The man stands by one of the windows, and continues looking out at the street below.
"He'll be here soon." he mutters, more to himself than 2D. The Keyboardist looks up and over at him puzzled.
"Wha? Who?" he asks, trying to shake the fog from his brain. The man turns from the window and looks hard at the young man. A little annoyed that his captor has woken from his daze.
"The Pope. Who do ya fink?" he snarls, rolling his eyes. 2D shrugs and looks down at his lap again.
"Oh..." he responds into his chest. "Is he a friend to?" he continues. Thinking it was someone s nickname, and not the actual Pope, the man was referring to. The mans mouth drops open and he blinks hard at the young man. Shaking his head, and not quite believing what he just heard. He squints at him, trying to work out if the guy was joking or not. Seeing that 2D is quite serious, he turns away, and appeals to the ceiling.
"I certainly can pick 'em." he moans, then snarls angrily at 2D. "Shudduuup!" he snaps and turns back to the window.
"Oh, OK." 2D replies and decides it's probably best to zone out again.
Murdoc arrives at the estate, and slows the car. He carefully drives down the streets, looking for the building. Checking the address of each one. Finally he finds the one he'd written down, on the piece of paper. Parking the car a short distance away. He shuts off the engine and leaps out. He turns his head, and looks up at the building, while walking to the back seat. Studying the windows he can see carefully, for any signs of life. Not seeing any movement, he turns his attention back to the car, reaching down to the floor behind the drivers seat. Opening the bag, he pulls out a hand gun. And shoving it into his belt, grabs his machete with the other hand. He then lifts the bag from the car, and walks briskly towards the abandoned building. Still muttering a long string of swear words, under his breath. The man spots him and smiles.
"He's heya!" he snaps, jolting 2D back to reality again. And races back to the arm chair for his rifle.
"Aww. I woz happy den." 2D complains, looking up and seeing the man grab the rifle and head to the door. "Who's heya?" he asks nervously.
"Wha?" splutters the man skidding to a halt across the floor, and almost falling over. Frustrated he raises his rifle and aims it directly at 2Ds head. "Look! If ya don't shuddup. I'm gunna ventilate yer head! Got it!?" he snarls, gritting his teeth. 2D pulls as far away as he can. Hiding his face and shutting his eyes tightly.
"Yeah, OK! OK!" the Keyboardist squeaks in panic. The man grunts, before tearing open the door, and leaving 2D in the room alone. The keyboardist listens for a moment, before struggling with the ropes again. "Pillock." he mutters, finally freeing an arm. Years of being tied up and gagged by Murdoc, having finally paid off. He unties the other ropes and stands up, shaking off the pins and needles. He makes a rude two fingered gesture in the mans general direction, then takes off in search of another way out.
Murdoc wrenches the warehouse door open, and carefully looks inside. Feeling it's safe, he steps in and looks around. Walking further inside, he carefully picks a path through the rubble and debris on the floor. He rounds a corner and sees a large wooden crate in the middle of the floor. Remembering this is where he is suppose to put the bag, he stops and surveys the surroundings. Knowing for sure it's just got to be an ambush.
Above him, in the shadows, the man aims his rifle and goes to pull the trigger. Murdoc suddenly disappears behind a pillar, causing the man to swear under his breath, and run his tongue across his dry lips. A bead of sweat, trickles down his cheek, and the man wipes at it with his wrist. He shifts his weight and waits for the Bassist to reappear. A noise echoes in the shadows, and the man panics, firing at it. Another shot rings out and the wall next to the mans ear explodes, making him yelp, and drop to the floor and out of sight.
"Bastard! Ya missed!" he mocks, as he slides back across the dusty floor. Placing himself half way across the threshold of a doorway behind him. Murdoc freezes and slits his eyes. He'd thought he'd recognized the voice on the phone, and now he knows for sure.
"Hannibal, ya old fossil! You still alive then?" he calls out, pressing his back against the pillar out of shot of the older man. He quickly searches for more cover, waiting for a reply.
"Ah nads, ya guessed! How are ya little brudder?" the older man answers with a chuckle. Sliding forwards again, and looking through the railing at the pillar. Murdoc sneers, but can't help chuckling himself.
"Oh, I'm good!" he answers, then dive rolls behind an overturned table. Another shot rings out, followed by silence.
"Are ya dead yet?" Hannibal asks, hoping for more silence.
"Nope!" Murdoc replies. "Yer a crap shot!" he adds, putting his head up quickly, looking around and darting it back down again.
"Only coz yer a crap target!" Hannibal grumbles back. "If ya stand up and let me shoot ya a bit. I might be able to remedy that?" he adds and feeling safe where he is, looks away and grabs a cigarette from his jacket pocket.
"Yeah right, as if! Oi! Weren't you in jail?" the Bassist calls out, trying to distract the psychotic man with conversation.
"Yep!" Hannibal calls back, grabbing his lighter. "Escaped! That's why I want that money." he adds, as he lights his cigarette.
"RRRReally?" Murdoc slurs with a smile, hearing the click of his brothers lighter. He takes the opportunity to take another look around, to find a way up to where his brother is hiding.
"Yep!" Hannibal answers, and goes back to looking between the rails to Murdocs table far below.
"Then what?" Murdoc asks, keeping the conversation going, while he runs through the route he's forming in his mind.
"Rio!" Hannibal calls back. "Right after I kill you! Ya little freak!" he adds, firing off a shot at Murdocs table, just for emphasis. Murdoc ducks instinctively.
"Awww. That's not very nice." Murdoc jokes. "Why would ya wanna go do a mean thing like that? Heh, heh." The Bassist chuckles. Amused, Hannibal chuckles back.
"Yer weird!" he snaps. "Why else? Ahh, call it sibling rivalry." he smirks. Murdoc chuckles again, but isn't fooled by his brothers answer. He's always known that his success with Gorillaz, made his brother jealous. And this was the reason the insane man was doing this now. He smiles and decides to push Hannibals buttons.
"OK! Buuut? If ya wanna BE successful?! Then yer gunna haffta start shootin' straight. Coz right now. A blind epileptic moose, in the throws of a grand-mal seizure, could shoot straighter than you!" Murdocs table is suddenly peppered with a hail of bullets, as an enraged Hannibal takes offence. Murdoc ducks and chuckles with great amusement, knowing he's well and truly hit a nerve with the psychotic older man.
The shooting stops, and the noise is replaced by Hannibals hacking cough. The older man, his throat irritated by the smoke and the dust, struggles to bring it under control. Murdoc seizes the opportunity, and quickly moves into the shadows, making his way to the broken stairway. That leads directly up to where his brother is hiding. The coughing fit subsided, Hannibal clears his throat.
"Allo?" he calls down to Murdocs table. "Ya still there?" Silence follows, and Hannibal bravely gets to his feet. Looking over the railing, to the bullet hole riddled table down below. He smiles broadly.
"HA! Take that ya freak! Now, who's the successful one?" he shouts, punching the air and doing a celebratory dance of joy. A shot rings out, and Hannibal stops dead. He looks down at his stomach, watching in horror and pain. As his shirt is stained red with his blood. He clutches at it in confusion and disbelief, then looks over at the stairwell. There in the shadows, two glowing eyes move closer and closer. A distinct shape looms out of the darkness. Murdoc, with a hideous smile spread wide across the evil Bassists face.
Hannibal lifts the rifle weakly, but all the strength leaves him, and he drops to the floor.
"Heh, heh. Gotcha!" Murdoc growls, stepping forwards and taking the gun from his brother. Hannibal looks up at Murdoc, and grimaces in fear.
"Yer not me little brudder no more, are ya?" he whimpers, lifting his arm in defence as Murdoc stands over him and raises the machete.