Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Thirty:
"You know, if you pace anymore you're likely to dig a hole straight through the floor of my ship," Four Seven Niner noted wryly as she watched Dexter Grif move past her for the hundredth time, "And, trust me, no one will be happy about that."
Grif paused and sighed, turning to face the pilot, "Sorry, I guess." He muttered under his breath.
She shrugged and returned her attention to the controls, "It's fine. I can tell how anxious everyone is. You can cut the tension with a knife."
"You don't know the fucking half of it."
Right now, Grif was waiting for the signal that their part of the plan would commence. He was in a group with Sheila, Lopez, Kimball, and Doyle, all of whom were preparing to infiltrate the Staff of Charon once the signal for the operation launched.
It had been tough for the orange-armored soldier after Sarge brought him to where the others were hiding. Grif had to first decide which part of their two-pronged (thank fuck Donut wasn't here) attack he wanted to go with. After all, his sister and the others would be at the fucked up auction party, but Simmons and the two kids would no doubt be stuck on the transport.
However, the decision became a little easier after he realized that a majority of their group, including Tex and Carolina, would be infiltrating the party. He knew that Kai and the others would be in far more capable hands so, while he trusted the other four, having an extra person tagging along with them could make all the difference in the world.
Even Sarge had approved of his tactical reasoning, which honestly had Grif feeling rather conflicted. At least until Carolina had said it was a sound call to make too. But now? Well, he could honestly say that waiting for imminent danger and potential injury or death really sucked. When did it never though?
"No?" The pilot raised an amused dark eyebrow, "Because there's nothing I'd rather do than get this ship into gear the second Carolina tells me to."
Grif sighed, knowing they were all on edge, "Sorry."
"It's cool." She smirked, "Tensions always run high right about now during missions."
The chubby man appreciated Niner's understanding and nodded, turning to the side when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Kimball's determined look was oddly comforting, "We're going to move out as soon as possible, Grif." She assured him, "We're all tired of waiting."
Doyle had joined the trio, the gun he was gripping somehow out of place in his hands, "Quite right." He agreed, "It's time for this rescue mission to get well underway."
"Personalmente, tampoco me importaría un reembolso." {"Personally, I wouldn't mind some payback either."} Lopez looked over at Grif expectantly, "Aunque creo que eres el que tiene más posibilidades de golpear a Hargrove aquí." {"Though I think you're the one most likely to punch Hargrove here."}
Sheila nodded at whatever Lopez had said, "Once he assures the safety of Simmons and the others, I agree."
"Hm," Doyle mused over at Kimball, "I feel as though we missed a vital piece of information there."
But Grif didn't hear whatever it was that the former Supply Runner turned leader said in response, his eyes going back to the console that would let them know when exactly it was time to move out. The plan from there was straightforward: get inside, place explosives to make the ship go boom, find Simmons and the two kids, and then run like fuck to get out of there.
Niner returned to finetuning everything for immediate takeoff, "Staring at it won't make it go off any faster." She advised him.
Grif sighed again. For once in his life, he was seriously fucking hating inaction.
Lavernius Tucker was situated on the outskirts of the party along with Tex and Bitters. He fidgeted nervously under the cloak he wore to cover up his armor, hating the extra layer as redundant but knowing it was best for the time being.
"Tucker, relax." Tex advised as she calmly and deftly shoved the unconscious body of the space pirate guard she had just dealt with into a nearby broom closet.
The trio were located in a side-hallway with a good view into the disturbing as-all-fuck formal affair taking place in the decorated space before them. If it weren't for the armored goons, the weaponry and other tech on display, and the fucking cages, this would almost be like any other fancy shindig that Tucker was likely to get himself kicked out of. It was surreal, and it made him sick.
They were just out of hearing range for the stage too, which sucked major ass since it meant that they were in the dark as to when things got really underway. But getting any closer would mean risking getting caught and…
"Right. I know." Tucker let out a loud sigh as he acknowledged what Tex said before he straightened his posture and spoke through the comm-link, "We're in position."
There was a burst of static from the link as Sarge's gruff voice stated, "So are we."
"Yeah." Church added, "Us too."
They had three groups surrounding the area. Sarge and Andersmith made up one, while Carolina was with Church and Grey as they worked on getting their portion of the plan underway. Which left…
A brown-haired waiter with glasses on was staring right at them and waving. Tucker groaned and made a hand gesture he hoped would tell Doc to act like a part of the wait staff and not get them all caught. It seemed to do the trick, as the medic went to mingle and offer drinks amongst the partygoers.
"Never would have thought he'd volunteer for that." Tex mused next to Tucker, and Tucker let out a small breath since he knew that the pacifist was only doing so on account of Donut. Tucker owed the pink-wearing dirty blond too. For that and for a whole host of reasons, they couldn't afford to fuck this up.
"Hey, guys?" Doc's voice whispered through a moment later, accompanied by movement on stage, "I think they're starting."
Tucker tensed. Any minute now…
There was more activity on stage as Charon's hired henchmen brought out their first human merchandise. Next to him, Tucker could feel Bitters tensing up at the familiar tan and yellow figure standing front and center.
"Matthews!" The lieutenant made a move as if he was going to rush the stage. Tucker could hardly blame him, the sight of the chain leash they were using to "walk" Matthews from side-to-side of the viewing platform was horrific, especially with how terrified the kid looked.
It was probably a good thing that whatever was being said as bidders raised their hands was muffled given their vantage point.
"Easy." Tex grabbed Bitters' shoulder before he could blow their cover, "We're going to save your friend, kid."
The young man glanced over at Matthews again, shrugging off Tex's grip and looking positively stricken. Truthfully, both Tucker and Tex were rather impressed that he stayed still all the same. Evidently the bidding war had finished while they had been conversing, as that asshole Hargrove was shaking a rather seedy-looking guy's hand in congratulations closer to the stage.
"Apparently he's big into the, um," Doc sounded squeamish over the comm-link, "Breeding scene."
"What the fuck!?" Bitters' enraged remark as the man's thugs started to collect Matthews from the stage was cut off by a quick, flashing light signal from where Church and Grey had been hiding and doing their computer thing with Carolina acting as their cover.
That was the fucking signal they had all been waiting for, and not a moment too soon in Tucker's book, "'Bout fucking time!" He shouted at the top of his lungs as he tore off his stupid cloak and promptly ran into the fray along with Tex and Bitters.
"Yeehaw!" Sarge's yell of unbridled glee could be heard even over the shouts of surprise their arrival on the scene caused as he brandished his shotgun right alongside Andersmith, "Eat lead, dirtbags!"
The shielding on one of the cages onstage suddenly dimmed, and Washington rushed forward to grab a guard by the neck. The blond wrestled a datapad from the guard's hands before anyone could even blink, using it to deactivate the rest of the cages as the rest of their group moved swiftly in response to their newfound freedom as well.
The whole scene turned into one of absolute chaos, but the residents of Chorus damn well knew how to take advantage of it.
"Going somewhere, jackass?"
Church didn't bother to even attempt hiding the anger mixed with glee from his voice as he, Grey, and Carolina cornered Malcolm Hargrove while the large room began to give way to panic. Beyond them, he could make out Palomo jumping on the back of a surprised guard as Jensen wrestled the man's gun away, the pair quickly using the newfound weaponry to keep others attempting to swarm them all at bay as they moved to join the close-by trio. Honestly, Church had never been as damn proud of the Chorus kids as he was now.
"Church! Agent Carolina! Doctor Grey!" Jensen called out as the two lieutenants both descended from the stage, "Are you okay?"
Church rolled his eyes at the concern on their faces, "Honestly, we should be fucking asking you that!"
"Oh, we're doing loads better now, sir!" Palomo replied almost gleefully as Church tossed him his non-Freckles gun since the dark-skinned youth would probably be a better shot with it. Not that Church would ever fucking admit that out loud.
Hargrove seemed annoyingly nonplussed at having been cornered, even with Carolina cracking her knuckles rather threateningly, "You'll pay for ruining this evening, gentlemen." He simply said.
"Oh my, he's acting like we didn't come here with a plan!" Grey said with a smile that was all sorts of unnerving.
But fuck if Church couldn't get behind the sentiment for it, "Yeah, hate to burst your bubble there but," he turned to his right just as a small holographic figure materialized there, "Santa?"
"Of course, Church." The red alien figure bowed his head and suddenly the lighting in the theater dimmed to only the emergency settings. There were also several loud unclasping sounds as the bombs their captured friends had all been sporting crashed to the floor with heavy thuds.
"Sweet!" Palomo exclaimed as both he and Jensen ran hands over their now exposed necks, smiling at one another in relief as they did so.
"The bombs can still do more than enough damage where they are." Hargrove only seemed mildly annoyed, and Carolina swore loudly as he activated an energy shield around him.
"Miller, was it?" Hargrove turned to a guard that had just joined him, "I'll triple your salary if you'd do the honors."
The Miller asshole, from the safety of the shield's boundary, smirked as he stared at the shocked people before him, "With pleasure, sir."
And fuck, Miller had the switch with him. It looked like their group's attack virus hadn't affected the detonation remote in the slightest. Carolina was already racing to the shield that separated them from Hargrove and Miller, fist outstretched but Church could only see her going in slow motion…
A gunshot suddenly rang out from behind Miller and Hargrove, the destroyed remote flying in an arc from the pirate's shocked hand before it landed sparking on the floor just as his sister's fist collided with the shielding that dissipated in a flash of light, throwing their adversaries forcefully backwards.
"You!" Now Hargrove looked rightly pissed off as he turned around to face the person who had ruined his revenge plans, "What have you done?"
Sharkface of all fucking people threw his gun to the side, apparently preferring the flamethrower he carried instead, "I should be asking you that, sir." He spat out with unconcealed venom, "Without the bombs being localized to their targets, they'd take out a good portion of your own forces."
"Now is not the time for sentiment!"
Sharkface's toothy visor seemed to be glaring at Hargrove, "Was it ever for you?" he asked at length, "Was my family merely sacrificed too?"
Hargrove let out a snarl and Sharkface laughed mirthlessly in response, "All this fucking time!" He muttered dangerously into the air.
Whatever else he had to say, however, was drowned out by a familiar voice shouting, "Church! Freckles!"
Caboose leapt from the stage, tossing guards away as he went straight past the tense standoff until he was crushing Church and Freckles both in a bruising hug.
"CABOOSE!" Freckles exclaimed happily while Church both returned the hug and struggled to breathe.
"I knew you'd get us out!"
Carolina smiled at the reunion before she and Sharkface both took threatening steps closer towards the enemy pair before them, only sparing a quick nod and glance at the other.
But it was Grey, stepping in-between both Jensen and Palomo then, who beat them to the punch first, "Have either of you gentlemen ever seen a bone saw up close?" She asked sweetly, "I always carry one with me for demonstration purposes!"
Miller had the good sense to let out a terrified "Eep!" at least.
Franklin Delano Donut was pushed down onto the stage by some very handsy, very rude guards once everyone had started moving in every which way, "Hey!" He shouted, managing to kick one in the shin and get them to back away from the impromptu doggy pile he was being threatened with, "At least buy me dinner first!"
One of the men evidently had enough of his mouth (never heard that before though!), as a gun was suddenly pointed right at it (gunplay was so not his style, but to each their own), "Shut up or get dead!"
How much ruder and less grammatically correct could you get? Donut had to bite down on his tongue to keep from tersely saying that out loud to his adversary. He was not at all prepared for a serving tray to slam down violently on the back of the guy's head and cause him to go crashing to the floor nearby with a groan. Nor was he expecting the person holding it to be…
"Doc!" Donut exclaimed happily as the medic reached down and helped pull the pink-wearing man away from the three guys who had still been keeping him in a sort-of tackle. Doc didn't let go of his hand even as Donut kicked one of the clawers back down, "What are you doing here?" Donut asked, genuinely intrigued.
"Saving you, of course!" Doc didn't let him finish hitting one of the bad guys this time, but he could be forgiven just this once, "I'm returning the favor!"
Suddenly, it was as if they weren't in the middle of a chaotic battlefield, "Oh, you really didn't…"
The hand wrapped around Donut's still squeezed tightly, "Donut." Doc's voice was serious, earnest, "I needed to. I…"
One of the goons apparently remembered he had a weapon, and as he aimed his gun at the pair…
A shotgun blast dropped him back down to the floor of the stage on top of his comrades, both of whom suddenly had their hands up as Sarge and Andersmith encircled them.
"Freeze, dirtbags!" Sarge commanded of the still conscious pair near Doc and Donut, "Lieutenant, get those cuffs nice and ready!"
"Yes, sir!" Andersmith replied, quick to get to work.
Sarge harrumphed in approval at the man's effectiveness and then glanced over at the others, "Donut!" He zeroed in on him, "You all right, son?"
Donut grinned and looked over at Doc, "Never better, Sarge!" He exclaimed brightly, "And it's all thanks to my dashing hero here!"
Underneath his glasses, Doc was blushing furiously as Donut squeezed his hand back.
The bomb may have been removed from his neck, but that still left the chain leash to contend with. Matthews gasped out loud when the man who had just bought him yanked on the thing and caused him to stumble.
They were near an exit, the auburn-haired man noticed with growing panic as he tried digging his heels fruitlessly into the smooth ground. If they left, then…!
A figure in black suddenly careened with his buyer, sending him flying through the air and into a nearby wall with a sickening thud and a whole lot of cracks.
Matthews nearly fell on his face as a result, but someone grabbed his arm and prevented it. He glanced over at who it was, elation filling his heart, "B—Bitters!" He exclaimed happily.
The other young man with the multi-colored hair smiled, "I can never leave you alone, can I?"
They were both blushing as a result of his choice of words then, Matthews looking away, "Um…" He mumbled in embarrassment.
"You two can save the mushy reunion stuff for later." Tex promptly told them, "We still have plenty of asses to kick right now."
"Right. A whole fucking shitload of them." Bitters helped to remove the collar from Matthews' neck as the woman in black tossed him a gun, "You up for this, Matthews?"
Matthews grinned his most "suck up" worthy smile ever to reassure his comrade, "Of course!"
"Tucker!"
The dark-skinned man turned at the sound of Washington's voice as the blond called out to him, both feeling immensely relieved to see the other. Tucker watched the older man approach, also feeling quite annoyed at the same fucking time, "You fucker!" Tucker shouted over to him, "Why didn't you fucking leave with Bitters when you got the chance?"
"I—!"
"Whatever, dude. I get it even if I think you're an idiot. Stubborn Freelancer mentality and all that shit." He grinned, "I'm just glad it actually fucking worked this time."
"Tucker…"
Tucker cut Washington off before he could finish whatever it was he had been about to say in the line of unneeded apologies or explanations, "I don't see Junior." He noted, trying not to reveal the edge of panic in his voice.
Washington glanced around at the chaos still happening all around them, "That's because he's most likely still on the ship."
"Well, what the fuck are we doing here then?" Tucker demanded, "Come on, let's go get our kid back!"
Washington smiled, nodding his head in agreement, "Let's. The others have a handle on things here."
An unconscious body fell to the ground nearby just then, with Kai and Volleyball standing behind it, "You're saving Junior, right?" Kai demanded of the two of them, "Then let us help, assholes! I've gotta save my bro's nerd boyfriend too!"
A gunshot fired, and Volleyball barely shoved Kai and herself out of the bullet's path in time as Washington moved protectively in front of Tucker.
A very pissed off-looking Felix was glaring at them from underneath his helmet's visor, "No one is going to be saving anyone because you're all going to die here!"
"No, they aren't." A shimmering form materialized just in front of Felix as Locus suddenly appeared in full view.
"What are you talking about, partner?" Felix demanded as his body language suddenly went even more rigid.
Locus ignored the mercenary to talk over his shoulder at the assembled four, "Go. Save your friends." He told them, "I will keep him busy."
"You fucking traitor!" Felix snarled, putting two and two together as he charged at his former partner, "Like hell you will!"
Locus spun out of the way, moving surprisingly fast for someone so big, throwing two items at Tucker. The teal-wearing man snatched them in midair.
The objects were the swords. Or the keys, or whatever the fuck they were. His and Doyle's.
"This doesn't make us even, but thanks. I guess." Tucker told Locus, clearly shocked by this turn of events.
"Just go." Locus said as he blocked a knife swipe from Felix.
Tucker glanced over at his three comrades before motioning towards the exit he knew to be closest to the Staff of Charon, "C'mon!" He shouted, already on his way.
Carolina let out a growl as the blinding light from the flash grenade finally faded from view. Who knew how many tricks Hargrove still had up his sleeve? Not that it mattered much anymore, because…
"He's gone." She let out in disappointment, clenching her fists at her sides.
Sharkface scoffed, pointedly looking away from Miller's still twitching body on the ground nearby, "Only one place he'd go." He muttered.
"His ship." Carolina surmised, merely getting a curt nod in response.
…Which just meant they would have to corner him all over again.
Sharkface glanced over at the very heated fight raging on between Locus and Felix, "Good luck with that, I guess." He stated as he started inexplicably moving towards it.
Carolina took a step forward then, "Tha—!"
"Save your thanks. I didn't do it for you." With that, Sharkface ran to join the mercenaries' fray.
Everyone from Chorus was starting to converge around her, save for Tucker and his group who she knew were already on their way to the Staff of Charon. They needed to go. Now.
Sighing, Carolina opened her comm-link once more, "Ready for that pickup, Niner?"
There wasn't even a second's wait before the pilot's voice replied, "For you? Always."
As the two walked through the lab to reach the fake nursery, a faint sound reached Richard "Dick" Simmons' ears that gave the redhead pause as Junior looked up at him expectantly. It almost sounded like a baby crying, and it was lasting an awfully long time given that two "guard nurses" were supposedly always on duty.
Panic started coursing through his veins and circuitry, though he tried his best to hide it from Junior even as his grip on the boy's hand tightened a fraction more and he renewed his hurried steps.
The playroom had dim lighting. It was noticeably empty of any adults, the only figure being the tiny one currently thrashing within the bundle of blankets she had been wrapped with within her crib, tearstained face red from exertion.
"Easy!" Simmons was by the crib's side in a second despite the alarm bells going off in his head, trying to soothe the baby as he lifted her gently from the crib while Junior anxiously watched on.
Her cries lessened at the human contact, and Simmons smiled into her clear blue eyes as she gazed wonderingly at his face. They could do this. He could get them out…
But then Junior was tugging frantically on his shirt and, as Simmons turned around to face him, the sight behind the teal-lined boy made his blood run cold.
"Hello, Richard." Aiden Price spoke calmly as if he didn't have a gun trained on an unarmed man and two small children, "Should you really be up yet?"
"Th—that's…" Simmons swallowed thickly before trying to speak up again, "Shouldn't you be at the…the sale?"
"Ah, yes. About that," Price's smile was still extremely unfaltering and creepy, "It seems that there have been some complications."
Did that mean that the others were okay? Simmons could barely dream to hope.
"We're leaving soon." Price informed him.
That hope died a horrible death, dashed to pieces on rocks. Simmons glanced down at Junior's terrified face and the infant's still wondering one, "What about…?" he began.
"The children will be coming with us, of course."
"I have to try and get a profit somewhere, since I have to so spectacularly cut my losses here."
Hargrove appearing in the door too caused Simmons' stomach to drop even more.
"You're an asshole." He breathed out, remembering Grif's commentary from before and finding it woefully underrated for what he really felt towards the monster standing before him.
Hargrove seemed infuriatingly more amused than upset by the declaration, "Perhaps, but I know how to use what I have at my disposal to the fullest." He stated, "The children are valuable research specimens and you, Richard, are going to help guarantee my legacy just as your father and I had planned all those years ago."
"You're insane." He breathed out, moving in front of Junior then and turning his body to shield the baby from sight as best he could.
"Your opinion on the matter means nothing," Hargrove informed him succinctly, dispassionately, "Especially once we fine tune the control so that it works completely." The older man noted the cyborg's body language and smirked mirthlessly, "Come now and be a good boy, Richard. We know you won't do anything with the children here."
Simmons frowned, his grip around the baby tightening protectively as he moved Junior further back into the room. What could he do? Just then, the Staff of Charon shook so violently that he nearly lost his footing. Price's gun dropped from his hand as he and Hargrove staggered and tried to keep their footing…
Only for an orange blur followed by four other armored colored sets to come racing forward, Grif spinning the still stumbling Hargrove around and socking him in the jaw with enough force that he crumpled completely.
"Llámalo." {"Called it."}
Whatever Lopez said was drowned out as everyone save Grif aimed their guns at Hargrove and Price.
"Don't even think about it." Kimball advised the Counselor when he made a slight motion to reach down for his own dropped weapon.
"Grif!" Simmons raced forward with Junior hot on his heels, relief nearly causing him to fall to the ground.
Fortunately, Grif was there to grab onto him, the two forgetting where they were even as they embraced, the baby cooing happily within their arms. The ship, however, was still shaking with noticeable tremors.
"I hate to interrupt, but our detonations are going off now." Doyle nervously cut in, "We should be departing ourselves."
Reluctantly, the pair pulled apart and a grim countenance formed on Simmons' face as he took in the meaning of Doyle's words, "Right." He stated, tilting his head in Hargrove and Price's direction, "What about them?"
"I say we just leave them." Grif scoffed as he grabbed Simmons' free hand and pulled Junior along past the two men held at gunpoint with his other hand.
"No."
Both Doyle and Kimball spoke up at once, turning to look at the other.
Doyle nodded his head to let Kimball speak, "They need to be punished for what they have done. To us, to Chorus, and to other regions as a whole."
"She's right, Grif." Simmons stated.
The dark-skinned man rolled his eyes, "Fine." He muttered unhappily.
"We'll make sure of it." Sheila assured them as she and Lopez moved forward to restrain the prisoners.
The journey out of the ship was pretty much one big blur for Simmons as he and Junior were dragged along by a hurrying-for-once-in-his-life Grif, the baby clutched protectively under his human arm seemingly cheerfully oblivious to the urgent situation they were all in.
Before the cyborg knew it, they were outside and…
"Dex! Simmons!" Kai shouted as she and Volleyball raced forward to hug both of them in turn, "Holy fuck, you're alive!"
"Never doubted it, sirs." Volleyball smiled.
"Junior! Hey, kiddo!" Tucker and Washington were there too, Tucker pulling his son into an embrace and kissing the top of his head.
Junior returned the hug, glancing up at both Tucker and Washington fondly, "Dads!"
Tears were in their eyes at hearing the usually mute Junior's voice for the first time in what was forever, and suddenly as Tucker was in the process of hugging his son even more tightly, Washington had his arms wrapped around them both.
It was such a sweet sight, the fact that they were standing next to a large air transport that was about to blow up was nearly forgotten.
…That was, until the wind picked up all around them and another transport dropped from the sky, hovering just low enough that they could reach its open hatch with well-placed jumps.
"Better move your asses there, guys." A female voice currently unknown to Simmons spoke out over a comm-link from the newly arrived ship.
None of their group needed to be told twice, especially not with Carolina, Tex, and Sarge at the hatch of the transport ushering them all inside.
Before Simmons could really properly comprehend it all, he was sitting side-by-side with Grif on the fleeing airship, the baby now contentedly fast asleep in his arms. For the first time in a long while, he felt at ease. With the redhead not even being aware of it really, his head leaned against Grif's shoulder as the other man shifted so that he could get more comfortable.
Neither commented on it, nor did anyone else just then. After all, they were finally heading home.
Author's Notes: I hope that you enjoyed how the rescue missions ultimately played out! :D
Guys, guys! We just have one more prequel story to go and only TWO more chapters of this fic left in total. Are you excited to see if Grif and Simmons, along with all of their friends, get the happy endings they totally deserve after all of the angst and drama I have put them through? XD So am I, haha! :)
Thank you so much again for reading, and I hope you will enjoy the final three installments of this story-verse! :)