her voice.
