Note: 3rd part, and finally, I get to do something with the mobile suit so that it doesn't become a simple throw away. I'll admit, I feel that the first good chunk of this fic is a little (or very) rough, as I think I was still finding my footing. So, here's hoping that I can improve as this goes along, as I feel that there's always room for it. I'll admit, it's hard to look back on my past stuff, as I always see a 'I could've worded that better' or 'oh, what was I thinking with that'. And, while it may be a bit too soon to say, as it's still in the beginning stages. It's going to be a long story. Or stories (if I try to do different editions again). But as I said, I want this to be something people like. Not everyone, but in general, it's something that is relatively enjoyed, yet will have its own hang ups and distinction from those that inspired this. I want it to be its own thing and stand out from other cartoon-based fics. Not out of arrogance, but so that perhaps I bring something new to the table with my own take on things.
Also, I'm thinking of cross-posting this on Archive on Our Own, seeing as that seems to be the place many here are migrating to. This doesn't mean I'm going to stop uploading here, yet let's just say you can find this fic in two places.
I hope I don't sound haughty, yet that is my goal. To have this, along with my other stories, be remembered in some way.
That said, here's part 3!
Hijack Part 3
Mega Man © of Capcom
He followed from above to make himself as scarce as possible, his blue eyes following as the two vehicles drove on. Ever at that particular speed. Then, they made a turn to the left. Mega Man decided to try and cut them off from above by going over the rather large structure he was approaching, yet found that the two trucks weren't going that way. If anything, it seemed that they disappeared.
Unless…
"Rush, bring me down." Mega Man told his currently flying dog. "But keep the thrusters low." Rush gave a confirming bark and steadily lowered his 'master' downward. Down, down, down, until they were just barely hovering over the ground, a small, but passable crevice before them that they could squeeze through.
"All right." One of the figures in the shadows stated. "Load it in."
Two more opened the back of one of the large vehicles, the coveted contents heavily hidden in the shadows as they were, but still, it was there. That was all that mattered. "Bring it down." The ramp was brought down on both trucks, and immediately got to work. It wasn't in one piece, thankfully, but the boxes that the parts were contained in were still equally heavy. Hoisting them on the lifts were equally as difficult. As well as navigating around everything else that lay in there.
"Careful now, careful!"
"What do you think we're doing?!" a feminine voice hissed, her back feeling as if it were about to snap in half.
Still, they went about their task in moving the packaged pieces from the back of one truck to another. All the while minding keeping everything at as minimal a volume as possible.
"You guys sure about this?" one amongst the group questioned, everything halting in its tracks when he asked that question.
"You really have the gall to ask that now? After all it took to set this up?"
"I'm just…not wanting anyone to get hurt doing this."
"There's ALWAYS a chance that someone's going to get hurt." The woman's voice cut in. "Many people have been hurt already."
"I know. That's why I- "
"If we don't do this, if we don't take a stand now, then nothing will get better. Nothing will get the message across. And sometimes…" she loaded one of the boxes into the back of the other truck. "You can only sit by and wait on those in charge to make things right."
He was silent at that, and went on with assisting in loading up the cargo. She was right. She was always right…
"Wait." He suddenly spoke up.
"What?" another voice asked, the cargo finally loaded up, the door closed.
He couldn't exactly tell, yet there was still that lingering, gnawing feeling. That animalistic part of the human brain that was mostly ignored, but in the direst of situations. And right now, it was going off like a siren.
And its conclusion was simple.
They were being watched.
She released a heavy sigh, her hands aching and covered in grease. Ick. If she could get away with it, she'd give her Babushka an earful about this entire business, but she knew well that the old woman would have her head. Probably literally too. Yet ANOTHER fine set of clothes to go into the wash. She was beginning to regret NOT taking the opportunity to buy less blouses and more t-shirts.
Babushka was right about her choice of attire. Again. Just like how she was right about everything.
Still, despite the aches and pains she had, Kalinka Cossack (or, as Mrs. Corlett knew her, McNeil) found herself feeling somewhat…accomplished. With Mr. Corlett coming out of the hospital soon, his leg healing up and his mobility coming back (he'd have to use a crutch, he refusing to use a wheelchair), they had been getting more orders in now that the whole fiasco involving what happened downtown was over with. Sure, there was still quite a bit of damage to be taken care of, yet at least things seemed to be getting back to normal. Even if it still didn't feel like it to her.
From broken TVs to washing machines (seriously, who throws a brick in a washing machine?), she had her hands full with Coreltt's wife at the small repair shop, and yes, she was still miffed about her clothes getting covered in dirt once again, yet again, she found herself somewhat…conflicted. True, her Papa's place, her little palace in a sense, it was comfortable. But…didn't seem to be much else if she had to be honest. Sitting there, doing little else but eating and sleeping. Waiting for him to come home to her.
'I'm just a doll…'
And while she far from liked the conditions set on her by both her and this country's government, since she arrived here…she couldn't deny that, all things considered, it could've been worse. After all, it was like that robot told her, she could've not even be here right now.
Against her will, the visage of him came to her. Red helmet, grey body, and that scarf.
She wouldn't be here right now.
Him releasing her from her cage, and most recently, she somehow stuck in an ally way in his arms, as if he had literally just frozen time and scooped her up.
She wouldn't be here right now.
His damn irritating demeanor, how he mocked and insulted her. How he called her such condescending names…and he dared insult her face! She didn't resemble a bulldog in the slightest! Hmph! She shouldn't have even bothered taking care of his leg that one night!
And yet…and yet…she couldn't deny that she wouldn't be here right now, if not for…
"Hm?" the blonde, Russian girl turned her head to the side, looking as a set of blinding lights were seen, though more importantly, that they were drawing closer. Dangerously close. "Zaebis'!"
She didn't get much time to observe it, however, as a sharp tug to the back of her coat lifted her off her feet, pulling her back and out of the speeding vehicle's way.
"Move, move, move!" Theo cried out, gripping the steering wheel until his very knuckles went white. "He's coming!"
Indeed, he was.
Outside of the truck, Mega Man sat upon Rush and flew on high above, all the while delivering a call to the police on the situation taking place.
"Down near Bronx?" the voice in his audio receptor questioned.
"Yes sir!" the Blue Bomber confirmed. "I'm on their tail right now!"
"Good, keep at it and keep us posted! We'll be there as soon as we can! Over and out!" the call died, leaving the robot and his dog alone to pursue the two eighteen wheelers going down the highway below. Despite their size, they were zooming at a clearly unsafe speed, several cars and people dashing out of the way in order to not risk being hit. Yet how long this could be kept up was yet to be seen, and it was safe to assume that Mega Man and everyone else would prefer not to have a repeat of what occurred with the Mobile Suit.
The boxes loaded in the other truck, he suddenly thought. Were they…well, whatever they were, they were, as of now, stolen goods. Goods that were to be returned to their rightful owners.
Below, Theo looked in the rear-view mirror, able to see the Blue Bomber flying above him. "What are we going to do?!"
"First thing to do is remain calm!" the woman with him answered. "We're halfway there already!"
"We won't make it! Not with blue boy tailing us! And God knows he's already contacted the police!"
The woman bit her lip. Indeed, this was a predicament. Yet, from what he could see, as always, she had a plan. Raising the truck's radio up to her mouth (rather old fashioned given the age they all lived in), she spoke into it. "Time to go into 'Operation Toss out."
Note: It'll be an arduous task, and I don't know if I'll ever actually be able to do it, but I'm thinking of going back and editing/shortening some of the overly long chapters, but again, not making any promises. These shorter chapters are really something I should've done a long time ago, as it's far easier on me and allows me to work on this and other stories. Though it does give me the task to stretch it out.
Read and review please, as they are the best encouragement to get things out faster!
Thank you!
