Defiance is the first emotion Bishop feels as the patrolmen begin weaving their way through the gathered Hellhounds. It’s only a matter of time before one zeroes in on him, gun pointed directly at his chest as he’s orders the Chaplain to get off of his bike. A beat of time paces, then another and Bishop doesn’t move. It’s his one small act of rebellion before finally sneering at the armed man and dismounting his bike. The expression he wears his cool, calm even as the man barks another order for him to move, directing him forward towards the spot where Rodeo, Sarge and Sonny are already lined up.
Even if he’s moving forward, Bishop doesn’t move at any great speed, the Chaplain is dragging his feet -- it’s his one small act of defiance. Anything else beyond that could very well get them all killed.
“Move faster,” Is growled at him from behind and Bishop feels the press of the gun into his shoulder. He picks up his pace only marginally and soon enough he’s dropping to his knees beside Sonny, something akin to a smirk mixed with a sneer still gracing his features as he locks eyes on the patrolmen who’s clearly calling the shots.
Normally Bishop would have spouted off at least one smart remark to the patrolmen, ever determined to get under their skin. But now ain’t the time or place to go riling them up. Not when the Hellhounds are both outnumbered and outgunned.
“Do we got a houdini act to get outta this?” Bishop mutters, his gaze sliding from the patrolmen in front of them to his fellow officers.