InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm a little teapot..."

Leonardo Marino (i_calltheshots) wrote in lineof_fire_rpg,
@ 2008-03-11 23:15:00

uh oh. shit's going down
Who: Leo...and...others
What: the ATTACK
Where: Shangri-La Hotel; first floor, somewhere off of the lobby
When: MARCH 10; 11:51 pm
Rating: Mature
Open? to

gabelaroche for now, others to be announced.
EDIT: Now open to;

little_niccy;

illana_marino;

team_italy;

marinolaw;

spencer_nomore;

backoff_bitches

Leo didn't want to leave his wife's side, but when the lights had gone out, he felt slightly uneasy at not having any clue where most of his family was. He was responsible for their well-being, above anything else. Niccy was likely with Roxy, and Raul hopefully with Lucas and Lia, Charlie was...somewhere. He had to be sure they were fine, as it was his duty not only as their brother, father, and boss. He promised to be back in fifteen minutes, and managed to get a flashlight before he ventured off. He didn't want Illana to worry about him, and he didn't want to have to worry as he toted her along with him.

Walking out into the lobby, he swung the light over the room, catching the eyes of mostly strangers as he walked about. "Affanculo." He growled, not at all liking the inconvenience of having to look around a pitch black room with nothing but a damned flashlight to light his way. After doing a thorough sweep of the room and deciding nobody was there that he particularly cared about, he venture down the hallway to the right of him. God knows what his son was doing in the dark, with an entire hotel to wreak havoc in.

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i_calltheshots
2008-03-12 07:51 am UTC (link)

Pushing open one of the doors down the hallway, he sighed when he found nothing but white sheets covering furniture just behind the door. There was probably a better strategy to finding his family right now, but as he hadn't made a mental note as to where they had gone before the power went out, he had taken it upon himself to make sure they were alright. Swear on all that was holy in this world, if his son was off smoking pot again, he would have his hide.

Seeing nobody in the hallway he was in, he decided to look in the last door of the small hallway before he'd turn back and go looking in the ballroom again. He pushed open the only other door in the hallway, and found nothing but another empty room. He was getting more than a little frustrated, and if he had some damned reception, he'd give his son a phone call. Nonetheless, he didn't like leaving Illana for so long, especially when he had promised that he would devote the rest of the evening to her. He had no way to foresee a blackout, and knew she'd understand if he was gone slightly longer than planned when it was to look for their son and his siblings.

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gabelaroche
2008-03-12 08:05 am UTC (link)

A peculiar tingling traveled up his limbs then down his spine. The same tingling he felt before he took each life, a feeling that was exciting and sobering at the exact same time. Gabe had no doubt it was his conscience's last attempt at talking him out of what he was about to do, but save for one instance, he had never been deterred by anyone or anything. He followed Leo into the hallway, staying a good thirty feet behind but slowly closing the distance between them. Door after door was pulled open, and he could see even in the darkness the frustration in the man's eyes. What the hell was he doing, anyway? Why was he walking around with a flashlight, giving away both his identity and location to anyone that was following him? Where were his guards? His brothers that were usually by his side? Surely this couldn't be that easy...

This was it, Gabe thought to himself as he watched Leo enter the last room down the hallway. It was now or never. He hurried down the hallway, glad for the carpeted floors to mask his arrival. He crossed the open door and pressed his back against the wall on the opposite side, then peeked in to catch Leo with his back to him. Without another moment's hesitation, he took the necessary long strides into the room, squeezed his fingers around the shard of glass with his right then quickly wrapped his left arm around the smaller man's throat. He held on tight, his choke hold designed to cut off enough air to make his target weak from lack of oxygen. Swinging his right arm around, he delivered the first, swift stab straight into Leo's gut.

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i_calltheshots
2008-03-12 08:22 am UTC (link)

Usually keen on another's presence, the alcohol he'd consumed earlier in the evening could easily be blamed for his lack of noticing someone coming up closer behind him. Surely Lucas might toss a pissed off look his way when he returned and mutter in that tone that slightly walked the line of disrespect, that he didn't like it when Leo left off without protection. Leo usually would laugh it off, clap him on the shoulder, and tell Lucas that he worried far too much. Leo could handle himself, and the gun strapped to his ankle was an attest to that.

Alert or no, there was very little that could prepare Leo for the silent attack that came before he could realize what happened. A yell was strangled by a strong arm crushing his windpipe, and instinct took over as he thrashed against his assaulter, attempting to break free from the vice-like grip that crushed him backward. His head grew dizzy as he thrust his elbow backward, but before he could get enough force to land a good blow, a sharp pain came from his gut, his entire body heaving with a strangled groan of pain. His hands flew up, weaker than they would have had he actually been able to breathe, and attempted to grip the man's head, press his thumbs into his eyes, anything that would get him off of him.

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gabelaroche
2008-03-12 08:42 am UTC (link)

The tiniest feeling of regret entered Gabe's mind at the way the man thrashed in his arms. Not once had he ever gotten this close to anyone before. Usually he preferred to stay a good handful of feet away, point, and shoot. Two, three shots straight into the gut and chest, sometimes between the eyes. All quick, with not an ounce of struggling and he was out in less than two minutes. The man struggled in his arms, thrashing his arms and throwing punches in the general direction of his head. Garbled groans filled the air, but he muffled it by tightening his arm around the man's throat.

Pulling his arm back, he pulled the glass from his gut in a quick swing, only to bring it down for another strike. Then another, and another, with one more in his chest. Gabe felt the glass pierce the man's right lung; heard the wheezing. The only thing he could think to do, was to apologize. Apologize to the man for who he was and the many lives he had taken, not necessarily by his own hands but by his command. Remorse filled every inch of Gabe's body, but not for the man whose life he felt was slowly slipping away. It was for his own...for Madison...and for all the innocent lives this murder would affect. But his instructions were clear. One week ago, he had read them on the piece of paper and had thrown away. Get up close and personal. Crime of passion. No guns. When he thought there was nothing left in him, Gabe pulled the shard of glass from the man's chest and swung it around and between their bodies, the gloves he had pulled on earlier covered in blood, and took a hard stab in the middle of the man's back. Then, with a strength he hadn't known he possessed, he broke the glass, his fingers wrapped tight around the taped half while the other remained in Leo Marino's back. Seconds later he had shuffled back toward the door, ducked past it and disappeared into the hallway.

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i_calltheshots
2008-03-12 09:09 am UTC (link)

His attempts to thwart his attacker were all in vain, as Leo had spent so much of his time ordering others to take on these matters, the training he'd received since he was a boy no longer seemed able to make its way into his mind enough for it to weld into his instinct. Hands balled into fists, he connected once back to his attacker's head, but his arms were so weak from loss of oxygen and blood, that he was sure somewhere in his mind that he barely caused a dent in the larger man's actions.

Muffled grunts and groans of pain garbled from his lips with each thrust of what he could only assume was a knife that entered his body. His shirt felt wet, his skin felt on fire, and his breathing came in ragged, raspy, and labored gasps as he tried to catch his breath. A loud yelp of pain came from his lips when he felt the twist of the knife in his back, snapping and leaving an intruding piece of it in his back. He reached for it futilely, but before he could fight anymore, or pluck it out, he was left to crumple on the floor. He gasped for air, staring into the dark, his flashlight too far to reach.

Curling up more into a ball than anything else, his jaw set, teeth clenched together as he fought off the darkness that seemed intent on consuming him. His arm flew to his ankle and he pulled up his pants leg. He gripped the butt of his gun and pulled it free, his eyes trying to focus as he pointed in the direction his attacker had gone, and fired a shot, the sound breaking through the otherwise quiet dark.

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gabelaroche
2008-03-12 09:35 am UTC (link)

Down the hallway. Long, quick strides, his shoes muffled by the carpet. Gabe pulled off his gloves swiftly but carefully, first the right, then the left that he used to wrap the other in. He was just a few steps from the kitchen when he heard the gunshot and he recoiled for a moment before realizing it came from too far away for it to have been for him. The muffled grunts and moans of pain buzzed in his ear as screams and startled cries floated into the hallway from the dining room.

Moments later he was back in the kitchen, empty and quiet save for the soft humming of the ice machine. Reaching under the left corner of it, he pulled out the same large ziploc bag he had used earlier and set it on the nearest stainless steel counter. His hands shook as he hastily unbuttoned his shirt, careful not to damage it in any way. He set it aside to pull on the fresh shirt inside the ziploc, wrapped the taped end of his weapon in the shirt and stuffed it into the bag along with the bloody gloves. Somehow, he managed to wrap it all tightly and taped back under the ice machine before too many worried voices carried into the kitchen.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took a few, calming breaths as he buttoned up his shirt and folded his sleeves, then rolled his neck until he heard it pop. Closing his eyes just then had been a bad idea, for the feel of Leo Marino's dying body was still fresh in his mind. The glass had cut into his skin the same way a knife did through a piece of meat, and he would never forget the wet sound to his grunts of pain once he had driven the glass through his lung. Shaking himself visibly, he squared his shoulders and hurried along and into the dining room, joining in on the chaos caused by the one lone gunshot.

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