Summary:Two mercenaries do something good for a change, but they spill a lot of blood in the process. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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If New York City is cocaine, Jersey is heroin. Maybe a bit more meth on the weekends.
Go figure, the Triad hangout where young women are being transported into the American sex trade is on the docks, not far from a fishery. The stench in the area is probably a big reason why their activities haven't gone noticed by local law enforcement, if bribery isn't a part of it either. It's 4:00 in the morning, but these docks are far enough from the nearest bar hopping district that even the Jersey weekend partiers have not footprint. For all intents and purposes, the warehouse and it's surrounding area is a wasteland.
A smelly wasteland.
Some time ago, a taxi cab picked up Domino on the other side of the Hudson. The cabbie, a middle eastern fellow, has the unfortunate bad luck of being on Wade Wilson's speed dial. As the cab rolls down the dark streets, it's radio is playing a live number by Peter Frampton called 'Do You Feel Like We Do', and Deadpool has his mask rolled up to his nose, loudly chewing bubble gum.
Of course, getting a ride from Wade's personal cabbie can only mean one thing for Domino…
She gets to sit in the back.
The albino is slouched in fairly epic fashion with half of her back resting against the door and a leg angled sideways across the back bench seat. Arms are folded whether due to being cold or her being irritated.
The music, the gum-chewing, the smells of the Jersey coast, it's all a very authentic experience, but sooner or later her patience slips enough that she announces "I could have driven myself, you know."
At least there's wifi! Though as the cab draws nearer to their destination her attention goes toward the windows, already getting the lay of the land for when things go sideways (and knowing these two and the Triad they WILL go sideways.)
"Last time I butted heads with the T's was in Madripoor. I'll bet the guys out here don't have a sense of humor, either."
Hey, if the cabbie didn't need to know what was going down here then Wade shouldn't have called a cab! If it happens to become a problem it also happens to be a one bullet solution.
"Oh, hush." Wade spins around in his seat, eyeballing Domino with those oddly angled, white eye sockets in his mask. "Dopinder's a great fall guy."
"I am much more than a fall guy," the cabbie argues. "I give the best rides and my car always smells like roses and-"
Wade's head darts toward the driver. "You hush, too. Don't force me into an OutKast reference."
"What is Out-"
"Shhh." Wade lowers the finger from his lips, then spins around to face Domino again. "Madripoor! They're a tough bunch. Ever try the ones in Japan? They really don't have a sense of humor." His head spins around to the cabbie again. "Stop!"
The can abruptly slams to a stop, three blocks away from their destination.
The way that Deadpool handles the situation is rather peculiar, but then again so is he. There Domino sits, staring back at him with brows raised and an idle smirk pinned to her expression as if waiting through a long and difficult set-up for what MUST be a punchline worthy of such suffering.
Japan? "Yeah, I've spent some time—Gah!"
In the next instant the albino finds herself sprawled out sideways across both back seat footwells, neatly jammed into place behind Dopinder.
"Next time, Uber…" she darkly mutters while clawing her way clear of the dreaded New York Cab floorboard.
..Huh. Someone left a Zippo back here! She turns it around in a hand then shrugs and tucks it into a pocket. Their loss is her gain.
Once returned to an upright position she sits square in the middle of the rear bench and hooks her arms over the backs of each front seat, leaning forward to become more a part of the conversation. Starting with "What's with the brake-check? You know those don't have any cash value, right?"
"Seatbelts!" Wade unlatches his and let's it whip back into its holster. "Always buckle up, it's state law."
"He always does that," says Dopinder.
"I always do that," Deadpool answers in near tandem with the cabbie. "I just… you know, I get distracted. But, we're here now. At least as close as we should be. We go on foot from here!" He turns to Dopinder and nods his head dutifully. "Skycap."
In tandem, the two men depart from the cab and make for the trunk. Dopinder opens the trunk and unzips a large duffel bag, from which Deadpool produces two pistols, an assault rifle, three grenades and finally, his pair of katana blades and a whole bunch of extra clips. The weapons are attached to his body in various places, sometimes with Velcro. "Thank you, NASA," he quips, before turning to face Dopinder.
"Stay here. If any overzealous Jersey state troopers decide to give you any shit, just tell them you gave a ride to Captain America and his sidekick, Sebastian Stan. Don't ask, they're from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there's this whole Disney-Fox merger bullshit and it's so confusing even I don't know what's going down, so, just… just tell them that."
He turns toward Domino, assuming that she's also left the cab. "Really, Domino. Don't ask."
"Well look at Mister Model Citizen over here," Domino rolls her eyes. "I'm sure you've got permits for all of those guns, too."
She'd be grateful to be out of the cab if it meant being spared from further antics while also not stepping into an even -worse- smell. It gives her the chance to brush herself off at least, following the other two around to the back of the cab to reveal the collection of guns and goods which she had been referencing only seconds earlier.
Naturally if there's anything left over she'll make a move to help herself. She didn't have time to bring anything fancier than a pair of nine millimeters, okay?!
"Wasn't on the agenda" comes her easy reply. It's the tone of someone who's stopped paying attention to the conversation some time ago. "You boys have fun."
Rather than go through any sort of gear check or arming up montage she simply starts walking with confidence following each step. Because she's traveling light there's very little to slow her down! This morning's recon starts here and she wants an uninterrupted look before things have a chance to get ..complicated. Wade's pep-talk with the Cabbie should buy her a little time to have that coveted look-see.
There is plenty to choose from. Hopefully Dopinder is good at keeping eyes off the trunk of his cab.
(We'll let that one sink in a moment for those readers who have seen the movie)
"But, Mister Pool-"
"Hush. Remember, there's a reason I don't pay you. It's called Bail Money. Go on, go on. Back in the cab. Good boy." Deadpool turns then to see Domino walking on ahead, and he stares at her for a moment, dumbfounded. "Huh. Maybe I'm overarmed for recon."
He decidedly stuffs the assault rifle and two of the three grenades back into the duffel bag, then shuts the trunk. One final bubble is blown, before he spits the gum out into a nearby storm drain and tugs the mask down over his face. "Luck as a superpower," he mutters to himself, then cracks his neck and makes to catch up with her.
It always starts with one.
A Triad lookout holding an oldschool micro-Uzi suddenly disappears into the shadows with a stifled grunt of surprise. In the following struggle the magazine drops out of his gun and a couple of rounds bounce free when it hits the hard concrete, rolling away before the lookout drops at the albino's feet. Neena takes his gun and collects the mag, reuniting the pair with a softly sung "Thank yooou."
Not all of the lookouts are on ground level. A few have higher perches on second floor balconies. At least one is chilling out atop of a crane. Figuring out which shipping containers are the important ones isn't so tough, they're the ones being watched over like a couple of mice in a snake pit. One's already loaded onto the back of a flatbed trailer. Another is en route via crane.
That..would be a lot of people if they're both full…
With the crane in motion the low rumble of an incoming semi cab can be heard, lining up to connect to the trailer. With a softly voiced "Ah!" Domino starts heading in that direction. This will be so much easier if she can simply take the truck and go!
Where the hell did she - oh!
Deadpool is keeping close to the walls now, and has one of his pistols lifted and aimed before him, tracking his eye movements. "I still don't get it," he mutters under his breath. "Luck is not a super power. She's gotta be just, like, well trained. Probably Navy Seals." His eyes are taking stock of those guards up high, along with those down low. Finally, he reaches up to turn on their private comm channel.
"Recon's boring. I say we do this now. I can handle the fuck-knuckles up high. Also, it really stinks here and I wanna get this done. Deal?"
He doesn't necessarily wait for her to answer. Instead, he retrieves a silencer and screws it onto the end of his pistol, before grabbing the grapple from his belt. "Maximum effort," he says to himself, before ducking around the corner of the building behind him.
Out of sight from the lookouts, the grapple flies to the roof and latches. Moments later, Deadpool is rising the building in silence, save for the mutterings that continue under his breath, of channel. "I should'a never given Spidey those damn webshooters back. This would be so much fucking cooler."
Where Deadpool is sticking to cover Domino seems to not care, walking out in the open when necessary in pursuit of her mark.
"Agreed. We have everything we need. Loud and proud, Wade."
As the semi cab connects with the trailer and waits to be loaded the driver pulls out a cigarette, patting himself down in search of a lighter. He's almost more relieved than surprised when a slightly battered Zippo is handed up to him. He gets his light then sees the ghost of a face smiling back at him.
Before he can yell out a warning she's got the door open and is hauling him out from behind the wheel. Seatbelts!
He smacks the horn on the way through which puts more of the Triad on alert.
One steps around and sees the commotion by the cab, setting off into a run toward it when he slips on an errant nine millimeter bullet and flips over backward, cracking his head onto the ground while reflexively jamming down the trigger on his SMG.
The rounds spray upward and catch the crane operator through the glass. He slumps forward onto the controls and triggers the emergency release, the second container slamming down onto the trailer with a deafening *WHUM!*
The loss of the container causes the crane to shift unexpectedly, resulting in the one lookout slipping and falling with a scream. His rifle gets tangled up on the way down, ensnared in a ladder when his hand wants to keep going. A shot snaps out and punctures a large fuel tank back at ground level and begins to pour gasoline out across the concrete.
It happens to be flowing in the direction of a still lit Zippo which had been tossed aside during the skirmish with the truck driver.
"Hellooo, Kenworth" Neena says in a cheery voice while climbing behind the wheel and putting the rig into gear. Going back to comms, she radios "I've got the goods."
A fresh grapple line is fired from the neighboring rooftop to the target rooftop, and within moments, Deadpool is swinging down the line, one hand hooked over the cable, the other firing. The guards on their balconies end up meeting their fate with the classic one-two punch; one shot to the chest, two to the head.
A horn blows, and somewhat masks the curse that comes from Deadpool. "Shit!"
Out comes a grenade, his one grenade. "I hate blowing my load too early!" he shouts angrily, then pulls the pin.
Unfortunately, he bumped the comm open for that remark. How embarassing!
Moments away from throwing the grenade, he spots the crane operator's head turning into a spray of red and the lookout falling to the ground. "Fuck!"
She's got the goods? Already!???
"All I have is a live fucking grenade!" he cries back. "What the fuck am I gonna do with-"
At this point, Deadpool slams into the wall, having momentarily forgotten that he was sliding toward it on that grapple line. The grenade is dropped from his hand along with a meaty thud of flesh against brick, and the grenade rolls to a stop on the ground. This happens just as a group of four Triads rush out from a door, ready to open fire on Domino. A mere moment before they do, the grenade blows them all to bits.
The heat blast throws Deadpool off his line, and he goes tumbling toward the ground.
"TMI!" Domino radios back without skipping a beat.
Another Triad comes running out of cover to see what all of the commotion is about and unexpectedly meets the chromed grille of the big rig with a *THUD*, quickly going under the tires. It's nothing compared to Deadpool's grenade which quite literally frags another four! The passenger window blows out from the force then a moment later a severed hand lands upon the seat beside Neena. Holding something. It..kinda looks like a garage door opener..?
Up ahead is a closed gate barring access to the docks from the outside street.
Dom grabs the device and twists it free, the hand falling to the footwell with a meaty slop. She pushes the button and..what do you know! The gate starts to open. She'll have to slow down for it though and in the distance the sound of motorcycle engines revving to life can be heard.
"This is going too slow this is going too SLOOOOW—Now'd be a real good time to catch a ride, Wade!"
Headlights from a car in the side mirror brings forth a "-Fuck-" from her end, grabbing hold of the door and pushing it open long enough to swing out and dump some rounds through the stolen Uzi. The driver swerves under the fire and slides wide in front of the truck, colliding with the half open gate with enough force to wrench it free of its tracks and shove it safely out of the truck's way.
Back behind the wheel, door slamming closed, "The bus is leaving!" on the radio back to Wade who may or may not still be in one piece, and the smaller albino floors the bigger truck and takes this fight out onto the roads of New Jersey.
If Deadpool doesn't catch the rig there will be plenty of motorcycles to choose from!
Out comes a knife, and the grapple is cut free. Another line is loaded, and Wade fires it at the truck moments before hitting the ground. The line latches onto the truck's passenger door, but Deadpool falls to the ground with a painful sounding crunch. "Oh God!" he cries, and holds onto the line as he's drug along on the ground, his body bumping over shrapnel and dead things. "I'm okay, just keep driving!" he cries, and begins trying to haul himself up the line with his arms. His legs are sprawled out awkwardly behind his body, clearly broken.
Dopinder, who is sitting in his cab listening to some kind of pop music from his home country, suddenly shrieks as the truck goes by. Another scream is let loose when Deadpool's ass smashes into his windscreen, cracking it in the shape of two butt cheeks. "Mister Pool!"
"Don't worry about me, just go!"
A few moments later, Wade drags himself bodily onto the passenger door, yanks it open, and throws himself inside. "Uuuuugggghhh!" he groans, and then reaches down to *SNAP* his legs back into position. He then sits back into the seat and lets out a long sigh.
The thud of a grappel hitting the side of the truck immediately has Domino looking in the sideview mirror where beneath the text 'objects in mirror are closer than they appear' she sees a speck of black and red come sailing down into the pavement then tumble all over the place. "Ewww..he's gonna feel that one tomorrow."
Fortunately for Deadpool the next turn is a hard left, otherwise he might be the next unfortunate soul to go under the wheels!
Instead he leaves a perfect butt impression in Dopinder's windshield.
It's a hard turn under the best of conditions but when going all-out some damage is going to occur. The trailer clips a street light which dips down in time to clothesline the first biker trying to beat the truck out onto the road. The driver connects with an almost festive sounding *Ding!* before the bike spills over and slides off to the side.
A quick glance out of the driver's mirror is met with the albino's surprised expression disappearing in a puff of shot glass. "Nooo sense of humor…"
With the window down her arm hooks back and empties the Uzi's mag, completely misses the biker, flings the gun out of the truck where it rebounds against the side of a bus stop then neatly boomerangs into the front spokes of the biker's wheel. The rider goes head over heels to land on the corner of a dumpster before his own bike crashes down on top of him.
As Deadpool drags himself into the other seat Neena quickly makes a face. "Pull yourself together man!" One second..two..then she breaks out laughing with a quick slap to the top of the wheel. "HAH! Been waiting to use that line! Really though, get that shit straightened out, you're gonna give me nightmares."
Eeeeugh… Hearing that -snap- is proof that the cure is as bad as the disease. A slow breath is pulled through Dom's teeth before shuddering. "-Still- don't like that sound."
Its distinctly possible that Deadpool witnessed some of what can only really be referred to as the Domino Effect (tm) while being drug along like a set of broken truck nuts. "Oh, come on," he retorts, "you get used to it- FUCK!" His mask turns to face her and he angrily says, "We didn't go in and raid their fucking vault!" With a disgruntled sound, he unholsters his second pistol and loads it. "Freeing sex slaves is one thing, but we both wanted the whipped cream on this shit pie!"
Hauling himself up on one hand, he leans out the window and fires a pair of shots into a motorcycle that's coming up around on shotgun. The inside of the rider's helmet becomes a pool of blood, and the bike spools off to the side, bounces off a curb, and goes busting through the window of a long since abandoned pawn shop.
"Okay," he says, and sighs again while testing his legs to see if they've healed up yet. "I'll admit that luck is a power, but ONLY if there's a LOAD OF CASH in this glove box!" He reaches down and yanks the glove box open.
It all seems to be going so well! Thus it comes as quite the surprise to Domino when Deadpool suddenly drops another F-bomb and goes from happy-go-lucky Wade to 'Torrential Wilstorm.'
"We could turn around and go back?" she oh so helpfully suggests with a bob of her head right about the time when another biker loses his own head. The event doesn't slow down their conversation one bit.
"Look, we got the civvies out of the way." Assuming they're in one of the cargo containers behind the rig. "The path is clear for us to go back for a little scorched earth. I want a solid payday as much as you do, Wade."
With the glovebox open, there's..a pair of gloves inside! And a few tattered maps. And a half eaten bag of beef jerky.
But seriously. What kind of madman puts GLOVES in the GLOVEBOX?
"Swing and a miss" Neena gently sighs while giving the wheel another sharp turn. A second later there's another *THUD-WhumpWhump!* as a biker gets trailer-checked then rolled over by the back wheels.
In this part of town they don't have to go all that far to find a quiet run-down warehouse to park the rig. The Kenworth now has a healthy mix of fresh blood, scratches, and bulletholes scattered about but the containers themselves look to be in good enough shape. The one on the back isn't on very straight due to its crash landing but it's still there.
The first container holds the would-be slaves. Shaken..not stirred.
The second container..holds a vault. One which had cracked open during its crash landing, proving that, yes, it is indeed full of money.
Domino offers Wade a smile. "Still got it!"
"Gloves!" Deadpool's hand flails about. "I told you! Luck is not a power!" He eyeballs the rear view mirror, and his conviction is once again challenged by the slick rear wheel run-over move. "Driving skills, check. Still not luck."
Holstering the sidearm, he reaches down and adjusts his left leg with another little nudge. "Listen, I'm totally down to go back, but we're gonna need a distraction. Which means I need to call Dopinder, get my extra grenades, and hope they don't have some kind of Powered Crime Unit like the NYPD does, but yeah. I came here to stack some cheese."
Still, he couldn't in good conscious go back for a round two without taking care of the hostages first. So, he follows her out and helps with the cargo containers.
When the vault is opened, he gasps. Very dramatically. He steps forward to pick up a brick of twenties, then turns to look at Domino.
"Okay." He holds up the cash, indicatively. "I'm… willing to maybe go ahead and admit it now." The brick of bills is tossed toward Domino, another one snatched up. "Luck is probably, maybe a power." He suddenly lilts to the left, for his left leg just snapped again.
"Son of a BISCUIT!"
It's a start! A fairly lucrative start… The mercenaries have their score, they've probably made a crapton of new enemies, a bunch of people get a brand new life free of the shady underworld, this is mission fucking -accomplished!-
Then Wilson's leg snaps and Domino's skin crawls. We are at eighty percent Cringe Factor, folks. "That is not a happy sound." If he didn't have Dopinder she'd offer him a ride home. In the semi. Because that's what she has now.
There's still something else to take care of, however. Dom gathers up a few more stacks of bills then steps over to the first container full of a lot of scared women who probably are under-dressed, under-fed, completely broke, and likely don't speak a word of English. She just stands by the doors and starts handing out wads of cash.
"We should really take these people somewhere but the only space big enough is the box they shipped in. It might be time for Dopinder to earn his pay." And how fortunate it is that they have the cabbie on hand!
"This was a good haul, Deadpool. Seemed a little too easy though. Might wanna watch your back more than usual."
"I dunno if I'd call it easy," Deadpool remarks. There's a tone of his voice that is somewhat suspicious. Maybe he believes in her powers more than he cares to openly admit.
Bracing himself on a newly set leg, he approaches the newly freed women. He's not quite proficient in Mandarin, but he knows enough to get by. He is, however, proficient in Japanese. We'll use subtitles here for effect.
In Japanese: If you wait for the police, they'll take the money. If you don't, you can run, make a life for yourself. Your choice.
In Mandarin: Cop take money. You wait for cop, take money. You go without cop, keep money. Do not be stupid!
Between these warnings, he casts a smirk under his mask toward Domino, head canted to the side. "I hope they come after me. I really do. I've got some Triad chimichangas to make, and some Triads to feed them to." A pause. "That doesn't make sense. Forget I said that. Will you forget I said that? Forget I said that and we can totally do this again some time."
He makes a heart shape with his fingers, then goes back to directing the newly freed women.