30
Red was not a happy Irishman. But he agreed to Poni's plan anyway. "Only problem here's th' accent," he muttered. "I don't do American accents." "The program'll mask the voice too." Salvo responded, tapping away at her console.
"Good, I'm glad y' thought ahead. Or Poni did. Whoever it was who thought that up." Red sighed. "And hopefully Assassin Kitty Bastet won't inconveniently manifest herself." "Which is why I have Marcus keepin' her on a tight leash." Poni responded.
Red looked admiring. "You thought of ev'rything, gel."
"Pretty much." Poni replied. "How we doin' on time?"
Red looked at the clock. "Almost time." He turned his eyes on Pyre. "What?" She asked, a little irritable. "Nothing," he replied easily, offering her a sheepish grin.
"Do you not think I can pull it off?"
"I think you'll pull it off jus' fine. It's me I'm worried 'bout. I'm no actor," he answered honestly. "Yer the only guy, so stop yer fussin'" Poni scolded. He grinned at her. "As ye wish, Master o' My Life." Salvo tapped the final line of code. "It's ready." Poni smirked. "Then let's go."
As he was jacked in, Red was muttering Hail Mary after Hail Mary.
Poni only smirked, outward confidence holding inward as well.
Red looked at himself. "I'm short," he said flatly. Poni poked the cat-ears. "You've no room to complain." He grinned at her. "I'm short, I'm scrawny, and I won't have a pack of fangirls randomly... what was the word, glomp? Glomp me."
"You shouldn't be the one complainin' about fangirls. Fanboys are much smellier."
"Never met one," Red grinned. "Thieves don't hang out with fanboys."
Pyre appeared next to them, patting her side to make sure she had her trademarked sawed-off shotgun. "Sorry guys, you have to go in with only the barest weapons under that skin."
Red sighed. "I feel naked without my SMGs."
"Would you stop whining?" Poni growled. "I swear, you haven't stopped complaining since I told you the plan."
Recognising her tone, he shut up. A wise decision.
"Now." Poni replied. "Let's go."
***
Sekhmet was not a happy kitty. She understood that she wasn't to go out, and she herself had handed Marcus the cell phone, but Bastet was clawing for release and Sekhmet herself didn't like being stuck inside.
"Is something wrong, love?" Marcus asked her at length
"Many things, all stemming from the bitch inside me," she said bitterly.
Marcus rose from his seat and hugged Sekhmet. "I am sorry you must stay inside. Should I get Seraph?" Sekhmet blinked. "Seraph? Why Seraph?" She was fond of the Chinese program, certainly.... "You have not noticed? His proximity tends to wane Bastet's influence."
Sekhmet blinked several times, then she ran a mental check on herself. "Source... you're right! How did I miss that?"
"Perhaps it was hidden from you."
"Hidden?" Sekhmet's blue eyes narrowed as her ears flattened against her skull. "Bastet," she hissed angrily. He hugged her once more. "It will be alright, love. You now know." She sighed and hugged him back. "I wish I'd never agreed to this makeover," she whispered.
"I wish I'd never agreed to work for the Merovingian."
"And if wishes were fishes, we'd all ride horses."
He gave her an odd look.
"It's a human saying," she said shyly. "I probably messed it up." He smiled. "It's darling." She purred happily and rubbed her cheek against his chest. He held her closer. Sekhmet purred again and kissed his cheek, pushing her recent vow to the back of her mind, as well as Bastet's nagging. "Are you alright, or do I need to find Seraph?"
"I'm fine," she assured her vampiric love with another kiss. He kissed her back, careful with his fangs. Sekhmet slid her arms around his waist, purring, kissing him all the while. I love you, Marcus... and I'll never let him get you. Ever.
***
Valkyrie trailed slowly behind her brothers as they headed down to where the winged rebel was being kept. She was in pain, and she was thoroughly miserable. But she wasn't going to leave again. She hoped. Hopefully they'd finish punishing her at some point...?
The Twins phased through the door, paying no attention to Rafe and headed straight for Angel, unfastening his bonds and putting him in shackles. Archangel actually did pale when he saw who had their hands on him, but he remained silent. Rafe simply got out of their way, looking curiously at their little sister. She looked like he had after they'd gotten through with him. Odd that they'd be so protective, and then so cruel to her.
The Twins roughly began to drag Archangel from the room, straight up the stairs faster than the formerly bedridden rogue could walk. He tried keeping up, but failed miserably, until something caught hold of his ankles, lifting them off the ground so he wouldn't receive further injury. Turning his head, he saw another albino who strongly resembled the two carrying him, except this one was female and didn't keep her hair in dreadlocks.
Two came to a random door and inserted the key, tossing Archangel inside. The room was completely full of clothing, most of which formal wear. "Get dressed in something nice, or else we'll lose our temper." The door shut behind him.
It took Archangel awhile to regain his footing, and another while to find something that would fit him. He finally settled on a black suit, but had difficulty clothing his torso - the wings got in the way. A straight razor was slipped under the doorway.
Rolling his eyes, he slit the shirt and jacket in two places so the wings would fit, cursing the bulky things every step of the way. When he finished, he tucked the razor inside the jacket. He wasn't stupid enough to use it on the Twins, but he liked having a weapon. He made for the door, stumbled, caught himself, and attempted to walk out with some of his dignity intact.
Instead, the wings clipped the doorway, earning a startled yelp from him and a giggle from the girl. One shot the girl a disapproving look. The twins then both grabbed the young man and began to haul him towards another door, pulling another key out. Seeing the downcast expression on her face, Archangel winked impudently at her, then yelped again as the right wing clipped the wall.
Two smirked wilily as one opened another door, leading the group into the main kitchen of the restaurant. They quickly pulled him through, although they moved in such a fashion that Angel's wings were a bit too close to rapidly heating cooking oil as it popped. This time, all they got was a wince. Apparently, he knew they'd done that on purpose.
Once they were in the actual "public" section of the restaurant, The twins were much more careful and courteous with Archangel--no doubt, simply to avoid suspicion. His right wing was now itching like hell. Fortunately, the coppertops didn't see the wings, though the assorted programs guarding the Merovingian arched eyebrows, snickered, or in Tiger's case muttered, "Since when did James Bond get wings?"
"Since when was James Bond a small Asian man, moron?" Pyre remarked as she stepped into the room, yellow PVC trench coat in all its shiny splendour, Marcus and Sekhmet in tow.
Tiger, an Asian himself, scowled at her and considered asking the Merovingian for permission to drain her of blood. He took a second look at her and decided he didn't feel like being beaten to a pulp.
"Where's the frog-eater? Let's do this thing quick-like," Pyre said, annoyed.
"Zere is no need to resort to childish insults, is zere, Pyre?" the Merovingian remarked as he strode to his usual spot at the table. "There is always a need to result to childish insults. How we doing this?" Pyre replied casually. "You give me what I want, zen I give you what you want," he answered.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"'Ow do you know I won't let ze Twins kill him in front of you?"
"Because I have a shotgun and you're vaguely in front of me." She retorted. "I like to refer to it as kidnapper's insurance."
The Merovingian arched an eyebrow. "I believe I specifically mentioned 'no weapons' as one of ze terms."
"Judging by the drag in your goons' right shoulder jackets, I don't think either of us played fair. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll toss away the shotgun." Pyre sighed. Of course, she didn't say which shotgun.
A muscle under his left eye twitched. "Just 'and over ze programs. I 'ave no use for votre ange."
"Alright. But you hand over Archangel at the same time. They meet in the middle."
That muscle was twitching again. The Merovingian didn't much like her. "Very well," he replied, nodding to the Twins. Pyre nodded to Marcus and Sekhmet. The two programs walked forward as Archangel was shoved towards them. "Oh, I have one more thing to say." Pyre called as the two groups met in the middle.
"And zat would be?"
"NOW!" Pyre called out, throwing a combat shotgun and katana in a bundle to Archangel, diving to the side in the same motion with her sawed-off shotgun and pumping silver buckshot into a pair of the Merovingian's lackeys.
The pair, both of them werewolves, went down hard; Tiger leapt over the table to get between the Merovingian and the rebels as Archangel caught his favoured weapon and passed the shotgun to "Sekhmet".
Sekhmet blurred and disappeared in a flash of code, revealing Epona, shotgun pumping at another pair of lackeys. "Now that ain't nice," Marcus growled as he changed into Red. He reached out at random and grabbed an armed lackey. "S'cuse me," he said as he appropriated the program's SMG then snapped its neck, taking it out of the fight. He then levelled the weapon at Tiger and let loose, throwing the vampire into the Frenchman. Tiger coughed blood but got his boss out of the way, then lunged at Red.
Pyre met the vamp with another shot from her shotgun, throwing him back in the wall again. "Some undead never learn." Tiger spat blood, glaring at her through his sunglasses. By now, the coppertops had fled in a panic. Archangel's white wings presented a nice, big target, so he was spending a lot of his time rendering the guns useless by cutting the barrels completely off. Red, on the other hand, was firing indiscriminately at the thugs. When he ran out of bullets, he shrugged, dropped the SMG, and appropriated another one in the same manner as he had the first.
Poni got an odd grin on her face and walked straight for the twins. A smallish albino girl got in the way, a determined look on her frightened face. Poni kept the odd look on her face. "Catch." The woman threw the empty shotgun at the girl and pulled both of her pistols. She ducked under the gun and lunged for Poni, razor out, ready to phase if necessary. Both of her guns pointed up. "Don't move, girly, an' don't dodge either, if you know what's good for everyone in this room."
Valkyrie blinked.
"Right behind ya is one of the main gas lines in this building. I studied the plans before plannin' this mission. The bullets in these guns're armour piercing incendiary. You do the math."
Her eyes widened as she realised that Poni was right. "Now." The captain said loud enough for the whole room to hear. "We're gonna walk outta that door, an' unless you want to be scraped off the walls, you're gonna let us go."
Tiger had risen to his feet, gun held in a slightly unsteady hand. "And what happens when I shoot you first?" Pyre reached into her coat and held out a grenade. "I happen." Tiger snarled.
"Y' understand, Frenchie?" Poni called to the Merovingian, oddly calm. "I understand perfectly," he said bitterly. "Stand down, Tiger." The vampire hesitated, then opened his hand and let his pistol fall.
Poni smirked and motioned for Red and Archangel to leave. The two men exited, smirking; Archangel yelped as his wings again clipped the doorway. Poni and Pyre then started to fall back. Tiger's eyes were locked on Pyre as the women left, his body language plainly stating that they would meet again. "This isn't the end, you realize," the Merovingian called out. "I have minions everywhere." "Indeed." Epona replied. "And you'd be wise to keep 'em away from the crew of the Zodiac." Then they too disappeared out the door.