Better Watch Out, Better Not Cry
Antonia narrowed her eyes. Cars continued to drive up and down the street, some stopping in front of the building in which the Maxquerade was being held, valets driving the cars off once the occupants had left, but even that had trickled down.
So when several cars came to a stop and a lot of men stepped out, that caught the older Calabrese sibling's attention. The gathering was making their way into the building—and they were armed. One shoved a valet out of their way, not even caring for the cry of surprise that came out of the young man's throat.
She was sitting up in her seat, a hand going to a gun to check it.
Nick seemed to notice. "What's got your panties in a twist?" Following where she was looking, "Don't those look like some rough-looking guys."
"Get your gun," she ordered, a hand going for the door handle.
"Really? You're serious?" Nick glanced back to her, then groaned. "Of course you are." The younger sibling patted where he himself kept his own gun and then opened the passenger side door.
By then, Antonia was already out, letting the engine continue running. They might need a quick escape and she wasn't concerned about it being taken. Her strides were long and wide, carrying her down the sidewalk quickly. She shoved her way past the valets, one might have called after her, but she did not listen.
Behind, Nick was nearly jogging after all her, almost gliding around the irritated valets. "A little manners goes far," he called after her.
One of his arms was jerked back by a valet who didn't seem to be in the mood to be walked over or around. "Who do you think you are, asshole?" the harried man demanded.
Pausing, Nick looked back, then lowered a hand to pull back a flap of his jacket, showing off the handle of the gun he carried. Raising an eyebrow, "Does that answer your question?"
The tone of his voice may have been casual, but the edge in it was far from friendly. The valet's eyes stared holes at the firearm, then slowly he retracted his arm, the valet's buddies backing away slowly.
Lowering the jacket flap, Nick remarked, "Merry Christmas," and continued to follow his sister.
Antonia had ignored the encounter. She had eyes on the men that entered the building prior. She knew the swagger of a made man anywhere. That large a group? And with one she recognized as belonging to Riley, there was no way they were friendly.
There was only one reason they would be here.
Red-and-blue lights flashed, bathing Bamyung Plaza in its glow. There were only a couple of cop cars, no need for heavy-handed force seeing as the incident had been resolved.
Arthur Brown trudged through the plaza, his hands restrained by handcuffs. There was a dead look on his face, as if he were in a daze. His crime spree had come to a screeching halt, and he was about to experience the consequences of it. It seemed realization was sinking in.
As he was led to one of the squad cars, its back passenger door opened so that Brown would be forced in, three vigilantes watched from a nearby rooftop.
There was something bittersweet about all of this. Batgirl was glad this budding Cluemaster had been dealt with before he caused a city-wide crisis. That was a good thing. However, this hollow victory had come at the expense of her friend, Spoiler. That was her father getting placed in the police car. Her life, as she knew it, was going to change.
Spoiler just stared down at the car and her father, her eyes not giving away her thoughts. The mask that covered the bottom of her face didn't allow for any clues as to her mental state. Glancing behind her head, Batgirl looked to Bluebird for any clue as to how to handle this. The blue-clad girl had a worried look on her face, and she looked just as lost as she felt.
The sound of car doors slamming shut filled the plaza, followed by the cop cars driving off. Their lights were turned off shortly after, leaving the Batclan on its own. "So what now?" Spoiler ended up asking as she turned her head to face the team's leader.
"I'm not sure," Batgirl admitted. Honestly, she wasn't. She had once heard she couldn't show such indecisiveness as a leader, but honestly, she wasn't certain how to handle all of this. Never had she thought they would be arresting a loved one to a member of the team. It was a possibility since you could never one hundred percent rule something out, but it should have been remote, improbable, most likely to never happen.
"The better question is if we should keep going tonight," Bluebird supplied. "This can't have been easy for you, Steph."
"I'm fine," the blonde girl immediately responded. It felt rushed, forced even. She was clearly putting up a front.
"It's not everyday someone sends their own dad to jail, ya know," the blue-haired girl gently reminded her.
"It's no less than he deserved," Spoiler forced herself to say. "You can't commit crimes and not experience the consequences. It wouldn't be right."
"Perhaps it wouldn't be terrible to call the night off early," Batgirl suggested. "A debrief would be—"
"No," Spoiler cut her off, almost angry, desperate even. "I…I need to do something. If I don't, all I'm going to do is think about this over and over and over, and I don't want that. Please. Let's…let's go find some carjacker, or mugger, or someone. Just don't call this off early because of me."
Batgirl was thankful her mask hid her face, specifically her eyes. She couldn't help but glance over her teammate's shoulder to Bluebird, the look going unnoticed. The taser rifle's inventor just shrugged her shoulders in response, not being much help at all.
"Alright," she relented. "Word most likely hasn't spread of this yet, so if we head for the Narrows, we'll most likely—"
"Batclan, come in."
All three girls perked up at the sudden hail from Oracle. Automatically, Batgirl raised a hand up to press it against the side of her head, activating her comm link. "This is the Batclan."
"I've got a hit on something big happening and you're the closest team to it. Start heading downtown. There's a party for Gotham's rich and wealthiest, something called the Maxquerade Ball. Our latest and future Arkham crazy is crashing the party and they have guns."
"Should we choose to accept this mission, this message will self-destruct in ten seconds," Bluebird quipped over the line. Then to the two other Batclan members, "I think we found Spoiler's distraction."'
"Why is it my distraction?" the lavender girl retorted, frowning at the blue-haired girl.
"Hey, we all had to distract ourselves when our dads first went to prison. I had to comfort Cullen; Batgirl tore apart the city looking for Lady Shiva. You get to go punch some wacko holding up a party. Consider this your 'Welcome to the Club' present."
Huh, now that Bluebird mentioned, all three of their fathers had been arrested and served time. Admittingly, Batgirl's had been wrongfully accused, but it didn't take away from the fact they all had witnessed the same family member be incarcerated.
It seemed those words were what Spoiler needed to happen as she actually had a gracious look appear on her face. "Thanks, Bluebird."
"Anytime, girl. We've got your back."
Even though the other two weren't looking at her, Batgirl couldn't help but nod in agreement. "We're on our way, Oracle," she told the hacker.
There were a couple of shrieks intertwined with nervous mumblings. All the while, Scarface's men began to spread out, leering looks on their faces as they began to fan out. Some held their machine guns right in the faces of the party-goers, demanding they empty their pockets and purses.
"Now, we'ze not here for long, so long as ya cooperate," the dummy continued on. "Some of yas will have to fork over your money, your valuagles, as a tip for my entertainers. Otherwise, yas gecome part of the act, if ya catch my drift.
"Now, what we want is simple. Amongst you all is a dame, a groad, someone of the female persuasion. To be exact: a Calabrese groad. The soonah she shows her pretty, little face, we'll take her away and you can go gack to your party and start dancing…gadly."
Bruce immediately looked over to Selina. Her eyes had narrowed at Scarface's announcement. He was looking for her specifically, and he had a good idea as to why. However, it was readily apparent that Selina wasn't going to stand for being hunted down as she began to draw away from him.
Only to stop. A couple of Scarface's goons, the ones that were doing their job in earnest, were working their way through the crowd. Glancing the other way, Bruce saw a couple more. They were slowly getting pincered in.
The dark-haired man drew up next to the hunted woman. "Don't make any sudden moves," he whispered to her.
"And just wait for them to find me?" she shot back, keeping her voice low. "Like hell."
There were a few cries as one of the goons shoved his gun into the face of an elderly woman. "Don't hold back on me, lady!" he spat at her.
"All you're going to do is out yourself faster, and they have guns," he was quick to remind her.
"So do I, if you don't remember."
"You have six shots at best; they have multiple machine guns that can fire around thirty bullets each. You don't stand a chance."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Just follow my lead."
By then, one of the thugs was closing in on them. Bruce reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, holding it up as he stepped in front of Selina. "Please, just leave us alone," he begged him, waving his wallet back and forth. "This is all of my money, so please, just take it."
The man's attention went right to the billfold. A look of greed was on his face. "Don't mind if I do," he said as he reached out for the wallet.
Instead of handing it over, Bruce "dropped" the wallet, making a show of it tumbling out of his hand and it falling to the floor. "I'm so sorry," he hastily apologized as a look of annoyance appeared on the goon's face. "I'm just—"
"Just shut up," the man growled as he began to kneel down to pick up the wallet.
"Don't worry, I'll get it," Bruce quickly added as he too knelt down to pick it up. However, he made certain to lean towards the man, nearly throwing himself at him. This caused the two of them to bash skulls against each other, Bruce landing the headbutt as pain erupted in his head.
"Gaah!" the goon shouted as he jerked himself back, a hand reaching up to clutch at his face.
"I'm so sorry!" the dark-haired man apologized again, quickly standing back up despite the disorientation he felt. He reached out to grab the man by his jacket, and then pulled on him to "help" right him. This just caused the man to stumble towards him, Bruce easily sliding to one side to avoid the two of them bumping into each other. However, he left his foot right where the thug would trip over it, which he did, causing him to stumble forward, and ultimately face-first into the wall.
And like that, the goon was down as he dropped to the floor limply. Expectedly, he heard an outraged shout as another thug began storming up to them.
"Please don't hurt us," Bruce begged as he stepped towards the approaching goon. "I was just—"
And then he "tripped." Lunging forward, eyes wide, Bruce fell in front of the man, his hands shooting up to grab onto the waistband of his pants. Despite the belt he wore, the pants were yanked down, exposing the man's boxers as his pants pooled around his ankles.
Yes, these were all "accidents." It wasn't that far off from what he had done when incarcerated in Blackgate and having to fight off the various prisoners there. No one could know that Bruce Wayne knew how to fight, so he had to fight while making everything look incidental. That was a fine line he had to follow.
Unfortunately, Selina held no such restraint. As Bruce looked up from the floor, essentially pinning the gunman's legs together with his pants, the blonde wig-wearing woman was suddenly right next to him, throwing a punch that slammed right into the thug's face. His upper body jerked backwards, his lower body staying in place. Eventually, something had to give and he tilted over and then fell. Bruce had to roll to one side to avoid a pair of feet from hitting him in the face. The man crashed down on the floor, the back of his head bouncing off of the tile.
Though it was direct and to the point, along with having the desired result, Bruce just looked up from where he laid and scowled. That fall would only draw more attention, much more than the first man he had dispatched. As if to prove his point, there were more of Scarface's men swarming around them, rather than the one or two that it would have been.
"Hey, I found the bitch!" one of them shouted.
Just great. This was going to get harder to deal with. Bruce then pushed himself up onto his feet, and turned to resume the fray.
Behind one of the tables that allowed partygoers to sit down, relax, and chat, without needing to remain standing for the duration of the party, Max Shreck knelt down as close to the floor as he could. His pride and joy, Chip was right next to and behind him, an arm pressing down on the older Shreck's back to keep him low.
The business mogul, though, couldn't help himself. He had to peek around the knocked over table to keep watching the violence that was happening. The ventriloquist's gangsters were putting up the pressure, unafraid to shoot their guns any time they caught sight of the woman that had been the thorn in his side. So far she had been able to dance around it all, keeping lucky and sometimes knocking over one of the gangsters.
Funnily enough, Bruce Wayne was in the mess of it. Plenty of opportunity to run for his life, yet it seemed like whenever he was able to do that, he was pulled back into fighting. Or was he pulled back? Was he intentionally weaving himself back into it? That didn't make any sense.
It also looked like he was trying to protect Selena Calabrese.
Well, it would look better if Wayne were to be injured—
A whizzing bullet sliced through a portion of his turban, and Chip was pulling him back, hissing. That had been close. Also, he could play that to his advantage, another almost tragedy that would take any and all suspicion off of him.
He couldn't help it. He gave a short laugh.
This was working out far better than he had hoped!
The gunshots gave away what was going down. It also told the two Calabrese siblings where they needed to go.
Not bothering to hide their guns, the pair made their way to the large room full of screaming people and gangsters trying to take a shot at their boss. It was impressive that Selina had managed to last this long. Then again, the woman had the skills for a similar kind of situation.
However, it was their job to keep her safe and this is where Antonia would shine. It took a second to aim and a single shot to take down the first enemy, a definitive Riley. Not the man himself, but one of his own. Finding the next one was easy; anyone armed here was here to kill and she was no different.
Slowly she crept forward, taking single shots as she did so. It wasn't easy, not with the partygoers trying to save their own skins and they would get in the way, her bullets clipping or even hitting one of them. She was too disciplined to care.
Nick, on the other hand, was too carefree and didn't care who he got just as long as he could help clear a path for Selina to make her way to them. He shot without abandon, hitting anyone and everyone he could. This caused more people to scream and began to draw the attention of the traitorous mobsters.
Damn, now her attention needed to be on them, taking them down before they could get off a shot. She fired a few more, then ducked down, using the people around to act as human shields. None of them were of her concern. If they couldn't be bothered to act with any sense and keep low, or better yet out of the way, they deserved what was coming for them.
Up ahead, she managed to spot a man that didn't seem to belong…well, anywhere. He was holding some kind of wooden puppet. It was…bizarre.
But in this city, bizarre also meant dangerous. What were the odds he was the one in charge? Shoot him, that would put dissent in the ranks. Perhaps enough to distract the rest of the band of armed men to get Selina to safety?
It was worth a try. However, it seemed one of the strange man's goons noticed her. Average looking, didn't have the same swagger as a real gangster would, but career criminal he was. Probably a freelancer who managed to get in early. Regardless, he began shooting an automatic weapon and so Antonia had to dive for cover.
Bullets whizzed about, and the Calabrese woman crawled to try and keep low. People who hadn't been able to leave, too busy to shove themselves through the nearest exit found themselves being mowed down, their bodies falling on top of her. It provided protection of the meat variety, however, it meant that she was buried and couldn't return fire. Not immediately.
That left Nick—
Nick!
Her brother! He hadn't ducked down in time and—his body were jerking from the bullets that struck him, blood spraying out and…
Now he was down, lying amidst the carnage.
Any thoughts of finding Selina were gone. For once…for once Antonia did not think about who gave her her orders or who needed to be made an example of. She may not have always liked or approved how Nick presented himself, and while he was a bit more…different with how he followed instructions, he still got the job done. And…and…
He was still her brother.
A moment of hesitation and shock seemed to have convinced the shooter that they were no longer a threat, and he instead returned to doing what he had been up to before. This and only this allowed Antonia to pull herself out and reach for her fallen sibling.
If there was a chance to save him, then…
A grunt escaped from Bruce's mouth as he was slammed against a wall. One of Scarface's thugs shoved his forearm up against his neck, choking him somewhat. A second man pointed his handgun at his forehead, and he knew he couldn't fight much longer.
Selina wasn't much better, though she had three guns—two handguns and one machine gun—pointed at her head as a goon restrained her from behind. Her eyes were like burning jades as she glared at them.
The fighting had gotten bad, he was sad to admit. Gunfire had broken out and there were people lying on the floor, victims of the violence. A couple of people Bruce recognized as Selina's inner circle had tried to intervene, but that had only made things worse.
"Well, well, well," the ventriloquist dummy declared. His ventriloquist approached them, silent as ever. "You twos were really fighting there, weren't ya? I wasn't expecting that from a dame, but consider me impressed, lady."
"Try me yourself and I'll really show you a fight," Selina sneered.
"Ha! Like some groad could take me!" The dummy then swung himself to the other side of the ventriloquist, his arms moving him from his right to his left, which put the dummy's eyes right on Bruce. "And you're a regular Galahad, ain't ya? Doesn't look like it's worked out too well for yas, does it?"
"Can't say that it has," the dark-haired man agreed.
"You tried your best, even hurt a couple of my goys. I can respect that, even if it was dumg luck." Scarface nodded his head, his eyes closing. Then the eyes snapped back open. "Gut now yous has ta pay for what ya did to my goys." His head then tilted to one of the goons. "Put a gullet in Galahad here."
"Yes, Sir," the thug replied, a nasty grin on his face. The thug adjusted his grip on the gun he had pointed at the billionaire's head, his finger beginning to pull on the trigger.
Alright, enough was enough. Bruce was done trying to play this right. No way was he going to get shot in the head trying to pretend he was someone he was not. He'd do damage control later, which he would do so long as he was alive.
Before he could make a move though, the sound of breaking glass filled the room.
Heads jerked around, followed by some guns. Bruce just had to tilt his head and saw a black blur flying into the room, landing on the floor in a storm of broken glass. It only took the older man a moment to recognize Batgirl, the young girl landing crouched on the floor, both of her hands pressed down on the floor to help her keep balance. One was touching the floor just before her feet, the other extended out, making her appear hunched over, her cape falling over her lithe form.
And then Bluebird and Spoiler were behind her, the two standing on either side of her, the former with her large taster rifle pointed at thugs, the latter crossing her arms in front of her, each hand holding up bat-shaped shuriken. They stood there, as if they were posing for a picture, albeit for only a split-second. Behind them, Max's guests were scrambling to the left or right so that they weren't behind the three girls, none of them interested in becoming collateral damage.
"Who the hell are—" the Scarface dummy shouted as he spun around to face the girls, the ventriloquist seemingly jerking his body behind him as if he were the one being pulled around.
"The Calvary is here!" Bluebird declared before she began firing short bursts of electricity, firing her rifle over and over even as she began moving to one side. Many of the thugs jumped to one side or the other to dodge the electrical discharges, but a couple weren't so lucky as they were hit. Their bodies stiffened from the electrical currents, their teeth chattering before they dropped to the floor.
Spoiler then threw her shuriken, darting in the opposite direction as Bluebird, reaching to her belt to pull out more. Batgirl, however, charged forward, keeping herself low as she streaked towards the gangsters.
A couple of the men managed to get shots off, but were stopped as Spoiler's shuriken struck their gun hands, disarming them as they yelped from pain. By that point, Batgirl had closed the distance between her and them. Leaping into the air, the dark-clad girl went into a flip that sent her over two of the men who were standing next to each other. The moment she was completely upside down, her feet over her head, the girl reached down with both hands, one grabbing onto the side of each man's head, and then she cracked their skulls against each other. The three of them fell to the floor, the two goons in an unconscious heap, Batgirl completing her flip as she landed back on her feet.
Show-off, Bruce couldn't help but think. Still, the corner of his mouth twitched up in bemusement at his daughter's showmanship.
The moment the dark-clad girl landed on the floor, crouching once more, she pulled out her grapple gun, holding it with both hands. In an instant, she fired it right towards the ventriloquist, the older man gasping as he tried to jerk his way out of the line of fire.
His movement, however, put his dummy right in the path of the grapple claw somewhat. The claw struck the right check of the dummy, glancing off of it. However, the force of the hit flung the dummy out of the man's grasp, sending it hurling through the air. A piece of the dummy's face broke off from the impact, sending it flying in a different direction.
"Mr. Scarface, no!" the ventriloquist cried out as he went running after the dummy.
The dummy struck the floor, bouncing across it. "I'm hit, goys!" it cried out as it ended up lying on its side, one leg awkwardly raised up and lying on top of its side, the other extended out. One of its arms was pointing in the same direction as its leg, the other arm hiding behind its back. Bruce, however, could see a gash on its face, which revealed the inside of the doll's head.
"Shoot that bitch!" one of the thugs shouted, which caused the rest of the men to point their guns at her. Batgirl just turned her head to look at them before she swung one of her arms out from her body. She was holding her grapple gun with the hand of the swinging arm, which sent the extended grapple cable swinging through the air towards the men. This caused them to hesitate from shooting her immediately, many of them ducking down to avoid getting hit by the line.
All except for the one that was restraining Selina. The woman actually threw herself forward so that she was leaning down. This forced the goon restraining her to move with her, which ended up with him getting hit in the side of his face with the grapple claw. The man cried out as he let Selina go to clutch at his face, the wig-wearing woman ducking low to the ground then. An instant later, and the pain-stricken goon was hit with an electrical discharge courtesy of Bluebird.
Bruce took this chance to move into action. Jerking his head to one side to avoid taking an accidental shot to his head, he shoved his arms up to grab the lapel of the man pinning him to the wall. This surprised the thug as he returned his attention to him.
Bruce pulled the thug to one side, specifically right into the gun arm of his friend. This pushed the gun to one side, the sudden movement surprising the gunman as he fired a shot, one that went right into the wall next to Bruce. With more room to work with, Bruce took a step back, which removed the arm that was pressed against his throat. He then stepped forward pulling on the thug to force him towards him. Lowering his head, the dark-haired man felt his opponent's face ram against the top of his head, causing him to cry out.
Bruce then threw his leg up, ramming his knee into the thug's gun, knocking the air out of his lungs. He then finished him off by pulling him down, though he kept his leg up. The goon dropped to his knees, but not before his face slammed into the dark-haired man's raised knee. He crumpled into a heap on the floor.
By then, the gunman was pointing his gun back at Bruce. Shooting his hands up, he managed to grab the gunman by the wrist with one hand, and the other grabbing onto the gun. He shoved the weapon upward, where it fired another shot, this one going up into the ceiling. Raising a foot up, he then kicked it against the side of the gunman's knee, causing it to buckle as the man cried out. Bruce sidestepped as the man fell forward, falling into the wall. Letting go of the man's wrist and gun, the dark-haired man then moved one hand to the back of the gunman's head and pulled it back before slamming it hard against the wall. He did this a couple more times before he let go, letting his foe slump down to the floor.
Suddenly, a man crashed into the wall on Bruce's opposite side. Jerking his head to look at the body, he then turned around and found Batgirl and her Batclan had done some damage against Scarface's crew. Many of the men were lying on the floor in various states of unconsciousness. Many were suffering from heavy doses of electricity. Others had growing welts on their foreheads, no doubt from taking shuriken to their heads. Glancing around, Bruce could see Bluebird using the butt end of her rifle as she pounded it against one man's face. Spoiler was in another part of the room, using a rather effective combo that knocked the air out of her opponent's lungs, right before she reached both hands up and grabbed the man at the back of his neck. She pulled him down so that she could ram her knee into his gut.
As for Batgirl, she had thrown herself into the crowd of goons around Selina and…well, they were all lying on the floor, groaning from pain. The dark-clad girl was rising up onto her feet, looking down at them for a moment before she turned her attention away.
However, it was at that moment that Bruce realized he didn't see Selina there.
Jerking his head back and forth, he realized he didn't see her anywhere. In fact, he didn't see Scarface and his ventriloquist either.
It seemed someone had given them the slip—two someones.
The engine was roaring, tires squealing against asphalt as the car screeched away. Antonia was at the wheel, pedal to the metal, and racing away from that shitshow behind them.
Selina was in the backseat, leaving Max's Maxquerade the same way she had arrived at it. The only difference here, though, was that she had company in the backseat. It was Nick, his entire front a bloody mess, and wheezing coming out of…well…it was hard to say. Sounded like a lung might have been hit. Fuck.
She had not pictured that this was how this night would end. Blood spilling, yes, but Max's. Not Nick's. Not this annoying cousin. Regardless, it hadn't been her intention to get the guy shot either. In another life, she wouldn't have even given him the time of day.
In this life, where despite the cavalier attitude, he had done a lot for her. Didn't need to, could have raised up a stink, but he had gone along with it. Had helped to push along the power plant scheme and everything, and now here he was bleeding out in the backseat of a car, screw its high end status or brand.
It was hard to say she cared for him as a person, but nevertheless he was one of hers, and she took care of what was hers. That was why she was trying to stymie the blood loss. Apply pressure, but with the amount of wounds here, that was so much easier said than done.
Goddamn it. Goddamn it all. Why the hell were things falling apart now?
"Could really go for a drink…right about now," Nick commented, a drop of blood leaking out of his mouth and trailing down his chin. "Something stiff. Something strong. Minibar?"
"Keep your eyes open and I'll give you a glass of the strongest stuff in your life," Selina told him. Beside her, a first aid kit was sprawled out on the seat, contents spilling out. Bandages, why did there seem to be too few bandages? Hoping to use them to keep up pressure was a dying one; the medical cloth was soaking in crimson liquid like it was going out of style.
From the front of the vehicle, "Where?"
There was no need to ask what that meant. Where meant where did they go? Seek out help? A hospital would wind up becoming a damn morgue, and Scarface, that freakshow, had already showed he didn't care about collateral damage. That hold up and robbery was just cover for an assassination attempt. Bystanders would be unlucky, and she wasn't about to put sick people in the line of fire. They had it bad enough as it was.
The penthouse…but if trying to kill her tonight meant anything, they could be more waiting for her to show up there, gun her down getting out of the car or doing it Bonnie and Clyde style. No place could be considered safe. Not anymore.
What about…no. Not there. A last resort for herself, and even then, it would be the same reasoning as the hospital. What about back alley help? No regulation, crappy tools, might as well take Nick to a morgue instead. Where? Where was safe? What could be secure? Treated as a fortress? Be able to see anyone coming a mile away?
Where to go. Where to…prepare for war. A place for a fight. A last stand. Maybe a trap if done right. Home field advantage. Maybe it could work.
"Start heading out of town," she told her cousin. Antonia didn't make eye contact with the rearview mirror though her hand did tighten on the steering wheel. "Make for the plant. Spread word to anyone still on our side to gather there. That's where we're going to start taking it back. All of it. If that was truly Scarface back there, then we're going to turn both him and his stooges into mulch."
"And Nick?" Short and direct, Antonia wasn't messing around.
"Yeah. And Nick?" Nick agreed, eyes drooping.
Two seconds was all it took to think of this. "Call Chris. I'll do it. Get him to get his hands on a doctor and we'll try to stabilize. I don't care if we have to rob a Walgreens for meds. We'll do what we have to. Nick, don't you dare fall asleep on me. I'll get some salt and wake you up that way if you think you're going slip out this way. Just keep driving. We'll get this taken care of."
"Whoop…pie," Nick drawled, skin paling and paling.
Now to keep him alive. Keep him alive long enough for some kind of help. Any kind of help. Her hand was searching for a phone, and one was tossed from the front of the car towards her. Selina snatched it up, trying to keep calm even as everything fell apart.
Even as Nick's eyes drooped closer and closer to shut.