ic Poor Target

[Ecalsneerg]

Osla looked down the side of the building, breating hard. She didn't know if the man was alive or dead, but the fight couldn't have been prolonged. He was a professional, and she was already badly hurt. Most people would be dead by now. She clipped her bow back to her waist, glancing over at the pickup truck. If what the man had said was right, then the hunters were still free. But they wouldn't be the only ones. She needed information.

 

She picked up the sniper rifle and abruptly snapped it in half, tossing the pieces to the floor before dropping back into the alleyway. She glared down at the pick-up truck as she checked the mercenary's pulse on his neck. 

[Supercape]

GM

 

The pulse was there, although weak. Regular, too. On examination, he was breathing. That was always a good sign, although there was a slight gurgle to his breath. There was blood, from a broken leg with a splendid piece of bone sticking out. And one arm looked like it was bent in a very unusual way. 

 

But aside from broken bones and unconsciousness, there did not look like there was anything critical. He would need hospital treatment, and need it soon, but there was no immediate call for CPR. 

 

The pick up truck, meanwhile, was speeding away - and fast. It was cutting its losses - for now...

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk pondered. The man was in no danger of walking away on her. But if he wasn't going to die imminently... she could stop that truck, get the information, call the authorities to get the man medical treatment, and then proceed to bring the remainder of this operation to justice. And then she could attempt to sew up the wounds on her side and shoulder.

 

Ignoring the burning pains on her torso, she broke into a sprint, moving with a preternatural swiftness, not bothering to mask her footsteps as her boots thudded off the pavement, feet falling so quickly it was more like a continuous sound. Her cape was nearly perpendicular to the ground as she gave chase to the fleeing pickup truck.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The pick up truck had more raw speed than Arrowhawk, but it was far less agile. It was just about making headway, but had to turn, and lost speed. 

 

"Faster, faster!" yelled the man on the back, losing what shredded remains of his nerves he had left. He fired off a crossbow bolt which was wildly off aim, clanging helplessly and impotently against masonry. He was hardly an expert marksman, and even an expert marksman would struggle to even be vaguely on target under these circumstances. 

 

The Pick Up Truck had turned into a side street full of debris and was trying to pick up speed. Ahead, the main highway - where at least it could potentially out pace Arrowhawk, even if at perilous risk...

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk leaped over a pile of spilled garbage bags, landing hard and picking up the pace, close enough to be able to see the whites of the crossbowman's eyes. She couldn't say anything or ask it to stop, too focused on picking up enough speed quickly enough to get onto the damn truck. Her teeth were clenched and bared, cheeks flushed as she bore down on the truck.  She felt something splitting in her side, but wasn't sure if the wound had actually opened further, or if it was just the pain from pushing herself like this.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The truck turned into the highway, accompanied by the sound of furious horns and fearful screams. Cars roared past and the pick up truck skidded, burning rubber. 

 

"FASTER FOR GODS SAKE GO FASTER!!!!" screamed the man at the back, now scared out of his mind. 

 

The driver seemed to pick up on some of that horror, and put his foot on the gas. The highway was straight - or straight enough - that it could make full speed. 

 

It could make full speed on a straight road. But there were other cars on it. 

 

And not a hundred yards into the acceleration, the pick up truck hard to swerve left. Then right. Then left again, losing its control with every violent heave. Then, it turned, then it tumbled, going to a full roll. Four...five...six...times. And hit the back of a lorry carrying a shipment of Cherribomb! Lollipops. 

 

It was a bittersweet moment, then. As the truck up and the pick up stop and the whole highway screamed to a close. The pick up was a mess, crumpled and battered and flipped, with steam coming out of the radiator, petrol on the tarmac, and coated with a sprinkling of cheap sugary treats that had spilled out of the back of a truck. 

 

In all fairness, whilst Cherribomb Lollipops were cheap and unhealthy, they were rather tasty...

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk could only watch in horror, slowing herself and stopping short before she was caught up in the crash, able only to watch the car roll and roll... and roll... She froze for a moment in horror as the carnage unfolded. Why his they have to flee? Why didn't they just submit? Why didn't they just not do such a vile thing?

 

As soon as everything had ground to a halt, she rushed over to the pickup truck, peering inside, seeing the two men inside were in a sorry state. "Why didn't you just stop," she hissed, trying to assess the damage. 

[Supercape]

GM

 

The car - and the truck, were a complete right off - although there seemed to be no immediate danger of explosions, there was a risk of fire. As for the two bodies...

 

Well they were alive. She could tell that much. 

 

For now. 

 

One of them was merely smashed to pieces, with broken bones and wheezing lungs, still conscious, trying to crawl, inch by inch, away from the wreckage. He was in no shape to fight, that was for sure. He was hardly in shape to crawl. It would take him an hour to cover a dozen feet, the rate he was going - if he even made it that far without passing out. 

 

The other one - who had been in the back. 

 

He wasn't right at all. His breathing was shallow, he was bleeding profusely from a compound fracture of the femur, and was out cold. It looked like he was about to expire...

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk walked up to where the unconscious man was trapped in the vehicle, clearly in awful shape. She reached out and ripped off the already dented and damaged door, tossing it to the side where it clattered into the damaged asphalt. 

 

Her eyes flicked up and down his body, assessing his injuries, before dispassionately tearing at his clothing, getting a bundle of cloth as she tried to staunch the bleeding. She was no battlefield surgeon, hell she wasn't even a medic, but this was the best she could possibly do right now.

[Supercape]

GM

 

It was a dirty job. Quick, and dirty. The man was sure to get an infection. Probably a sepsis. But that could wait. For now, at least, he had enough fluid for his heart to pump. He had enough oxygen for his brain to stay alive. And that was good enough. 

 

He was still out cold, however. 

 

The distant sounds of sirens crept through the air. Not near, but on their way. 

 

The other hunter tried to crawl away, leaving a trail of blood. It was not dangerous bleeding. And, from his perspective, it was a jolly good thing he was leaving a trail of blood rather than his entrails. But he was in no danger of getting away. This was just primal instinct. To run. 

 

"Help...help..." he asked. 

 

He had no right to ask for help. He was fortunate to be alive. But he still asked. 

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk finished up, stopping only when she was sure the man would live. Even if he was a monster, it wasn't her place to leave him to die. Especially when his comrade was moving so very, very slowly. 

 

Turning and casually strolling after him, she didn't bother to be silent, letting her boots clump on the concrete. She circled around, stopping in front of the crawling man, glaring down at him. Her blue eyes pierced through the shadows under her cowl. "So. Did this go as planned?" asked the Arrowhawk, her voice harsh and sharp.

[Supercape]

GM

 

"Uhhh...no..." said the man, weakly. 

 

Up close, if one ignored the blood stains and broken nose, he looked like an average middle aged man. In reasonable shape, but not exceptional. Clean shaven, short hair. Probably looked decent in a suit. Probably wore a suit pretty often. 

 

"Look...I don't wanna die....uhhh....just don't kill me....just take me to a hospital...Ill pay whatever you want....uhhhh..." he groaned. 

 

"Oh my god it hurts. It feels like I shattered my legs. Uhhh...I have still got my legs, right? I don't dare look..." he complained, white faced. 

 

Whatever he said, his spinal cord seemed intent on making him crawl away, despite the logic of the situation. 

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk snarled, crouching and gripping the man by the throat. She painfully forced his head up to look at her, staring him right in the eye with a burning fury. "If I meant to kill you, you and your friend would long be enjoying the luxuries of Helheim." She tightened her grip a little, but didn't use nearly the amount of strength her enchanted gauntlets would allow her to bring to bear.

 

"Your hunt ends tonight. And you will tell me where it is. And who is involved. And how to stop them." Arrowhawk leaned in close, until her nose was nearly touching the wounded man. "And then, and only then, will I consider alerting the authorities."

[Supercape]

GM

 

The man almost deflated in relief at the words. He wasn't keen on dying. Not dying seemed extremely good news. 

 

But. 

 

"I...uh....don't know" he blubbered. "I mean, they are on the road. We bid for the first shot. We won tonight" he said. "The others will not be far behind" he explained. "And the metal head. He is last. He organises it all..."

 

He gulped. 

 

"When I say metal head, I don't mean he likes Dragonblades of Hell, or has a tattoo of Skull Crushed Brains" he explained. "He has a metal head. A mask or something. Freaky guy...." he said. 

 

"If we failed, they will be after the woman. And they got this guy. Some little rat with a nose as big as your fist. He can sniff out anything. Call him the nose. You can work out why. He can track anyone faster than a bloodhound. Quite a trick, but makes him ugly as your backside..."

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk shook her head in contempt. "You really had this all planned out. A nice little arrangement. Low men wanting to hunt for sport, but not wanting to actually get a battle from it. So dishonorable." She stood up, callously letting the man's head drop, rapping off the cement for a moment. 

 

"How do I find them?" she asked, eyes scanning the distance, only half paying attention to the defeated man sniveling on the floor.

[Supercape]

GM

 

"Pick up the trail...where we were. Maybe they are they already. Or will arrive soon. Or maybe they have caught up. They will be following the woman...wherever she went....they will follow. Nobody escapes the nose!" he said, wide eyes and full of fear. 

 

"Oh my Gods, it hurts!" he groaned, the pain kicking in harder now. "You will let me live, right?" he said, defaulting back to self preservation mode. "I want to live. Ill pay you. Oh Gods, I'll pay you. What do you want? Anything? Daddy's a judge....he can help you out!" he said, offering more than money in order to sweeten the deal. 

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk sneered down at the man. She was going to phone for help anyway, but there was no sense throwing away perfectly good leads. "What judge?" she asked with cold indifference layering her voice.

 

It'd be good to know what judge would be happy to know what his son was up to. Especially if it would act as leverage to get him to actively do his role properly. A corrupt judicial system was a constant thorn in her side.

[Supercape]

GM

 

"Ah...uh.....oh...." gulped the young man. "I mean....yeah, a rich and powerful one. Ah...." he wailed. 

 

"I mean Judge Cooper! Just don't go saying his name, right! He's just my dad. That's all" he said, real fear in his eyes now. In this, Arrowhawk had the firm sense that however imposing or intimidating she might be, she could not compete with decades of trained fear that had been insidiously, or indeed explicitly, drummed into the mans skull over his years. 

 

"He can help me...and you, if you let me go!"

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk cocked her head, an eyebrow raised. "Help you? You just revealed your identity to me. Your mercenary shot me, and it didn't prevent me chasing down your vehicle on foot. I am not one of the police. I know what crimes his son has committed. He has no influence over me." She bent over to get closer to the prone man. "How exactly will be help you, I wonder?"

 

Satisfied that he wasn't going to go anywhere, she began to stride off towards the cab of the truck that the vehicle had collided with. "An ambulance and the authorities. Call them," she instructed the driver. 

[Supercape]

GM

 

And thusly, foreso, and thenceafter....

 

Little had changed in the Alley in the few minutes she had gone. It was still full of rubbish and rats and perfumed with the alcohol and urine. 

 

And the sniper was still on the ground, quite unconscious. Possibly worse, one could not tell from this distance. 

 

But the two men loading him onto the back of a pick up truck might. 

 

The two men looked a little more professional than the rick kids. Mercenaries, hired hands, referees. Probably scum. Unless emergency services came packing handguns and wore black turtlenecks. 

 

Then again, this was Bedlam. 

 

With even a cursory glance, Arrowhawk could tell that two other vehicles had arrived soon after she had left, and departed almost straight away, leaving behind the two men and their pick up to take care of the Sniper who had taken a tumble. 

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk decided to get a closer look. Two men were unlikely to arrive in two vehicles, given the previous team had been working as a three. And in any case, her shoulder was still aching from the bullet wound in it. She pulled her cloak around her, fading into the night as she crept forward, taking care not to make a sound, edging up behind the two men to inspect their armament, and to inspect any potential backup. She daren't breathe, lest she end up in another one-sided fight.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The two men packed the sniper onto the Pick Up Truck. One was tall, one was short. Both were strong, both were armed, and both were wearing cool black clothes. 

 

Black, it seemed, was the new black. 

 

"So we get to pick up the garbage" complained the short one, swinging up the last leg of the Sniper. 

 

"Stop complaining. Its better than listening to those rich dicks complaining. Or celebrating" said the Tall one, more content with his lot. 

 

"Is it? Least we get to see some action. Even get to do some killing, if we are lucky" said the Short one, satisfied that the Sniper was secure. 

 

"Never had the taste myself" said the Tall one. "Not since Iraq. Its about the money, for me..."

 

"Suit yourself" grunted the Short one. "Lets wheel this guy out. Metal Head wants him patched up, so I guess that's what we get paid for...."

 

They both grunted an agreement on the matter, and started packing up to leave. 

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk seized the opportunity. She waited until the men had got into their vehicle before sliding into the back of the pick-up, gingerly avoiding sitting on the sniper she'd previously knocked out. One hand clutched her bow closely to her, wanting to avoid it clacking off the metal of the truck. Even invisible, she wasn't inaudible. The other gripped on tightly, knowing she wouldn't get an opportunity like this, to perhaps see where the base of operations was. Assuming, of course, the base was where they took their injured.

 

She sat tight, watching and listening keenly, almost motionless. She had all night to wait this out.

[Supercape]

GM

 

Arrowhawk landed without sound, right be the sniper who looked a sorry state. 

 

The Pick Up started to roll down the alley, engine purring nicely as the two goons sat in the front. 

 

"You think we should drop him off with the fixer back at base?" asked the tall one. 

 

For a moment, Arrowhawk though the short one, who was driving, was going to look back to examine the bleeding mess next to her. But, thank goodness, he was a sensible and responsible driver, for he kept his eyes on the road. 

 

"Hey, I just do what I am told. Clean this up! he said. Its clean. Bit of blood on the road, but nothing the Cops will get worried about. We just here to make sure no bodies lying around. The cleaning crew. Huh. Wish I could get carving with a knife instead...hell, if I make enough money, maybe I'll take a run some day. Gotta get a discount for services, surely?"

 

"Don't think it works like that" said the Tall one, turning his head away, not best pleased with his short partner. 

 

"We ain't paid to think" said the Short one, driving on. "Lets just get catch up with Metal Head, see what he wants us to do...."

 

And thus, a few minutes later...

 

The two men kept in Radio contact with the main hunting party, and soon caught up through the dark night side streets. Arrowhawk could see two more pick ups ahead, with maybe a half dozen hunters in and around them, searching for the woman. 

 

One man stood apart, in the shadows but clear to Arrowhawks vision. A man in an overcoat and a hat, dressed in dark purple, with a head of duill dark metal that glinted slightly in the moonlight. It was an angular head, and one could not know if it was a true head of metal, or merely an imposing mask that looked like it had been dreamt up in a medieval torture chamber. He hardly moved, just stood there, with his hands in his pockets, and an immobile steel face. 

Edited March 23, 2018 by Supercape

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk slid out of the truck, a hand sliding behind her back and under her cape. It came out holding a wooden-hafted axe, gripping it in the middle of the haft. Slowly, making sure she was unnoticed, she hacked it into the rear tyre of the truck, and then moving forward, into one of the front ones.

 

She kept low, moving slowly and silently, ducking in and out of shadows, to give the same treatment to the other trucks. She was grossly outnumbered, and didn't know if the man in the metal mask was a mere mortal or not. She suspected this may not be the case. Normal people didn't have heads like that. Or if it wasn't his head, normal people didn't wear masks like that. Keeping one eye watching him warily, she cut into another tyre, and moved on to the next.