Arnold could hear them throwing punches at Gerald, his friend groaning in pain with all the hits he was getting. Gerald shouldn't have been here. It was all his fault. Gerald was supposed to be at his elaborate mansion in southern California, enjoying his vacation before the NBA scheduled his first game.
"Give us the password, Short." a man with a heavy Russian accent demanded for what must have been the hundredth time. Arnold shook his head defiantly. He was in no position to do so, his best friend being beaten senseless and himself with a black bag over his head to cloud his vision, hands bound tightly behind his back.
One of the men shouted something in Russian and his outraged cry was followed by a series of groans and thuds of a scuffle. Arnold wished he could have seen what happened, but when silence fell, he was astounded when the bag was pulled off his head and a beautiful woman with auburn hair clad in black leather, working the rope off of his wrists. "Arnold Short?" She asked with a posh British accent. He replied with a brief nod, unable to muster anything else. "I'm Ryan James. I'll be your rescuer today."
Relief rushed through him when she freed his hands and moved to untie Gerald, "How many men do you have with you?"
"I have two girlfriends upstairs." She answered, pulling Gerald's gag out of his mouth.
Arnold stared at her, mouth slightly agape. She couldn't have been serious! "They have at least fifty armed men." Arnold replied, standing on unsteady legs. He'd been tied up for two days, at least he was sure it was two days.
She smiled slightly, "I know, it hardly seems fair." Without another word, she seized Arnold's arm and let Gerald rest against her before dashing up the stairs. Arnold was astounded that she had so much energy, just realizing the men she had laid to waste. She was impressive, able to take on so many men, but the odds were still out of their favor, even if he friends were as skilled as her. Ryan pushed on the doors above, disheartened when they didn't open. She put her finger to her ear, activating a communication device Arnold and Gerald hadn't seen. "PhD, we gotta get out of here."
Arnold and Gerald glanced at each other, dubious of the codename. Suddenly, the wood began to creek and Arnold and Gerald only barely made it out of the way before the doors broke completely, a fat, unconscious Russian and a girl in a green military uniform fell through. Ryan and, who Arnold and Gerald could only assume was PhD, peeked over the broken entrance before cautiously leading the young men towards the exit. And they'd almost made it to the door, but their position was compromised.
"Great." Gerald said in a strangled tone, clinging to PhD, unable to walk on his own. "What now?"
"Plan B." The girl whispered to him. Before Arnold and Gerald could utter a word Ryan and the other girl had jumped out the window with them in tow. Arnold and Gerald shouted as they tumbled down the mountain alongside the girls before settling at the road below. "You know," Ryan started as she picked Arnold up out of the snow, "Just one time, I'd like to just walk out of a bar."
Arnold stared at her as she pulled him along, curious as to what other forms of madness these girls managed to wrap themselves into. This was crazy. They were in the middle of nowhere. They didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting away from the men on their heels.
"Where's H.G.?" Ryan shouted to PhD.
The girl stopped and stared back at the building they had just leaped out of, "She must still be inside!" She answered, horrified.
Ryan threw climbed onto a tanker and opened the hatch, "She'll be fine! We have to get them out of here!" The young Asian woman was about to protest, but with a loud groan she jumped up onto the tanker and heaved Gerald onto the tank, roughing passing him over to Ryan, who made sure he was secure inside the metal beast.
"Who are you girls?" Arnold shouted as PhD helped him up.
She smiled at him and only gave one word as an answer. "Angels"
After Arnold and Gerald were inside the tank Ryan jumped in, followed by PhD. Ryan threw open a panel as her friend began flipping switches. Nothing happened until Ryan succeeded in hotwiring the machine. Then, they were off.
"I don't mean to a pessimist, but those guys have enough firepower to level this tank." Arnold said as he stumbled to the Ryan.
She smiled over her shoulder at him, "You really underestimate us."
Gerald struggled as PhD attached him to a stretcher, but when she activated one his pressure points, rendering him unconscious, he stilled.
"Hey!" Arnold shouted outraged, stumbling over to his friend.
"He'll be fine. The last thing we need is a panicking client." Ryan reassured him. She shoved something onto steering mechanism before grabbing Arnold's shirt and pulling him beside her and PhD. The Asian girl hit a trigger on a remote and Arnold jumped when the floor under them jolted, beginning to move. Ryan held onto him and they rolled away before the tank could flatten them. Arnold stared befuddled after the iron beast, astounded that it was still moving. Everything was a blur and Arnold didn't even noticed that they had moved until Ryan slipped him into a parka and strapped a pair of goggles onto his face.
"What's going on?" he shouted over the whipping wind.
Ryan smiled as she secured her own goggles, "The powder is bitching!" she exclaimed.
Before Arnold could question her words he was certain he felt the ground whip out under him. He found the edges of the toboggan he just realized he was sitting on. He didn't realize he was screaming until his throat began to bother him. He looked over and stared in shock as the PhD skied along side him, Gerald still blissfully unconscious on the stretcher. He looked ahead, astounded to find that he was being dragged behind Ryan, who was on a snowboard instead of skis.
A blast from above caught their attention and he could hear Ryan and PhD laughing. The tank they had been in must have been destroyed. He was starting to believe that they were angels. No one could be that beautiful and do things so amazing with such ease.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Man, this is crazy." Gerald said as he and Arnold rushed to the jet the girls had run into, "I mean, who are these chicks? I don't trust them."
"Gerald, they just saved us from getting our asses killed." Arnold reminded his friend gently as they climbed into the jet.
Gerald bumped into PhD in his haste to get out of the open. "Oh…uh…sorry, PhD."
She scrutinized him uncertainly before laughing, "Oh how rude of me, I'm Phoebe Heyerdahl." She introduced herself, extending her hand to him. "And you're Mr. Martian Johansson."
Gerald cleared his throat, "That's actually just my, uh…stage name. I'm actually Gerald, to those who actually know me. I go by Martian for my old man."
She securitized him, leaning in and taking in his features before snapping her fingers, "You went to P.S. 118 in Hillwood!"
Gerald's mouth fell open, "You were the little Asian girl that hung around Helga Pataki!"
Phoebe nodded, despite the bite in the words. "Yeah."
"Man, I hated that chick." Gerald continued, blissfully unaware of the emotional bother he was putting Phoebe through.
"Gerald," Arnold said, lowly, a hint of diplomacy in his voice, "Hate's a pretty strong word. Besides, Helga wasn't all that bad. Sure, she was rough around the edges, but she could be really…sweet."
Gerald scoffed, "No matter how 'sweet' she was, she was one nasty looking bully."
The cockpit of the jet opened and Phoebe and Ryan turned and grinning shouted, "Bosley!"
"Hey Angels." the middle aged, yet dapper American replied, "I see you've successfully completed another mission." Ryan and Phoebe smiled and were about to reply, but their faces dropped and Bosley's concern grew. "Oh no, what happened?"
Phoebe shook her head, reluctant to answer so Ryan bit her lip before answering, "One…one of the angels possibly went to heaven."
Bosley scrutinized the girls for a moment before, to their surprise, he burst out laughing. Phoebe and Ryan scowled at him. Before they could retaliate, he pounded on the ceiling, "Our other angel go in before you girls did. Your coms must have been out of range." Phoebe and Ryan glanced at each other, doubting his words. "Are you done rewiring the sound system?"
As if to answer his question, the song Alone Together by Fall Out Boy started to play at a deafening level. Arnold and Gerald winced and moved to cover their ears. Before they could, Phoebe and Ryan squealed and rushed around Arnold and Gerald to tackle a tall, lean blonde onto the ground. The girls began talking amongst each other in what Arnold thought was Japanese. The man named Bosley invited them to sit, explaining that they would be ready to take off as soon as the runway cleared before he reminded the girls that it was time to fly, an almost fatherly tone in his voice.
"My turn to drive!" Phoebe squealed happily, giving the blonde another tight hug before skipping to the cockpit. Ryan climbed onto one of the white leather seats and collected a tablet and headphones before settling into her seat after shoving one of her earbuds into her ear. She occasionally swiped or tapped her screen as she nodded along to the beat of whatever she was listening to.
Gerald had just gotten comfortable when a small, round pellet zoomed through the air, nailing him right between the eyes. He watched the blonde put down the straw that had been used for the assault. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded shortly.
Arnold frowned as he studied the blonde. The more he watched her the more familiar she felt…and the more appealing.
The blonde didn't answer, but she smiled when Ryan replied, singing "I heard that you were talking shit and you didn't think that I would hear it."
Gerald gave Arnold a questioning look, but all Arnold could do was shrug in response. He had no idea what they were talking about…unless… "Helga?"
She glanced up at him from her copy of The Bell Jar, looking entirely bored, "Yeah?"
Gerald's jaw dropped, "Pataki?"
Helga rolled her eyes and shook her head, "As much as I love sappy reunions." With a pert smile she pressed a button on a nearby remote. The song Thrift Store by Mackelmore came over the sound system and with an enthusiastic squeal of approval, Phoebe started dancing in her seat, Ryan cast aside her iPod and started dancing as if she were in a club. Helga, however, shook her head and buried herself back into her book, blissfully unaware of Arnold's persistent gaze.
Yes yes I know, I have way too many unfinished fanfics to start another one, but I couldn't resist. Also I know some of you (last I checked) are kind of sick or Ryan, but there are three angels and I didn't want to make another OC. Also I couldn't really see any of the other Hillwood girls in the Charlie's Angel's biz…so yeah. Don't forget to review if you like it. I'll be updating my Zombie story next.