тєяєη¢є нᎥggѕ (rationalizing) wrote in gbaic, @ 2017-05-31 15:36:00 |
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The routine hadn’t varied much from before. Terence hadn’t spared nearly as long as he had the last time considering there was no need to devise strategy, and instead, loaded up his cargo, enspelled and lashed to his broom, and took off towards Wales only a little over an hour before the drop-off time. That was about how long it had actually taken to travel the distance between the Hotel and the drop-off point last time, and there was no sense in circling during to waste time in the same way he had before. The sounds coming from the packed lamps were just as unnerving as they had been before. Terence had been trying to shut them out or at least, try and figure out some way to muffle the chilling noises coming from just behind his ear, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Shit. Was that... ? Fuck. That was a Hitwizard sweep. When in the hell had they added this route to their patrols? Grabbing the handle of his broom, Terence steered, trying to shift his form into cover before he was spotted. Not that it was likely going to do much good, if he’d seen them, in all likelihood, they’d seen him, too. It took only a few moments after Terence’s spot of the three man sweeper crew to amplify their voice through the evening air. The booming voice of hitwizard Graham Montague directed, “By order of the Ministry Of Magic, you are ordered to slow your broom and allow for an inspection.” Oh, yeah, like hell that was happening. Snaking his wand out of his sleeve, Terence cast a smokescreen spell before leaning hard on his broom and trying to get some distance between himself and the three men closing in. Of course Montague had to be among them. If they caught up to him, he’d have the sort of leverage that Terence didn’t want anyone to have on him. Of course, no one could trace it back to the Hotel. But he’d still have a citation that he couldn’t afford. Better to ditch and risk it than stop and try and sweet talk his way into convincing them not to check the boxes that were clearly moaning. The rush of adrenaline that kicked in as the chase began was one that certainly gave Graham a burst of 2am energy. Mid-air apparition to the start of the smoke screen was immediately pushed through and while the assailant had certainly gotten some distance between them there was no way he’d get away. “Don’t push your luck, Montague!” Called one of the other sweepers as it wasn’t unusual for on-the-beat splinching to occur during mid-air apparition. Taking heed of the warning Hitwizard Montague fired a net spell in the direction of the get away broom while in quick pursuit. Shit. That hadn’t slowed them down nearly as much as Terence had wanted. Of course Montague would be insane enough to try a moving apparition. In this moment, the only thing that Terence had going for him were the few tricks that he remembered from Quidditch. Pulling back on his broom and then pushing sharply down, Terence shifted, diving into a Wronski Feint, the net spell tussling his broom’s bristles and nearly unseating him as he flew upwards and was barely able to drag himself back onto the broom. God. He could only hope that Montague wasn’t smart enough to realize what he was playing at. He hadn’t been a seeker, so… there could be a chance. However remote. Having been a chaser, however, Graham recognized the dive and pulled out of it less gracefully, slowing him down for a moment. Leaning back into his own broom, the hitwizard made one last attempt to apparate alongside his opponent in the upward ascent. Just as he did so a sharp pain bolted up his foot and a yell escaped him from the minor toe splinching. “AAH! PULL IT OVER YOU--- YOU!” in the same moment that he grabbed the perp’s shoulder Graham made note of the fact that they’d been chasing, Terence Fuckin’ Higgs! He made every attempt to hold onto the man and steer him off course, pulling, elbowing, clawing - you name it. How in the hell? Terence was startled simultaneously by the sudden appearance of Montague at his side, the yell, and the hand grasping his shoulder, his body flailing wildly as he held onto the broom with one hand and managed to whip his wand back around with the other. The blasting curse that shot from his wand was not what Terence had meant to do, but it had apparently been the automatic reaction of his mind, the focus of all of his nonverbal skills, and as he watched it smack into Montague, he knew that he couldn’t just leave it at that. It was the twist in the air that lost him part of his cargo. The sudden and sharp turn sending one of the crates flying as he rushed to position his broom behind the blast, his free hand shooting out to try and keep Montague from plunging to his death. Smuggling? Sure. Resisting arrest? Okay. Assault? Well, enough. Murder? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening. Unfortunately, the blasting curse had rendered the thick hitwizard unconscious and his deadweight gave no help in the scenario of saving himself. The two remaining sweepers were finally in sight of the situation and another amplified voice echoed over the sky, “YOU THERE! STOP!” “Levicorpus!” Terence cast, knowing all too well by the approach of the voices that there wouldn’t be time to set him down gently on the ground. So, instead, he did the next best thing: use him as a weapon. With Montague hanging in mid-air, upside down, a repelling curse was quick to implement, pushing Montague back towards the other two as Terence turned his broom hard and took off. He could only hope their unconscious colleague colliding with them would be enough for the other two to call the chase off. He still had part of shipment to deliver. |