Chapter 15: Bringing Out the Big Guns
"Ah, that felt good," Artie sighed warmly as he stepped out of the Touchy Feely massage parlor in LaFollette, another small district dominated by upscale shops, restaurants and smaller, yet presentable homes.
He was about to walk back to his Sentinel when he could hear loud chanting in the distance and decided he would check it out for shits and giggles.
"I haven't had a good laugh all day," he told himself as he rounded a corner and found himself in Arnold Square, where a small stage had been set up in front of the Arnold Monument and on it stood a short, chubby man wearing an 18th-century tricorne hat with a megaphone in hand, his messages being blasted through the megaphones attached to the top of two Rumpo vans parked at the opposite sides of the stage, a banner identifying him as a member of the 'Pissed Off Organized People Party.'
"Robert Kretchell is a lying Communist pig with four wives and twenty-seven illegitimate children!" the speaker shouted, to which his followers roared in approval, all of them carrying placards and dressed in 18th century garb similar to him.
"Hey! Hey! Ho! Ho! Walker's gotta go!" a contingent of opposing Kretchell supporters shouted from the opposite end of the spectrum, the crowd held back by riot cops sent to provide security.
In addition to the police, RCNN-13 also had a news van on the scene, where reporter Cora Ricardo was on hand to cover the developing events.
"Robert Kretchell has a secret abortion clinic set up in his basement and he eats small puppies for breakfast!" the P.O.O.P.'s speaker shouted into his megaphone as the Kretchell supporters attempted to drown him out with their repeated chanting.
"Robert Kretchell is a pedophile and dresses in his daughter's underwear! He also likes to molest farm animals in his spare time and he wants to give free education and healthcare to the poor!" the man's last comment drawing loud boos from the Walker supporters.
"Ron Walker is a decorated war veteran who loves America and if Rushmore City were a beautiful young maiden he would be asking for its hand in marriage!" the speaker shouted, "Walker will not tax the wealthy! Ron Walker is tough on street musicians disturbing the peace! Ron Walker will stand up to gays and lesbians attempting to convert your children to their foul sacrilegious ways! Ron Walker will fund a space program aimed at launching all the Atheists into outer space! Ron Walker believes you should love an unborn fetus the way your uncle loved you in the broom closet when you were a small child! Ron Walker will shut down those hippie vegan grocery stores in favor of a chain of World of Coq steakhouses! A vote for Ron Walker is a vote for happiness!"
Artie could only shake his head at the stupidity of the situation and was about to walk back to his car when he could feel his phone vibrating and pulled it out to see Iceman was calling him.
"What's up?" he had to shout over the chanting of protestors.
"Are you anywhere near the LaFollette district?" the weapons dealer called out.
"Are you fucking psychic or something? I'm there right now. I'm over in Arnold Square near that protest," Artie replied just as a fistfight started between supporters from the rival factions, which soon resulted in a domino effect of attacks leading into one huge knockdown, drag out brawl.
"Stay where you are. I'm coming," Iceman replied before the line went dead.
"Okay," Artie muttered to himself as two S.W.A.T. Enforcers rolled in followed by a riot tank, the latter of which spraying down several protesters with a water cannon while other officers fired tear gas canisters into the crowd. "Your ass better get here soon," he thought as he watched a small group of officers kicking the crap out of a long-haired man on the ground while he was being stunned by a taser.
A loud buzz caught the hired gun's attention and he turned to find Iceman racing towards him on a silver and blue Sanchez dirt bike, pulling a picture perfect stoppie 180 as he came to a halt.
"Get on! We have a job to do," the weapons dealer called out, "While you're at it, take these!" he said offering his friend an MP5 submachine gun affixed with a silencer and a black satchel filled with C-4 charges.
"What's going on?" Artie demanded climbing onto the back of the bike.
"Colt's got a contact who tells him there's a massive weapons shipment the military is bringing in on a civilian train and he wants to expand his stock. He's offering ten thousand to each of us for a job well done," Iceman explained as he drove through the streets and then moved onto a woodland trail that would provide them a shortcut to Roosevelt Hills.
"Why the hell are they bringing it in on a civilian train?" Artie asked while holding on tight.
"Apparently they don't wanna draw suspicion from the locals. This is some really advanced shit from what the guy was saying, real space age," Iceman replied.
"And just how are we going to be transporting all this 'advanced space age shit?'" Artie asked looking down to the Sanchez they rode on.
"Sid is on his way with a truck as we speak, got some guys with him too. They can help us out," Iceman replied as they came to a wooden bridge.
"Going after the U.S. Army? Man, you are one crazy motherfucker," Artie replied.
"Crazy? Heh, 'adventurous' is more like it," the smuggler replied as a wolf darted across the trail, temporarily catching Artie's attention as Iceman pressed forth down the wilderness trail.
"Whatever you say, you're the one with the death wish. I'm just along for the ride," Artie replied as the raced up another hill.
"You starting to pussy out already?" Iceman taunted, "I thought you had a pair."
"Well the people we were going after the last time were just a couple bums off the streets, these are trained fucking killers we're talking about here," Artie replied.
"Heh, you say that like it's a bad thing. Don't you believe in taking on a challenge every now and then?" Iceman laughed.
Artie shook his head as Iceman raced towards a set of railroad tracks, "Alright, there it is!" he shouted as the tail end of a silver train came into view, "Get ready to jump!"
"What the fuck do you think I am? An Italian jumping bean?" Artie asked looking towards him like he was bat shit crazy.
"I need you to get on that train and work your way to the front. Kill the engineer and bring the train to a stop so Sid and the boys can get the truck ready!" Iceman shouted as he got closer to the caboose, "Now just get ready to jump!"
"You owe me for this!" Artie shouted back as he brought his other leg over and attempted to get into a proper position on the wobbly surface.
Iceman said nothing and inched closer to the train until he was licking at the end and did what he could to ease his friend towards the rear platform.
"Now!"
With a mighty 'oomph' Artie leapt from the bike and grabbed onto the platform's railing, pulling himself onto the platform and breathing deeply as he found himself on somewhat stable ground.
"I'll cover you from here!" Iceman called out with a wave.
Artie used the butt of his silenced MP5 to break the door's handle and pull himself inside, finding himself in a car lined with racks, all of which were carrying green boxes.
Letting his curiosity get the best of him, he opened one of the boxes to find it lined with Mk 48 machine guns, causing him to let out a low whistle.
"Not exactly 'space age technology,' but still badass nonetheless," he whispered and looked into another crate to find it carrying FIM-92 Stinger missile launcher, "I hope Colt needs everything 'cause he could be sitting on top of a goldmine in here."
Artie was startled as a door opened behind him and whirled around to be met by a soldier clad in full combat gear.
"What the fuck?" the man blurted out dropping his coffee and scrambling for his M4, only to be cut down by a muffled barrage of armor-piercing rounds.
"Not today G.I. JOE," Artie said shaking his head as the man's radio sparked to life.
"Barnes, how do things look back there? Do you copy?" a voice called out causing the hitman to curse quietly.
"Only gonna be a matter of time before they're storming this place," he told himself grabbing the man's M4 and his SIG P226 sidearm.
Artie opened the door to the next car, only to find himself hugging the wall as another soldier took notice of his presence.
"We've got an intruder!" the man screamed before letting loose a volley of hot lead.
"Thank you Iceman," Artie grumbled sarcastically as more soldiers joined in the assault, sparks flying as their bullets struck the metallic surface around him.
"You are interfering with official United States Armed Forces business. Surrender at once and no harm will come to you," another soldier called out.
"You should've said that before you jackasses started shooting," Artie thought to himself looking over to the soldier he had just eliminated moments earlier and noticed the fragmentation grenades attached to him. Reaching over he quickly grabbed one and swiped it away, pulling the pin and tossing it towards the soldiers.
"Oh shit!" a third soldier called out.
"Fire in the hole!" another shouted, followed by a loud explosion that blew out several of the car's windows.
Artie peeked back into the car and opened fire upon the grunts, cutting down one in a hail of gunfire and sending another slumping into a nearby seat with his side torn open, soon to bleed to death.
"You're gonna pay you terrorist bastard!" another soldier shouted before firing repeated bursts from his M26 M.A.S.S. (Modular Accessory Shotgun System) until he was forced to reload. The man had been caught with his pants down as he struggled to insert a new box magazine, leaving him open to be cut down in another barrage from the hired gun.
"Your punk ass is gonna be so beyond F.U.B.A.R. when we're through with you," another soldier called out, followed by repeated cries of "Hooah!" from his comrades.
"You talk tough for a 'weekend warrior!'" Artie shouted back before he was forced to take cover behind another row of seats, sticking the barrel out to fire another burst.
The shatter of glass came from the other car followed by more gunfire and cries of pain from several of the soldiers and the hitman peeked his head out to see them having turned their attention to a new threat. Raising his rifle he let loose firing another barrage until the last man fell.
He entered the next car and looked over to see Iceman riding alongside with an MP5 in hand.
"Speed it up! My dead grandmother is slower than you!" he shouted.
"Try telling that to them!" Artie shouted back as another soldier popped into view and opened fire, forcing him to slide for cover behind some seats.
"Tango is pinned down! Repeat, tango is pinned down!" the soldier shouted and there was a loud 'clunk' as a fragmentation grenade landed alongside him.
"Oh shit," Artie called before bolting out of his hiding spot, raising his submachine gun and firing wildly over his shoulder before the grenade detonated, sending him flying forward and skidding along the floor until he collided with the corpse of his first kill. Pain ravaged his body, but he wasn't bleeding nor were any of his bones broken. He had to pushed himself back to his feet knowing he was a sitting duck and was again forced to take cover between the two cars.
"I'm gonna be getting a medal when I bring your rotting carcass in boy!" the soldier taunted, crawling along the floor to avoid the volley being fired upon him by Iceman. Unfortunately for him, it left him wide open for Artie to fire a burst directly into his face.
The hired gun pushed himself back to his feet and bolted down the freshly cleared cars until he came to a reinforced door that required an electronic key code for opening.
"Until now," Artie whispered to himself pulling out two C-4 charges and placing them at both sides of the door, hooking up the necessary wires for arming them before he took cover in the next car and pushed the button to detonate the explosives, blowing the door off its hinges, but also leaving him open to another barrage from the waiting soldiers inside.
"Our fallen brothers will not die in vain!" shouted a soldier raising an M249 S.A.W. (Squad Automatic Weapon) light machinegun and firing a barrage at him, forcing Artie to run backwards as the high-powered rounds ripped away at the floor before him and followed after him. The hired gun managed to leap behind another partition and went to fire, but his rifle clicked empty and he was forced to reload.
"C'mon out motherfucker, you're a dead man either way!" the machine gunner hollered before firing another barrage meant to intimidate him.
Artie peeked his rifle's barrel out and fired another burst when the man stopped, causing the soldier to fire even more wildly in his direction and letting out a mighty battle cry, until his weapon jammed on him at the worst possible time and the hired gun was free to fire another salvo which knocked the gun out of the man's hands and ripped apart his abdomen.
With the gunner out of the way Artie was free to enter the heavily secured car and found another space lined with racks filled with cases, these of which were filled with reinforced crates secured by electronic locks.
"So this must be the 'space age' stuff that Iceman was talking about," Artie remarked scratching his chin.
Meanwhile, up at the very front of the train the engineer sat near the controls with a rifle ready upon hearing an intruder had somehow made his way aboard the train.
"Damn it. I told the Colonel he should have had this stuff transported in by helicopter, but no, the pompous bastard insists on wanting to 'toughen his men up' and show them the 'finer arts of espionage.' Heh, my ass!"
The engineer had been so caught up in his thoughts he turned around, only to find a Biff dump truck had come to a halt at the upcoming railroad crossing.
"Oh shit!" the man screamed leaping over and pulling back on the brake as hard as he could, the train's wheels letting out a deafening metallic screech and the car quaking violently beneath him as he kept pulling back as hard as he could.
Sadly, his efforts would be for naught when the locomotive collided head on with the abandoned dump truck, resulting in a fiery explosion of twisted metal.
"What the fuck?" Iceman muttered to himself bringing the Sanchez to a halt while surveying the damage, until he was distracted by the roar of muscle car engines.
"Those sons of bitches," he grumbled as he spotted a Redcoat Clover speeding into view, followed closely by two of their Burritos.
"Alright boys, grab what you can!" a red-clad gangbanger shouted, revealing that the stalled dump truck had been part of a trap set up by them.
"Wait, we've got company!" another Redcoat called out, "It's the Cubans!"
"How the fuck did they know about this?" another asked reaching for an AK-47.
"How the fuck would either one of them have known about this?" Iceman asked as three Cuban-owned Hermes rushed into view, followed closely by a black and orange Moonbeam. The Cuban vehicles skidded to a halt and within seconds their orange-clad members were exiting, returning fire with FN CAL and L85A2 assault rifles and Calico M960 submachine guns.
It wasn't long before the remaining soldiers aboard the train had taken notice of the ensuing gunfight and joined in, their beef being with both opposing sides.
"Shit, I've gotta get Artie," Iceman whispered to himself pushing down his kickstand and rushing over to the train, where he climbed between one of the cars and smashed the porthole open with his MP5's stock.
"Man, this must be some really powerful stuff with the kind of security precautions they have installed," Artie spoke up as his friend entered.
"Hopefully nothing that Randy can't bypass," Iceman said observing a long and narrow case and then similar ones lying nearby. "The Redcoats are out there and so are the Cubans and they're shooting it out with the soldiers. I say we hang back and let them kill each other and then we pick the bones."
"Sounds perfectly fine with me," Artie replied moving into the next car to see another soldier armed with an M249 S.A.W. tearing through several of the gangsters before two Cubans would gang up on him and then make a beeline for his light machinegun, which prompted Iceman to raise his MP5 and fire a burst into the man's chest just as he was bending down to pick it up.
The three warring factions expended much ammo as they shot it out amongst themselves with no side showing any signs of giving up, the soldiers determined to protect their cargo and both of the rival gangs determined to steal it for themselves.
One of the soldiers had managed to sneak up on a Cuban thug in an orange bandana and blood-spattered wife beater, grabbing the man from behind and slicing his throat open with his Recon 1 Knife, tossing the dead man into one of his brothers before gunning down another criminal with his SIG Sauer P226, only to become engulfed as a Redcoat struck him with a Molotov cocktail.
"Here comes the pain you wetback bitches!" another soldier cried firing repeated blasts from his Mossberg M590A1 at some Cubans who had attempted to take cover behind their Hermes, firing until flames were creeping out from beneath the hood and taking cover before it could explode. The plucky trooper would be cut down by a barrage from a Redcoat just a second later.
"Come get some!" a beret-wearing trooper shouted firing a barrage from his MP5N while a buddy covered him with a CAR-15, both of them pinned down behind some large rocks, yet determined to fight to the very end as they found themselves outnumbered the combined might of Redcoats and Cubanos Locos.
"Suck on this!" the other soldier shouted pulling off one of his M67 grenades and chucking it over the rock, his arm being struck down from underneath by a rapid fire barrage.
"Medic!" the man screamed as he fell into the tall grass clutching the severed stump where his lower arm had been before going into shock.
"You motherfuckers!" the submachine gun-wielding soldier screamed rising to his feet and firing a nonstop barrage that managed to cut down several of the warring gang members, until his gun clicked empty and he was dropped by repeated rounds from an FN CAL.
In spite of their valiant efforts, the remaining soldiers realized they had bitten off more than they could chew and they were being pushed further backwards as the remaining gang members pressed forward, having temporarily forgotten their struggle with each other.
"We are under attack! We need backup at once!" one of the soldiers screamed into his radio, just before a three shot burst obliterated his face. The nameless trooper's death was quickly avenged as one of his colleagues cut the perpetrator down with a continuous barrage from his M4, taking down three more gangsters with him, until Iceman snuck up and knocked him out cold with a hard pistol whip to the back of his head.
"For all they would know, it was either a Redcoat or a Cuban who did this to him," the smuggler spoke to Artie as the numbers on all three sides were gradually thinning out, all of them having sustained heavy casualties.
"Fucking die you cocksuckers!" another soldier shouted launching a grenade with his M203 and succeeding in destroying one of the Redcoat Burritos and killing the last remaining thugs to be seen.
"All hostiles accounted for?" a man in a green beret called out, only to be cut down by a barrage of fire along with the rest of his remaining men.
"Now they are," Iceman chuckled, the barrel of an M240B smoking before him, and pulled out his cell phone, "Sid, where's your lazy ass at? We've cleared a path for you and the boys. Get over here now!"
"Damn, I thought Uncle Sam's boys would've put up more of a fight. Guess I was wrong," Artie remarked looking along a bloodstained ridge littered with the bodies of military men, Redcoats and Cubanos alike.
It wasn't much later when a Mule was pulling into view and backing itself towards the train. Sid emerged from the driver's side carrying an AA-12 automatic shotgun accompanied by five additional thugs.
"Alright boys, let's get this stuff loaded up. We don't have much time to waste!" Iceman ordered grabbing an electronically-sealed crate and lugging it over to the truck.
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With a mighty heave, the final box was loaded into the back of the Mule and Iceman wiped away the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
"Alright, get inside boys. We're getting the hell outta here," the gun runner ordered, just as one of his men fell dead next to him with a fresh crater in his forehead.
"Shit! Sniper! Get down!" he shouted leaping for cover behind one of the train cars as another bullet pinged off the delivery truck's surface.
Artie dove for cover behind another car and saw the brief flash of sunlight reflecting off of glass in a nearby bush. Another one of Iceman's guys fell as a round tore through his shoulder and he was left to writhe on the ground, his buddies knowing the man was trying to bait them into trying to save him.
The hired gun still had some ammo left in his M4 and fired in the direction of the bush, but didn't know whether or not he had succeeded in hitting the marksman, firing until his clip ran empty.
"Looks like that prick didn't come alone," Sid called out hearing the flutter of helicopter wings in the distance as he tried to sneak along the opposite side of the truck, but was driven backwards by another round from the sniper.
Artie saw what the punk rocker was talking about and his eyes widened as an Annihilator flew into view and could hear the whirr of its mini-guns starting up.
"Look out!" he screamed while diving for cover.
The high-powered rounds tore apart the earth and right away the wounded henchman and two others were cut down in a flurry of screaming lead.
Iceman cursed to himself as he hit the deck, his group now down to himself, Artie, Sid and a hired gun called Beetle, all of them scrambling for cover as the chopper rained hellfire upon them.
Beetle had been carrying an AR-15 Armalite and attempted to return fire, but unfortunately he had been too slow and literally found himself shoved through a blender as the copter's high velocity rounds shredded him apart from the inside out.
Iceman's blood boiled as he watched his last man fall and looked over to find a crate in the back of the Mule with its lid knocked off, revealing an M202A1 rocket launcher.
"Jackpot," the gun runner exclaimed pulling himself into the cargo bed just in time to avoid another flesh tearing barrage. Finding some incendiary rockets he quickly loaded them into the barrels and waited for the chopper to come closer, guided by the sound of its blades. "Come to me you bastards," he whispered while hefting the launcher onto his shoulder.
He could hear the rattle of the copters mini-guns and the booms of Sid attempting to return fire, listening intently until he swore the chopper had flown past and stepped out with the rocket launcher raised, firing a rocket which struck the bird dead on and sent shards of jagged burning scrap metal flying in all directions.
"C'mon, we've gotta get going!" he shouted as a Patriot spun into view with a .50 caliber machinegun turret mounted to its rooftop, firing another rocket head on into the approaching vehicle before the driver even had a chance to open fire.
Iceman threw himself into the driver's seat while Sid climbed in next to him and strapped themselves in, while Artie was still attempting to take down the sniper.
"Artie, forget about that douchebag! We need to get the hell outta here!" the dealer shouted firing up the Mule and turning the radio's knob so the blazing riffs of Unearth's "Watch It Burn" blasted throughout the corpse strewn countryside, a proper song for the violent occasion.
The hitman could hear the smuggler calling out to him and looked over his shoulder to see the Mule in motion with its rear shutter opened. Through the window at the back of the cab he could see Sid frantically waving him forth as two more Patriots sped into view with their turret guns blazing. Forgetting about the sniper he bolted towards the fleeing delivery truck as the bullets tore away at the earth around him and with a running leap of faith, launched himself into the container.
"Okay, he's in!" Sid shouted over to Iceman.
The smuggler nodded and slammed the gas pedal down to the floor, utilizing some crafty maneuvering to avoid being rammed by the Patriot, a miracle given the notoriously sluggish handling of a Mule.
"Artie, you're gonna have to hold those fuckers off while we get back to Colt's!" Iceman shouted over his shoulder while getting the truck back onto the nearby road. "There's a rocket launcher back there, use it to slow those fuckers down!"
He took notice of the same M202A1 Iceman had been using earlier and loaded two additional incendiary rockets, waiting for one of the Patriots to get back on the road before firing a rocket which caught it in the side and sent its flaming husk tumbling sideways down the road, the other barely missing it as its driver entered the blacktop.
"Are you fucking killing them back there? Or are you pissing your pants like a little bitch?" Iceman called back to him.
"Get off the rag and drive!" Artie shouted back as the other Patriot came speeding towards them, close enough to where he wouldn't be able to fire without catching the Mule in the blast radius. The S.U.V. rammed the delivery truck hard and caused one of the crates to spill out onto the highway.
Fortunately for Artie, he still had some of his MP5 ammo left and he fired towards the turret, taking out the gunner before directing his fire towards the windshield and fired a cluster of rounds which tore the driver's chest and throat apart before the submachine gun clicked empty and he let it clatter out of the back as the military vehicle spun out.
Iceman breathed heavily as he made a sharp turn on the off-ramp, nearly causing the top-heavy vehicle to roll over. He honked his horn wildly at the '84 Phoenix ahead of him, but the muscle car wouldn't budge.
"Fuck this shit," he said continuing to push the truck to its limits before coming alongside the muscle car and sideswiping the dark blue vehicle, causing it to spinout and crash into the nearby median. "I almost feel sad for doing that…that was a beautiful car," he said to his employee.
"Oh fucking shit!" Sid screamed and pointed ahead of them, where two military Patriots had somehow gotten ahead of them to form a barricade at the ramp's exit, soldiers clad in full combat gear firing upon them with M4 Carbines and rattling the front of the truck with bullets. The punk rocker attempted to return fire through the shattered windshield, but the truck rocked violently and he was unable to get a proper shot.
"What the fuck's going on up there?" Artie shouted back.
"Don't worry about us. Just watch our fucking ass!" Iceman shouted back as he made a suicidal charge towards the barricade.
"Boss, what the fuck?" Sid screamed.
"Now's not the time to be a bitch!" Iceman hollered back gunning the engine and continuing his full throttle charge, the soldiers clearing out before he could slam head on through the blockade.
The delivery truck jolted violently and Artie found himself thrown backwards, hitting his head hard against the cab's metal interior.
"Gah…damn it!" he screamed as crates fell on top of him, "Damn…you…Iceman…" he groaned weakly as he struggled to steady his vision.
The wail of a police siren caught the hired gun's attention and he looked up to see a patrol cruiser speeding towards them at a frantic pace.
"This is the Rushmore City Police Department! Pull over at once or else we are authorized to use lethal force!" the officer shouted over his megaphone.
"Get that fucking pig off our tails Artie!" Iceman shouted as he plowed head on into a Vader sports bike, sending the driver flying several feet into the air and splattering against the side of an apartment complex. Unfortunately, that act was carried out within the view of an officer mounted on an HPV-1000 police bike. Forgetting about the other motorist he was in the process of issuing a ticket to he joined in on the pursuit.
"Christ, these assholes are like a bad fucking case of herpes!" Sid shouted as he fired upon the motorcycle officer, eventually striking the man's front tire and sending him falling head over feet to the pavement.
"Tell me something I don't know," Iceman shouted back as the truck was rammed from the side by another police cruiser.
"Surrender at once and we might just let you live!" the officer called out.
"Hey, remember what the watchdog groups said, we can't talk like that during pursuits!" his partner called out, "The department can't afford another police brutality lawsuit."
Artie raised the rocket launcher to fire at the cruiser pursuing them, but the truck was again rocked violently and the projectile soared harmlessly over the car and into the side of a textile shop.
"Will you fucking be more careful? Can't you see I'm trying to cover your ass?" he screamed to Iceman as the launcher nearly slipped from his grasp.
"Well it's hard to drive like you're in the country when you've got all these fucking cops around you!" Iceman hollered back, gripping the steering wheel with one hand as he fired upon the pursuing officers with his MP5, severely damaging a Serrano luxury S.U.V. that had been passing through an intersection.
Artie shrugged off the outburst and again attempted to steady the launcher, hastily squeezing the trigger and sending a rocket flying head on into the patrol car, overcome by the intense wave of heat as it exploded in a brilliant blinding flash.
"You get the fucker?" he could barely hear Iceman shouting to him, his ears ringing after the close proximity blast and his sight slowly returning after the flash.
"Hey, are you fucking deaf?" Iceman hollered, "Did you get those pricks?"
"Yeah…I got them," Artie grunted while struggling to keep his balance.
It wasn't much longer until they were arriving in the Stilsen district and Iceman was taking a left-hand turn into the alley alongside the Ammu-Nation and Artie finally allowed himself to slink into a sitting position while the gun runner honked the Mule's horn twice. A garage door at the back of the building opened and he slowly pulled inside, quickly getting out and running over to push the button that would lower the shutter.
"Well, well, well, Iceman you badass motherfucker you!" Colt called out and walked over to give his longtime friend a hearty pat on the back, "Once again you pull through. I'd tell you impress me, but I think I've already said that too many times before. If I said it again you'd probably think I was trying to sweet talk you like a Red Light whore."
"Sure thing, a few more bumps in the road than we expected, but still got the job done," Iceman said making his way around to the back of the truck, where Artie was still breathing deeply after barely holding off their attackers.
"I see you brought the lightweight along for the ride, or does he always sleep on the job like that?" Colt laughed.
"Fuck you jackass! You have no idea what the fuck we just went through," Artie grunted using a nearby crate to support himself as he rose back to his feet, "Not to forget, the Redcoats and those Cuban fucks somehow found out about the shipment."
"I sent you on the fucking mission didn't I? Of course I knew what the fuck you boys would've been going through, and you kill all of those fuckers, didn't you?" Colt spoke in his usual condescending tone towards the hired gun as he walked over to the nearby refrigerator and pulled out two Blowenkoch beers, taking one for himself and handing the other to Iceman, "I'd give you one too, but I don't have an itty bitty Sippy cup around for you."
"Any idea how those fuckers could've found out about the shipment? More importantly, how they could've known it was being transported on a regular civilian train?" Iceman asked using his combat knife to remove the bottle cap.
"I have no clue son," Colt replied before taking a long swig, "My buddy's pretty good about tying up all the loose ends before he lets me know these things. There must've been a rat somewhere, that's my only wild guess," he said before looking over to Artie, "Then again, Dago Boy over there probably attracted him with all that cologne the big shot 'made men' wear."
"Just shut the fuck up and give us our payment already," Artie snapped, "Iceman said you'd promise ten thousand for a job well done. We can back with a truck full of guns, didn't we?" he said motioning towards the shot up Mule.
"Heh, you that eager for one of those high end manicures they give away over in Sawyer Gardens?" Colt laughed walking back towards his office.
Artie finally had enough of the proprietor's insults and grabbed a machete off a nearby workbench, only to stop as Iceman stepped in front of him.
"Whoa there! Take it easy six-shooter," the smuggler said snatching the weapon from his hands.
"What the fuck's wrong with that asshole? I know you said I'd be shit to him until I proved myself, but we just fucking killed God knows how many Redcoats and Cubans, not to mention U.S. freaking Army soldiers and survived! You mean to tell me that isn't even good enough for him?" Artie demanded.
"You never know with Colt," Iceman said looking back to the man's office, where he could be seen biting a chunk out of a headless boa constrictor he had recently cooked on a grill, "He's an unusual character, so you can never tell when you've finally won his approval. Believe me; he still treated me like dog shit after I managed to steal a whole shitload of RPG-7s from some Colombians over in Spruce City, yet it took me gunning down some scrawny defenseless shit over in Bellowfield to make him happy, all because he was pissed over the guy selling him some faulty scrap metal."
"I'd surely consider that fucked up," Artie replied before Colt emerged from his office with two stuffy envelopes in hand.
"Alrighty boys, here you go," the gunsmith said handing both men their rewards, "Ten thousand big ones for the both of you, hopefully you can do more with that Patriot of yours," he said nodding to Iceman before smirking towards Artie, "Don't go blowing that on your boyfriend all in one sitting, I ain't no sugar daddy remember."
"Fuck you," Artie grunted walking off before Iceman followed after him.
"You need a ride back to the bar?" Iceman asked catching up.
"Nah, take me to LaFollette. I left the Sentinel over there," the hired gun replied.
"Sure thing," Iceman said as the duo made their way towards his waiting Patriot.
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Author's Note: This was another mission I thought up spur of the moment because the chapter after this wasn't going to be very action-oriented and I didn't wanna put you guys to sleep with two 'downtime' chapters back to back, so I thought this up to keep the blood pumping.
The Pissed Off Organized People (P.O.O.P.) Party is obviously meant to be a spoof of the Tea Party movement and the scene at the political rally was inspired by the 'Steering the Vote' mission from "GTA: Liberty City Stories."
Regarding the actual hijacking itself, I drew inspiration from the 'Wrong Side of the Tracks,' 'Robbing Uncle Sam,' 'Highjack,' and 'Catalyst' missions from "San Andreas."
Blowenkoch is intended to just be a parody of German-named beer in general, more specifically the Leinenkugel beer that is brewed right here in Wisconsin. I figured using a German-sounding name could be a good way to disguise more sexual innuendos, that or it could be a double entendre because it could sound like "blow and coke" in drug terms.
The scene with Colt eating the dead boa constrictor is inspired by some gameplay footage I saw of Naked Snake eating a snake from "Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater," especially seeing as Colt himself is a former military man and I wanted to show him as not being in his right mind obviously.
Well that does it until then so as always read and review! This is Metal Harbinger saying SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/