EVENT: 8 Hours to Sunset
Event-icon Who: Jackie, Arsenal, Domino
Where: Between Queens and Brooklyn
When: Immediately following Counterblow
Emitter: Jackie
Tone: Gritty (language, violence, crude and adult humor)
What: Jackie's enemies have been manipulated into concentrating their efforts to kill him, stopping him from reaching Jersey. Half a million dollars says that he'll make it there alive.

The trio stop around the corner where a Lambo Aventador rests hugging the ground like a sea sick man that's just climbed off of a two month sea voyage. It's cruelly angled lines speak of only two things, speed, and a knife's edge of beauty. Jackie reaches into his pocket, juggling the shotgun, and hauls out his keys, "Good morning Mr. Estacado." a sultry female voice says from the Lambo, "Morning Barbie." he replies as he swings open one of the doors and cimbs into the drivers seat. He leans out to eye the pair, "If the lady would like to sit in my lap for the duration..." he offers with a little grin made charming with it's boyish edge... Jesus he's young for this life. "But I did warn you it was cramped in here." The sudden roar of the engines coming to life drowns out any counter quips the other two might make.

Domino's right around the corner after Jackie, with Arsenal caught by the bicep within her vise-like grip. All of that starts to change once she sees their transportation. "Subtle." And complete with -two.- Seats. "Oh, you have -got- to be kidding me. Look, I don't care if I'm the smallest one here, I am -not- riding in the goddamn trunk."

That starts to lose its novelty real quick.

What is this woman willing to put up with for half a million? With a sudden pull on that trapped arm she shoves Harper in front of herself. "Get your annoying butt in there." Why does he get the seat? Two reasons. If he's strapped in, she can keep an eye on him, liability to her job that he's become. She's also the one with the good fortune. If anyone can survive a high speed car chase without a seatbelt? Yep. It'd be her.

"Serenity now," she mutters through a set jaw while climbing into the Aventador last. "-You- just worry about driving, got me?" she says with a frigid growl toward Jackie.

"Who the fuck names their car -Barbie,- anyway?"

Adjusting his crossbows and checking his gun holsters so that he's armed and ready for whatever might come, Roy whistles at the voice from the car. "Hell of a voice there," he says as he slides into the car. "-This- is the getaway car? Sweet ride."

Unstrapping the bow and quiver to put into whatever little room remained in the car, Roy obediently got into the car, pausing to grin at Domino, patting his lap before she slides in. "So what do _I_ worry about, Dom, being the sub?"

Jackie smirks confidently at Domino, "First car I ever stole was a Ferrari f50." he says as he reaches up to adjust the mirror ever so slightly, "I was twelve." He lets his fingertips roam over the sleek dash lovingly, "She's not all that smart, not even GPS in her," he says in answer to Dom's question, "but she's /packed/ in /all/ the right places. Barbie." As they climb into the car he reaches up and grips a small sublte tab sticking out of the ceiling, and pulls, the felt that makes up the roof of the car slides away and he tosses it out into the street. There, nestled against the fiberglass roor are loaded clips for an assault rifle, as well as at least 4 suppressors. Spread out but still in easy reach, they cover the small roof. Then he reaches back behind the seat and into the small space there and there's a soft thump sound. He musses around then comes out with a G36, it's stock still folded up. He hands this to Dom, reaches back in, and then hands her the 200 round double drum clip that was also smuggled away in the fake panneling. The clips and suppressors in the roof make far more sense now. "I don't wanna go deaf in here and if my guess is right we have about a minute before the rest of the gang shows up so, silence that sucker and get comfy, cause shit's about to get real."

"You worry about keeping your mouth shut and your hands to yourself. What--Crossbows,- really? God, what century are you from?"

Hmm. Modern, proper weaponry. And lots of it. Domino's still trying to figure out -how- to get herself in that car when she mutters a "Fuck it" and straddles Roy's lap. She does not look happy. Then she's handed a gun. "Just give me an excuse, Arsenal," she challenges the guy while threading the suppressor into place then loading up the ridiculously expanded magazine. She could have done this with handguns alone, but is she about to argue being given something bigger? -Hell- no. The rifle gets charged with an expert pull of the ambidextrous lever, primed and ready. "Let's just get this show on the road, alright?" This trip can't possibly end quickly enough!

"Uh huh, packed in -all- the right places," Roy nods in agreement with Jackie, though it's a toss up as to whether he's talking about Barbie or Dommie here. "Hey, crossbows're a lot -less- lethal than guns. You've been on -how- many missions with me and you've -not- noticed these babies? Man, I'm losing my touch."

There's a tap on the roof. "So does the whole thing open up, or are we supposed to be squeezing through the windows to be shooting back?"

Jackie shakes his head, "Waiting." he says firmly, his eyes in the rear view mirror, "I need to know who shows up." he's a mob guy, which means he needs to know what Family is after him, so far it was a bunch of unallinged hitters that took their shot, now though he wants to see who'll show up to pick through the bodies to find him... And there they are. Four Hummers, Five Escalades, a Yukon, an honest to god VW Bus, a small army of overly suped up Japanese import Fast and the Furious cars, and what Jackie can only describe as a diesel powered tank show up almost simultaneously. "What. The. Fuck." the hitman says slowly. "What are the Russians doing out of Brighton Beach? Triad, Yakuza, Marcone's people, Palmetti's people, wait... is that O'Brien? I thought he was in Roscoe or another nickle..." Jackie glances from the mirror to what's in front of them, "Shit."

He plasters Domino into Roy's face as white smoke pours from the tires of the Lambo for a second before the car fires forward like a bullet from a gun, carefully swerving around a white on white on white CTS. "Fisk you fat fucking bastard." he mutters under his breath. "Top's part of the car." he states flatly, "Convertibles are for douchebags. No woman wants to get her hair mussed up that much." he pauses, "Plus it's armored." The sound of their squealing tires sends all the other cars, who were just starting to disembark their people, into motion, guys diving back into the cars as they start moving. The white on white Caddy hits it's brakes as Jackie swerves around it, though the back window suddenly explodes as someone in the CTS sprays the contents of something small and fully auto after them with no real aim, bullets blowing apart the windows of cars on either side of them. "Back window comes out, everything else rolls down." he says helpfully to Roy and offers a grin to the pair. "So everyone in the City wants me dead by the way. I hate Tuesdays."

"That's the best they can manage? You don't need me here, just outrun the bast--OOF!"

A second later and Domino extracts her face from Roy's headrest, scowling anew. "Hey, -I- don't mind getting my hair messed up. Armored body or not, she ducks and flinches as the shots start coming in around the trio. "I'm happy for you, really I am. Next time I'm asking for partial payment up front. Arsenal, you might want to shield your face."

Down comes the passenger window. Out comes one fully decked out G36. Dom's just as good a shot with her left hand, the suppressed assault rifle spitting out metallic death at velocities well surpassing the sound barrier. Roy's about to get himself a face full of painfully hot brass cartridges.

"Hummers. Don't these idiots know what you're driving? They'll top out at one-twenty, flat-out, with a light load. 'Barbie' here hits, what, upward of two-thirty? Get an open stretch and pull the fucking trigger!"

... If this weren't so -serious- a moment, and Domino wasn't -such- a badass, Roy Harper would be -completely- happy. Because damn, considering that Domino was facing him when she was pressed into him... Well, for Roy's sake, Domino had -better- not be trying to sit back in his lap anytime soon.

There is absolutely -no- way he can say anything, but just flash a wide grin at Domino, before sighing. "Hell... I don't wanna move, but... hold on here, Dom. Just..."

A bit of awkward fumbling around, and then Roy is kneeling on the seat just low enough that Domino can straddle HIS back, and they BOTH can shoot out the rear window.

"... By the way, whatever your name is... thanks." Roy says as he arranges his crossbows, guns, and bow so that he can pick up whatever he needs at the moment. "Because this is a freaking first, I'm a freaking -gun mule-."

Jackie grinds his teeth, "This is New York." he states flatly at Domino's back as she starts firing behind them, "there are no open stretches." And, as if that wasn't enough, it's 8am on a Tuesday morning. Guess what happens around that time? People happen. Twenty million of them." While Domino fires, Jackie weaves, the machine can't really get more then a solid forty mph going while still avoiding pedestrians and other cars that is. As they pop out of the 'bar' section of the Heights, Jackie gets a small open area and guns it, the car leaping forward suddenly under the surge. Behind them Domino's hastily fired rounds simply makes one of the small import cars, obviously the most agile speedy of the lot, swerve wildly to the side and then plow up the curb and into the side of a building. A moment later it explodes in a green fireball that send it's entire wheel out like a giant rubberized ninja star that buries itself in the windshield of another import, causing it to drive straight into a parked minivan, demolishing the smaller vehicle completely. Two down, fifteen or more to go. Good times.

"Hey!" Jackie snarls, "Careful! You kill a kid with that thing and I'm dumping your corpse out the fucking window." That sounds like the first truely serious thing he's said since they started. "The Docks, if we can get a-SHIT!" he jerks the wheel to the side and the Lambo makes a turn no other car could make that sharply while moving that fast, at least not without rolling. Two pickup trucks that were coming the opposite way now turn down the alley to follow them, a guy stands up in the bed of the leading truck with a SAW and ratchets the first round of the chain into place. HE puts the barrel on the top of the truck and grins maniacally. "Jamacians. Really? And you're welcome. I'm Jackie by the way, nice to meet you. We'll shake later when you're not trying out the Kama Sutra's Gun-Fu sub section." he states conversationally as he starts to dodge around debris in the alley about the same time the BUH DUH DUH DUH DUHDUHDUHDUHDUHDUH! of the SAW fills the narrow passages of the alley with thunder and heavy calibre lead.

"I don't want you to move either, Arsenal. You're gonna screw up my aim."

Then she's staring at Roy's back. "This. Isn't. Helping." Ugh, lord. She's never going to live this one down, is she? Well, if Roy isn't going to worry about being belted into the seat properly... With irritation fueling every abrupt motion she grabs the seatbelt and wraps it once around her arm, keeping it buckled into place to serve as an anchor.

Then one destroyed import (did she just take out a nitrous tank?) takes out -another- import. "Sayonara, suckers!"

"Hey, I'm busy trying to keep -your- ass alive!" Domino verbally snipes back. "I'm not telling you how to do your job, have a little faith in mine! God I'm gonna regret this--Arsenal! Eyes and sights forward! Make yourself useful!"

The rear window comes down on this car? Excellent. She's got a straight shot clear behind them, two seats to brace against, and an elbow held at a prime angle to smack the side of Jackie's head if he starts to irritate her too much.

"Man, I have had it up to -here- with roadtrips this month..."

"Arsenal," Roy introduces himself as he chooses the non-lethal option available to him, grabbing the two crossbows. As soon as he can figure out where Domino's aiming, Roy coordinates and starts aiming his bolts at the other cars' tires, trusting that Jackie -can- keep the car steady. Can't say much about Domino's seating position, but Roy at least can still aim -true-.

"That useful for you, Domino?" Roy retorts. "Or do you want me to put my head down so you can use it like an effin' brace?"

Jackie swerves slightly as Domino's rounds, the same ones that punch through the face of the man with the SAW, send casings at him, "Watch your brass!" he offers helpfully as he bats a hot bit of metal from the air with his hand before it can hit his face. "I'm drivin' 'ere!" he lays the New York accent on thickly for comedic value. The man in the bed of the pick up arches back under the impacts of Dom's rounds, and his gun fires up oen of the sides of the buildings that make up the alleyway, chewing up brick as it goes. He flies out the back and the following pick up merely runs over him without slowing. The front tire of the first truck pops neatly as Roy's bolt passes through it, and it suddenly jack knifes oddly in the narrow alleyway, it's nose digging into a dumpster and spinning the pick up completely sideways, wedging it between the buildings on either side. The Lambo shoots out into the main streets again about the same time they hear a thunderous crash as the second pick up barrels into the side of it's companion that now acts like a road block.

"Nice shot." he says appreciatively as they zip around another corner and then come to a tire squealing body jerking halt, the Lambo fish tailing slightly as the locked up brakes make the car stutter. Then it settles back on it's tires, the smoke from the sudden stopping drifting forward past them while an old lady in a Hover Round gives them the finger as she continues to cross the road at the breakneck speed of two miles an hour. Jackie smiles and leans his head out the window, "Lookin' good Grama! Now get out of the fuckin' road!" It's New York, what are you gonna do, and besides, no one's chasing them, right? The roar of engines fills the air in the almost silence of them stopped, waiting for the old lady to get out of the way (she paused to double finger them after Jackie's comment) and heralds the arrival of the fleet of pursuit vehicles. One of the Hummers starts to spit fire at them, chunks of asphault kicking up in front of the Lambo as whatever gun they're using digs a line of pock marks in the pavement. Grama hits the gas hauls the rest of the way to the side walk now and Jackie punches it again. "Women. Am I right or am I right?" he offers to Aresenal as the chase begins anew.

"Yeah, would you? That would really help," Dom replies to Roy without missing a beat. As it is she's having trouble figuring out what to do with her left arm while covering their retreat. In the end she hooks it around Roy's neck. It's probably good that she's not a big person or she might have ended up strangling him with a shoulder. "Hey, if you want to crawl up here and take over, I'd be happy to do the driving!"

For another few seconds its business as usual, shots going backward and crossbow bolts going forward, until--


Her hold on the seatbelt, and on Harper, are all that keep Dom from flying backward into the windshield. An instant later she snaps her head around, staring wide-eyed an elderly woman. Before she can think of anything to say Jackie beats her to the punchline, to which she casts a frown his way and smacks the back of his head.

By comparison, her treatment to Roy is downright friendly. That left hand lets go of the rifle and catches the back of his head, not needing to see who's shooting at them to know about where he is. "-That.- Deal with that." She's going to be busy trying to figure out how to brace and fire an assault rifle without spraying brass into Jackie's face.

Mercenary problems!

"Help yourself!" Roy says. If it makes it easier to shoot. "Thanks, Jackie, now make with the car-fu and get us the hell out of here!" Not that Roy expected Jackie to find a truck with the right tracks and -jump- over it or something. "And dammit, if you want -me- to not be distracted by all the shaking and bouncing and little old ladies, -hold steady-! I got it, I got it... what the hell are you packing Dom, double D's?!" Not that the observation seems to have distracted from Roy's aim, as he keeps firing and firing, especially where Domino was pointing. Lady packs -that- much heat, Roy was listening!

The Lambo again rockets down the street as an armada of cars falls in behind them, large Hummers and the CXT in front, soaking up the bullets and crowbow bolts like spouges. Some things are just to big to go down easily, and other things... have run flat tires. From the wall of black steel and heavy trucks, small quick super cars appear, the rest of the imports, bobbing and weaving in fast darting motions through the traffic that Jackie himself it dodgeing wildly. "We can't make it to the docks." he says through his teeth as he takes a corner so sharply that Domino almost ends up in his lap, "Hey there, no time for that. Later." he says, nudging her back onto Roy with a hand on her hip, "Jamacians run the docks and obviously, they don't like me." the Lambo takes a few hits, soft thumps of bullets hitting the armor, the first hits scored on the car, and Jackie sighs, "I'm so sorry baby." he laments as he cuts across a parking lot to avoid an intersection completely. "So... we're headed to Brooklyn." He blasts through a downed gate beam on the other side of the parking lot, sending the wooden thing into splinters. The smaller bightly colored cars are harder targets, but easier to dismantle. Usually they'd be almost impossible to take out, but as they exit the lot and the small speedsters pour on the gas, the two marksmen in the car make short work of four of the vehicles. One smashes into the parking attendants booth, another into a parked 1973 Dodge Dart, the third's hood blows off as his engine block is cracked wide open by a bullet, and the fourth, well... another green ball of fire. NOS is bad for you people. Let that be a lesson. Which leaves the army of heavy duty trucks behind them, a bus, and... "Construction." Jackie says flatly. "We're running out of road quickly." of course they are.

"Double-stacks," Domino 'corrects' Harper. "Ten auto. Nice, aren't they?" Yeah, she's talking about her firearms. She's also got a lot of competition to handle behind them, blasted rice-burners. The rifle shoots quickly, but getting a dead bead on any of them without shredding everything else nearby is not easy to do. They're still in a massive city, she really needs to take every one of her bullets into account. The risk of hitting civilians, whether walking, in a car, inside of a building..? The odds of her -missing- are worse.

Fortunately, working against the odds is always in her favor.

There's a price to pay, of course. Often without any warning, such as when she winds up flopped against Jackie from that turn. "Hands on the wheel!" she snaps back. "I can handle myself, thanks."

Right. Imports. What else is bolted to the ceiling, anything bigger? Anything that won't blast a building to slag if she happens to miss? Not looking too good.

With the call of construction ahead she turns around to look forward out of the Italian exotic's windshield once more.

Identify. Assess. React.

Without warning she snaps a hand out for the Lamborghini's wheel, jerking it in a direction that to anyone else would seem as being purely random and compulsive. Really, that's exactly what it is. But, it's how she can trigger her probability manipulation. Time to roll the dice.

"Double-stacked, reinforced, make a hell of a lot of nice boom booms," Roy echoes. "They're -spectacular-." Shoving off his crossbows to the side, Roy picks up his bow, keeping it horizontal to make for easy shooting. Well, what the hell, right? Grabbing for his explosive arrows, which makes for -another- kind of nice booms, Roy aims. "Okay, baby, come to papa," he mutters, readying to target the first truck coming when...

Startled by the wheel being -spun- at just the moment he's firing...


Well, hell, where was -that- explosive arrow going to end up...?

Jackie is not happy. The whole city is trying to kill him, which sounded like fun for the first fifteen minutes, mostly because he didn't suspect it was literal, just another hit job... And then masks showed up, helpful masks but still, it's the principle of the thing, and /that/ lead into SOMEONE ELSE GRABBING THE BARBIE'S WHEEL. Okay, a man has to draw a line somewhere. "Hey!" he smacks the back of Dom's hand as she yanks the wheel, "My job! You shooooooooooooooooo---" What was going to be 'shoot' extends into a noise of shock as the Lambo goes into a madened sideways slide, a move it was /not/ designed to make, it's wheels screaming. White smoke plumes from the tires and fills the air as Roy's shot fires, thank all the gods of chaos theory, out the window and into the smoke never to be seen again. Mostly because a moment later it explodes, the wash of the explosion blasts the smoke away with an invisible wall. The Lambo leaps forward, now 90 degrees from it's original direction and straight towards a shopping center, while behind them a bulldozer's shovel is partially blown off of the machine it was attached to, making an impromptu ramp. The last two suped imports race into the smoke that was blown into their view points and both hit the 'ramp' at oblique angels, each car instantly catching air and spinning off in wobbly barrel rolls, one to the right, one to the left. If it was a planned action movie stunt, it would be beautiful. Sadly... one of the cars lands in the pit that the crew has dug to make room for more sewage pipes, the explosion that was it's gas tank angled upward like a shaped charge, harmlessly venting it's force in a direction away from any of the workers while the other car ends up in the back of a dumptruck, upside down, wheels still spinning, it's roof caved in.

Jackie blinks as there's a crash of glass and the Lambo enters the mall through the large sliding glass doors without bothering to open them. "First, that was awesome. Second, that was awesome. Third, we don't have time to go shopping, I don't care how badly you want those shoes." he shoots Domino a look out of the corner of his eye as he lays on the horn, getting shoppers to move out of his way as he drives down the carpetted wide walkways of the mall carefully, "But if you like, I'll buy you some fancy new lingere when we're done. Promise." This is much slower, but for the moment, no one's following them into the mall, so that's a good sign, right? "HEY!" Jackie screams out the window, "I'm drivin' 'here! Get out the fuckin' way!" he's gonna say that a lot today, isn't he? One of the angry shoppers thumps the top of the Lambo and screams incomprehensible curses after them. "Hey, I didn't know this place had Armani in it... I need to pick up a new suit tomorrow. Give them a try." he says as they pass a high end mens clothing store.

What the heck was Domino thinking back there?! Well..she really wasn't. That's the thing about instinct, as soon as you start to think about it it isn't instinct anymore. All she can do is hang the hell on as the world simply -changes- around the Lamborghini. There's nothing left to do but let her action play itself out and see where it lands them all.

"Hey, they have a Cheesecake Factory!"

"Just keep your foot down, I'm not spending my half a million on repairing this place once we're done with it."

She's also crammed in there behind Roy in a most embarrassing fashion with that insanely illegal rifle filling her hands. "Move along people, nothing to see here!" Someone brings his phone up to take a picture, prompting her to snap the rifle's sights up onto him, complete with a meaningful stare as the three unlikely combatants roll on past.

"Can you get us out of here, Jackie? I'm starting to feel a little exposed--not a word, Arsenal."

"Oh holy fuckin' hell!" screams Roy. Thank all the spirits in the great Navajo tribe that arrow -didn't- go off in the wrong place. Or Lady luck, as it might be.

Watching the last suped imports going flying off, Roy punches Jackie in the side. "Dammit, what the hell?" he shouts, twisting around and slumping back onto his seat where he gets an eyeful of Domino. And then Roy grins a big wide grin, and does -not- lift his eyes towards her face. "... god, I -really- could go for some cheesecake now..."

Jackie oafs as he's punched, "Don't hit me! She did it!" he points at Dominos before the car drifts to a halt and he looks around at an intersection in the mall, "Um... That way leads to a dead end it looks like, and that one... Jesus H. Karate-Chop-Action Christ! I can get us anywhere in NYC, but how the fuck do you get out of this mall??" he drives the Lambo over to one of those little triangular kiosk thingies with a map on it and pulls in close so Dom can lean out and look, "Where are there more doors that don't involve us driving through a Macy's to get to?" he asks, his elbow resting on the open window seal and his chin in his hand irritably. He winks at a passing brunette in a short skirt with a high heels on. She just stares, smiles, and saunters off. "Take your time." he says to her as he watches her go appreciatively.

Boys... When the car pulls up to the kiosk Domino scoots around and extrudes herself out through the window, planting her butt on the edge of the door. One hand holds the seatbelt. One holds the assault rifle out against her hip, pointed upward. For the mall-goers to see. Real subtle, all around. Gives her a great view of the map, though! "Forward through, left at Foot Locker, watch the fountain outside of Victoria's Secret, right through the food court!"

Back into the car she goes.

"And if you'd be a sweetheart, drive extra slow past the Golden Dragon. I haven't eaten today."

To Arsenal, she helpfully points out "Plenty of places where an unwanted knee could wind up in here, buddy."

Resting an elbow on Domino's lap as she leans out to look, Roy glances towards Jackie. "I tell ya, today... today I was expecting to be haulin' in some Jamaican jerks, bring 'em in... and then I get cheesecake instead. I feel like I should be paying -you- for this."

As Domino pulls back in, Roy shifts his attention back towards her not-quite-scowling face, and holding his hands up. "Well then, make sure you're putting your knees where they're wanted, eh, dahlin'? I'm not responsible for any turbulence, though..." And here Roy turns his head and winks at Jackie.

Jackie nods his head and waits for her to get back inside before he starts driving again, following her directions. As they enter the crowded food court Jackie sighs and lays on the horn again, when most people just stare, he guns the engine... which makes people more /real/ quick like out of the way. Then they're off, picking up speed. A couple of tables ricochet off the front, and a chair is launched skyward as they build up enough speed to blast through the front doors and out into the parking lot, the horn/engine combo keeping people out of the way. Jackie shakes his head, "Fuck the Golden Dragon, I told you I'd share the cheese fries." he points to the dash where, by some miracle, the to-go still sits. "You'll thank me." he says as he roars through the parking lot. "Eat fast." he states as a loud crash sounds and a small Honda is tossed out of the way of an onrushing black Hummer, a man leaning out the side of the car 'aims' a massive shotgun with a drum on it. This guy knows his work though as the solid thumps of double ought, at least two shells worth, hit the side of the Lambo hard, the rest going skyward as the fully auto behemoth empties itself. He drops the drum without going back inside the Hummer and pulls out another, slamming it home. "Crap. That's Sully, he loves that Saiga and he's good with it." Jackie says, eyeing the new drum. "Blue tape... that one has slugs." he states in a deadpan voice. Armored cars are great, but nothing is really bulletproof, just resistant, and a slug from a shotgun is... well it's big. Really big. And it hits hard.

Jackie grins a bit at Roy, "You know hero I'm liking you more and more." The engine roars again and once more Domino and Roy get to snuggle via G-Forces as the Lambo starts off at a brisk pace. But while it has to dodge, the Hummer simply drives straight and people move out of it's way. It's not enough to close the gap, but it keeps it from getting any wider.

When they carve their way through the food court, Domino's trying to shift her position within the cramped interior when she reaches outside of the window--

and catches a donut out of the air.

She retracts her hand, thoughtfully looks at it, shrugs, and takes a full bite out of it. Not what she ordered, but it'll do in a pinch.

"Maybe," she says around a mouthful, "but feel free to hit a few more tables just to be sure."

It's all she can do to catch the pastry in her teeth and hold on all over again as they go crashing out into the parking lot, followed by a big scary gun being leveled from the side of a big scary truck.


There's only so many places where a third person can go inside of a two person vehicle. Somehow she manages to curl up inside of the footwell as buckshot pelts the side of the Aventador.'s while she's down there that she spots a grenade launcher bolted to the roof of the car.

Roy's a pretty good shot.

The donut gets yanked out of her maw, eyes wide as she points at the launcher secured above the three. "Someone frag that bitch!"

She ..ah. Needs to get herself unstuck from the footwell.

"Ahhh we've all gotten in trouble at one time or the other," Roy grins, giving Jackie a friendly nudge, just before Domino presses upon him again. "We've got to stop meeting like this. But while you're here, share a donut?" Roy murmurs against her ear, before they crash into the parking lot, and gunfire opens.

"Goddamn it!" Roy howls. "You guys..."

And Roy reaches up, following Domino's command, and yanks down the rocket launcher.

"You guys are total fuckin' cockblockers!"

And boom goes the launcher.

Well, more accurately, 'THUMP' goes the launcher, as it's not a rocket launcher, but a grenade launcher. Jackie sighs as the canister sails out of the back of the Lambo and ... nothing happens as the canister bounces off of the Hummer's grill and scitters to the side of the parking lot where large plumes of smoke suddenly appear. "Loaded with smoke rounds." he says idly as he rounds another corner and a slug takes the side mirror off of the Lambo and digs a furrow along the side of the car. "Which would be useful I think in another situation and less useful in this one. Also, that was the only shot... actually, I think there's a spare under the seat. Hey sexy, root around down there and see if there's another slug for that thing. I remember putting one there awhile ago."

The slugs begin to punch into the Lambo hard, the armor stops a few, but a couple punch clean through and Jackie hisses as one grazes his forearm, "Hey! This is Brooks Bros you inconsiderate jackass!" he screams out, eyeing the line shot into the sleeve of his suit. "Fucker just ruined my suit!" and the Lambo, but hey, pick your battles. He gets some open ground and puts it to use, blasting through a pair of intersections miraculously devoid of traffic and then takes the sharply circular entrance ramp onto the highway, "Welcome to Brooklyn." he says, "we make it to the Manhattan Bridge and I think we'll be home free. So to speak." The good news? The roads are more open, more room to move, and now the Lambo starts to show it's stuff, the Hummer begins to drift, slowly, inexorably, farther back.

"Smoke grenades..?" Domino's quick to blurt out as soon as the donut is out of harm's way. "Who the -fuck- loads -smoke- grenades!" Another bite is (angrily) torn off before she tosses the remaining half of the baked good up toward Roy, fishing around within the cramped and dark space beneath the dash and passenger seat in search of another round. "It's not useless if you know how to use it."

Shell in hand she leaves the pastry to Roy so she might wrestle the launcher from his hands, popping the spent shell from the breech and dropping a new one in even as she climbs across the other man and back out onto the door. "Hang onto me, would ya?"


"-Fuck,- I just said that."

With a snap of the wrist she locks the launcher closed over the Lambo's roof, holding it at arm's length while her aim sweeps back, tracking the Hummer as it starts to become distant. Steady, Domino...


The shell majestically arcs up and away from the Lamborghini, whistling a merry little tune as it soars over so much traffic, smacks against a street lamp, and neatly drops into the Hummer's interior. In a flash the entire cabin is filled with very dense smoke.

Cheech and Chong would approve.

Chomping into the remaints of the donut while his handsa are occupied, Roy obediently hands over the launcher, before reaching behind him for his bow and a very specific arrow. Since Domino was occupied across Jackie's lap, Roy pops his body out the passenger side window, seated on the edge and takes aim behind them.


Behind them, the arrow impacts the pavement, and immediately ... freezes, creating a large sheet of ice across the road.

"Toodle-oo, guys. It's been fun!" Not that he had any great fear they'd kill themselves, at the speed they were going... but there was a matter of greater import- getting back into the seat before Domino does.

Jackie grins at Domino, "Someone who has to run from the cops and would prefer not to blow up a half dozen of New York's finest. They get all angry about it when you do." he points out. He doesn't opperate in some 3rd world country where you can just shoot whoever and walk away, he does his own work in his back yard. Collateral damage is frowned upon... and it's unprofessional. Domino's shot instantly sets the Hummer to swerving wildly, a move it was not designed to make, and at 60 mpg, it's more then enough to make the large SUV lose it's battle with gravity and twist into a sudden metalic crunching roll, bouncing up on occasion in a wild manner. Sully was still sticking out the window when it happened, "Well... Won't be seeing Sully at the ninety-third annual wise guy's dinner." Jackie mutters idly.

Through the wreckage and the smoke however an army of black SUV's appear, parting the clouds like Moses parted the Red Sea. Escalades, more Hummers, that freakin' VW Bus, the Yukon, they fan out over the four lane road and begin to pick up speed, forcing smaller cars off the road as they do. "Poop." Jackie states expressively as he looks at the rearview mirror. Up ahead the large Manhattan Bridge looms, it's suspension cables creating a hallway to Chinatown and presumably some sort of freedom. "Almost there." Jackie says as he presses down on the petal and narrows his eyes, the Lambo darting in and our of other cars as if they were standing still, it's engine racing. Around them other cars start to take heavy fire and swerve off the road, the 'ping thud ping ping thump' of various calibre rounds starting to pile onto the Lambo becomes more and more common as all of the large SUV's behind them start to pile on the firepower, fully auto weapons blazing away in true bullet hose spray and pray fashion. And they're the only bright red target on the road.

"That's a point," Dom concedes as she slips back inside. Hard to do with Jackie driving and all, but hey. Roy's had his turn. Unfortunately, he's about to have another round of company. First rule about a car chase: Don't screw with the driver.

Yeah, they totally broke that rule a few miles back.

With the bridge (and thus, a straight shot,) ahead, she holds on returning the fire for a while. Especially..with that passenger seat being free. In a flash she darts into the bucket seat, like she had been there all along. It's time to let Harper do the dancing, darnitall. The incoming fire doesn't seem to be doing much to these three and, at this range and speed, even her aim would be questionable. Now's a time to reload and rearm. And retaliate from the friendly verbal jabs that are flying with as much frequency as the automatic fire they all get to share. Banter aside, they're turning out to be a surprisingly decent team.

Now, about those Cajun fries...

Darn it -all-. Now Roy has to be the one to scramble for room and... you know what? He was just going to stay put, dangling on the window sill. "Hey! DOM! Make yourself useful, gimme the quiver!"

Reaching down for the quiver, it takes him a few seconds to realize...

"Sorry, Dom!" Roy exclaims as -this- time he grabs ahold of the quiver and selects two arrows. Fumbling briefly, Roy puts -both- arrows against the bow.

Using his legs to wrap around Domino for balance, Roy takes aim once more, tongue sticking out as he considers exactly where to aim. Pulling back the bowstring, Roy fires both explosive arrow and ice arrow -at the same time-. Because if he had the timing down- and he -did-... he'd be sending back a hail of -ice shrapnel- into the cars. Hail -this-!

Roy's shot has a decided effect, mostly of taking out the windows and windshields of the Hummer's behind them, causing a few of the cars to juke wildly and a couple to collide, one rolling while the other simply sends the VW bus onto it's side and into a long slow skid. Seriously, who brings one of those to a gun fight anyway? It causes enough confusion that for a few moments, the gunfire from behind them comes to a halt, allowing Jackie more time to focus on what's ahead.

And he grits his teeth at what he sees, the CXT that's been missing since the beginning of the chase is set grill towards them wrong way on a one way stretch. Behind it a car carrier semi and a milk tanker truck are jack knifed together blocking off the entirety of the bridge. Everyone on the bridge is cleared out of the way and Jackie squints to see why. From the back of the CXT he can spot it, and he starts to swerve madly. WUMPWUMPWUMPWUMP goes the mounted gun on the back of the massive diesel powered truck, a gun that wasn't there when they saw it before, but now is apparently set in position firmly. The man behind the .50 cal staring straight at them from a stationary seat has every single advantage in the world. Jackie doesn't slow down.

He looks ahead and his jaw sets and he presses himself deeper into the drivers seat in an almost relaxed manner as a trio of .50 rounds blow the windshield completely out of the Lambo, one passing close enough to his head to take a few of Jackie's long hairs with it. The safety glass sprays around them like snow flakes, but is gone in the blink of an eye, leaving only a few minor cuts along unprotected cheeks and foreheads. Jackie speaks over the roar of the wind, "Hey Arsenal! Wanna do me a solid? We'll call it paying me back for the lapdance!" the engine of the Lambo roars again and it accelerates, under cutting the next wave of machine gun fire, though something from the engine coughs and sputters and sounds suddenly not so healthy. "Mind taking a moment of your snuggle time with gorgeous there and seeing about releasing the ramp for me?" which is to say, Roy needs to hit the car carrier's ramp release hand, a target an inch wide, almost 100 yards out, from not an ideal seated position, in a moving car, under heavy fire... or Jackie's going to drive them all at an insane rate of speed directly into the back of a raised car carrier, potentially decapitating them all and cutting the Lambo in half the unpleasant way. "Cause that'd be super, hero." he grins at his own pun as he shifts the Lambo up a gear, the bad engine noises getting louder under the sudden increased strain but the speed continues to pick up. "I'm hilarious."


The quiver is held up for Roy. If he's lucky, he won't catch the gaze coming from the woman that's holding it out for him. At least he apologized for it. Not that it keeps her from thinking about driving a knife into his calf. It's -right there- and -everything.- But, Roy redeems himself in a way that no apology could ever hope to. His trick, with the arrows. "Fucking -ace,- man." This is why she's willing to put up with his abrasive nature. The man's just plain -good- at shooting, whether it's with a weapon or with his mouth.

Any further back-patting is going to have to wait, Domino giving an involuntary yelp as the windshield is shot to glass pebbles and dust. "That's a goddamn M2!" In a heartbeat the statistics are in her mind. Rate of fire, number of rounds until requiring a barrel replacement for both the standard and heavy variants, projectile grains, powder charge, maximum lethal range, bullet drop per yard...

Armored or not, this Lamborghini is seconds away from becoming Swiss cheese. But, if anyone alive could make a shot like that one on demand? Yeah... Arsenal's your man. They could gamble it all on luck, or they could go all in and bet on the man who's consistently spot-on.

"Just like spearing HINDs in the Siberian mountains, kiddo! Land that shot."

Because they're all dead if he misses. No pressure, or anything. In the meantime though, she's going to empty the remainder of that G36 toward the gunner for cover fire. No one likes getting shot back at.

Oh for... Grabbing for the quiver again, this time all business, Roy grits his teeth. "Dammit Jackie, you -had- to pick one -really expensive woman-." the redhead archer shouts, as he grabs a regular arrow. Accuracy and pointpoint control was going to be needed here. An inch wide, 100 yards out, and Roy had to -ignore- the gunfire coming from behind him?



And slowly, the ramp descends, slowly, slowly...

The shot is... well, if Jackie didn't have to try to line up a Lambo going entirely to fast with a pair of 10 inch wide steel ramps with no room for error under heavy fire from an M2 with a woman firing an assault rifle less then three feet from his head... He'd have said something glib, something both arrogant and charmingly witty. He'd have been cute and cool and awesome all at once, he would have said something that would have under cut Roy's chance of using that shot later to get the girl. He would have done a lot of things. Instead, he kept his fool mouth shut, and focused on lining up the shot...

Domino's firing forces the man to duck behind the truck, the barrel of the M2 swinging wildly out of position, sending rounds racing out over the river and into empty space, giving Jackie just enough room to breath, just enough time to concentrate, to nudge the wheel ever so slightly...

CLANG!! The Lamgo suddenly changes angle, it's armored front fender simply ripping free under the strain and sailing up over their heads as they're suddenly pointed up, the windshield filled with the image of the tops of buildings, the clear blue of the winter sky over New York, the decorations of Chinatown as they sail over the end of the Manhattan Bridge and into the City Proper. Then they tip slightly. The engine is in the back of the Lambo, which means they won't be landing nose down, they won't be skidding out of this in a nice slide and drive off. In fact, soon the decorations disappear from view, then the majority of the tops of buildings, and in a moment they realize they mostly see blue sky, wispy clouds, and that they are angled almost vertically as they near the street beyond. "Well, that was dumb." Jackie says through gritted teeth as he lets go of the wheel and puts his arms at his sides. At this point, everything's out of his control... Impact.

Next: 6 Hours to Sunset

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