|From all things, Helena has been (detached) wrote in repose,|
@ 2019-11-04 23:42:00
|Entry tags:||*log, dante zaragoza, leena bertolini|
Capital: Dante and Leena PT 2
Who: Dante and Leena
What: Two vigilantes on the streets of the Capital
Where: The Capital
Warnings/Rating: Violence, language.
"Tie them up," she repeated. Gun or not, the other woman's disdain or not -- this had been Bruce's way and Leena? She got why. If they started killing every goon, then they were just new goons with a mission, instead of goons for hire. Not killing? That kept things from escalating worse, but she didn't explain any of that. There wasn't time and this was very much not a talking time.
Nor did she explain why the cops would be involved. Whatever was in here? She didn't want to clean that the fuck up, and someone needed to before whatever it was -- guns or drugs, or both, ended up back on the street. Maybe the cops would be crooked, but she'd stick around, watch from afar to make note of anyone that did act squirrelly, and follow up later. Let them out themselves while cleaning up this shit and two messes were cleaned up.
However, the man lived, and she tried not to show her distaste of the gun pressed up against the only conscious goons back. Selina used guns, but this girl wasn't Selina. Her distaste she kept behind her teeth, and followed behind them a few feet, alert, and watching for anyone that might not be coming at them directly.
The fact that the warehouse was mostly empty was not making her feel any better, and as Spanish fired off between the two, she had a moment of woe. She'd taken French in high school, and then there had been her crash course in Czech, and she knew a touch of Russian and Japanese, but that was it for her language experience. She should add more to it -- later, when this was done and they were out of here.
The office looked like any office, in any warehouse ever. Stereotypical, with a short roof, and she went off to the side because the door would be the biggest window in -- and out. It was a chokepoint, and when they didn't know what was inside -- yeah, off to the side, away from the way the door would swing open. The other woman didn't wait, and Leena didn't expect her to, and she almost wanted to say something to save the guy's life, but she didn't have to. The butt of the gun dropped him, and there was the span of a heartbeat before all was bullets.
She growled as she was dragged to the floor and covered -- and it would work, except the walls were like fucking tissue paper. Reaching into her belt, she fumbled the grappling hook, but it was there, and after the other's attempt to take him out with a sparking brass knuckle, Leena grabbed her and shot the hook at the ceiling. Her shoulder protested their joint weight, but they rose all the same, and Leena stopped them when they were at ceiling level.
Dumbass was still shooting at the walls and the floor, and that was fine, because they weren't there. And he had to reload soon the way he was spending bullets. "I'll swing you in when he reloads," she said, as quietly as she could so he wouldn't hear, but she would. Swinging a little, she bounced her feet off the edge of the office, and sprang back, getting momentum for when he inevitably had to reload.