30 Days of Sonic Prompt 29: Unlikely Duo
Media: Sonic Free Riders
Job for You, Heist for Me
"Alright, bub! I got'cha!"
Storm grimaced as Vector's boisterous voice shot through his ears. It was comparable to the alarms thundering throughout the jewelry store, somehow hitting an octave higher than the blaring bells. Storm wanted to cover his ears, but Vector had pinned his arms behind his back. With his height, Vector had the advantage, much to Storm's displeasure, and he glared over his shoulder at the detective in a pitiful show of resistance.
The heist had gone south the moment the Babylon Rogues arrived. The timing was not in their favor, even with their game plan. None of them anticipated the Chaotix to be in the store at the same time. And they were stunned by the shuriken Espio threw upon eye contact with Jet, forcing the birds to scatter with a different detective giving chase, and Storm had the misfortune to dance with Vector.
His Extreme Gear laid yards away from him. He couldn't rely on Jet or Wave rushing in to help with Espio and Charmy on their tails. Storm struggled and writhed in Vector's grasp, but the cutting noise of the alarms and the pain in muscles prevented his escape.
"So, trying to steal, huh? Too bad this place got hit by some other crooks just an hour before you three arrived," Vector jeered, keeping his grip tight around Storm's wrists.
He grunted, his face contorting in distress. "What? But we were gonna pull a smash and grab!"
"Well, if you guys came here about two hours earlier, then you could've," Vector said, shrugging, "but too bad for you."
Storm glanced at their surroundings. Glass shards littered the floor. Only a few stray rings and pearls remained scattered across the broken shelves and countertops. Swathes of red light flashed from the alarms above their heads, the other fluorescent lights flickering from their broken bulbs. Cold air pressed onto them from the vents now exposed in the ceiling, sunlight trickling in through the cracks in the roof.
He found nothing useful. He wasn't going to stoop so low and throw glass in Vector's eyes. But even if he could, he was still locked in position by Vector's vice grip. His struggling subsided, and he heaved out a weary breath, but Vector did not grant him mercy.
"You're a member of the Babylon Rogues. What did you want to steal from here?" Vector demanded. "And whatever it was, it's probably gone now. Those darn Hooligans have already hit this place."
"Like I'm gonna tell you that we were gunnin' for an ancient Babylonian artifact," Storm snapped, spitting out a laugh.
Vector blinked, surprise crossing his expression before a smirk stretched on his snout. "Oh, right, that thing. Pretty sure the Hooligans grabbed it on their way out."
Embarrassment colored Storm's cheeks a vibrant scarlet. He was never a master of communication like Jet and Wave, often being confused by wordplay. And Vector laughing in his face only cemented his humiliation, feeling lower than dirt as he glared at the remaining security camcorder taped in place in the corner of the room.
But just as he resumed struggling, Vector released Storm and nudged him forward. Storm stumbled, his shorter legs hobbling before he found his balance. He snatched his Extreme Gear, holding it like a shield as he narrowed his eyes on Vector, who set his hand to his headphones.
"Well, might as well let you go. You guys aren't gonna cause us any trouble since there's nothing left to take," he said, looking away from him. He tapped the side, an antenna jutting out from the top of his headphones. "Charmy, Espio, fall back. We taught those crooked birds a lesson. They're not gonna interrupt the investigation."
Storm gawked. Sentences formed in his head but refused to emerge. He vaguely gestured for answers, but Vector turned his back on him, the glass cracking underneath his feet as he made his way to the security camcorder.
"Gotta get that down, collect it as evidence," Vector muttered to himself, crossing his arms. He paused, then pivoted on his heels to face Storm. "You're still here?" he asked, scratching his head.
Storm mimicked Vector, still lost for words. "Uh, yeah? Yeah."
"Why?" Vector snapped his fingers, cutting Storm off before he could speak. "Actually, I'm glad you didn't leave yet. I need you to do me a favor."
Sneering, Storm crossed his arms. If the detective wanted anything from him, then his only option was refusal. He wasn't going to assist anyone who made a fool out of him, especially someone he defeated at the Second World Grand Prix.
Vector reached up, but he could not grasp the camcorder. "See that? I can't get it. I need you to use your Extreme Gear and fetch me the camera. It's one of those portable types, not the fancy ones in museums," he explained. "I'm assuming the owners were too cheap to get real security cameras."
Silence lapsed between them. They held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Disbelief washed over Storm, causing his beak to sag open. He pulled back and raised his head to the camcorder stuck to the wall with actual tape, something that seemed so unbelievably cheap that it made his brain spin on how this place could have contained a Babylonian artifact.
Although he disliked the idea of helping Vector, he felt compelled to assist. If the Hooligans had their treasure, then knowing which one snatched it would be the Hooligan getting Storm's fist to their face. Sighing, Storm tossed down his Extreme Gear and stood on it, making a show of his disdain. It levitated him to the camcorder, and he gathered it in both hands, carefully prying it off the wall, bits of tape sticking to his gloves.
"Thanks," Vector said, taking it from Storm when he landed.
"Don't mention it ever," Storm ordered, ignored as Vector flipped open the panel block.
Storm watched Vector navigate the screens to reach the playback folder. He glanced at the crocodile up and down, taking in his taller, sturdy frame. He had to admit that Vector was certainly an opponent he would have loved to tangle with again, but when Vector started the video, he snapped his attention to the screen.
"Okay, Bean tossed a bomb right at the entrance. That blew up the other camcorders and made the employees run scared for their lives. Sheesh, they should've gone with regular security cameras," Vector grumbled.
"Makes this place sound really cheap," Storm added.
"Darn right. Oh, Nack's stupid car plowed through this place to get the gems? Insurance probably isn't gonna pay for that," he joked, cracking a smile at Storm.
Storm uttered a quiet thrum of laughter. He felt like Wave would've appreciated the quip more, considering she focused on their monetary ventures. He furrowed his brows at the screen as Bean tossed another bomb, filling the room with smoke, but it was the yellow arm striking through the smog that caught his eye.
"H-hey, uh, that-that guy right there. Look at his hand," he stammered, pointing at the upper right corner of the screen. In Bark's hand was a silver pendant decorated in golden flame insignias. The mark of Babylon caught Storm's eyes, and he gasped, realizing he had found the one responsible for stealing it. "Th-that guy! That's the thief!"
"Never heard a thief callin' another fella a thief before, but I guess there's a phrase for everything," Vector said, nodding. "Okay, well, pretty simple case." He shut down the camera and held it to his chest. His eyes flicked over at Storm. "So, you guys are after the Hooligans now?"
"Yeah! No one steals what's ours." Storm smacked his knuckles together, snorting. "That belongs to our ancestors, so it belongs to us."
Vector hummed, slowly nodding. "Which means, maybe, we can get something out of this together."
Storm blinked, his confident bravado dropping for a moment. "Uh, what?"
"You Babylon Rogues want that artifact, and we Chaotix wanna catch the Hooligans. When we stop them, we just might let you guys go with the artifact." Vector lowered his voice. "Maybe. If it doesn't cost us our paycheck." He cleared his throat and offered his hand, the humming of Extreme Gear whirring and bees buzzing outside. "Win-win, right?"
Storm stared into Vector's eyes and found burning confidence that illuminated his deep orange irises. He sounded so self-assured. Storm couldn't tap into that kind of conviction unless he was on the race track, and even then, he still fumbled. But in front of him was a young man who guided his team instead of taking orders, who created plans meant to lead his friends to victory.
Vector induced jealousy and admiration from Storm, making him grasp the crocodile's hand so tightly, his knuckles cracked.
Storm smirked, narrowing his eyes as Vector matched his strength. "You gotta ask my boss first," he said, cocking his head at the door.
"Gladly," Vector said, the commotion growing louder. Shaking his head, he grumbled, "Dang it, Espio, the parking lot looks like a graveyard for your throwing stars."
Storm watched him head outside. He heard Jet and Espio engaged in an argument, quelled only by Vector's commanding presence. Sucking in a breath, Storm pressed his hand over his chest, his heart skipping a beat, and he allowed his smirk to remain etched on his beak.
He'd prove himself. Vector was only another way to do just that, even if a quieter part of him wanted to learn more about his new rival.