Road Trip 2038: Interstate of Anarchy IC

[Elejamie]

As the other driver began to explain why he got an early start, namely to avoid incurring the wrath of his boss, Karl nodded as he understood that feeling. After all, back when he was in Newcastle doing deliveries after the collapse of society, there was a story going around about a driver that was killed by the person who made the order after it arrived a few hours late; while the details were a bit fuzzy and there were theories that the order itself was a trap designed to lure unsuspecting drivers, it was something that still stuck with him. And, guessing by how powerful this company the other guy's working for as opposed to some gang, he didn't want to know what would happen if this guy's boss found out his order of whatever it is was running a bit late. He didn't say what he was delivering though, nor were Brayden and Karl particularly interested in finding out as it wasn't their job, but they did figure it was something big and therefore was worthy of secrecy.

Afterwards, not only did he say that the convoy would catch up to him, he thanked the duo for letting him know about the bandit situation. Upon hearing the "over", Brayden got to work on his response. "10-4." He began, with a hint that he understood why the other driver got a headstart and why he didn't want to go into detail with what he had, before carrying on with that train of thought. "Don't worry about me and Karl trying to figure out your goods, it's not our job and I'm sure it's something big. We the convoy are in range of you and should catch up shortly, so keep your speed and give us a signal to let us know you're part of us to avoid accidents. And no worries about the bandit sitch update, just remain alert." As he had nothing else to say, nor did he want to keep bugging the other guy for the sake of it, Brayden eventually said one last word to let the other person know that the conversation was over. "Out." He then put the microphone back in its usual place and laid back in his seat, staring out of the front window a little bit so he can keep an eye out on any bandits that could potentially ambush the convoy.

[Flarbinia]

The convoy had finally caught up to Connor and Honda, the two having been on the lookout for bandits. "We will be out of range of the snipers in five minutes. For all you new people, that means that we will be on our own. Open fucking season for any bandit looking to get a big score. As for everyone else, any merchants we come across will not be accepting Ration Gin or 35% Beer as currency. In case you were wondering, I have heard the rumor of a mercenary patrol going missing. It could just be a rumor, but that does not mean we could let our guard down. Did any of you get that, over?" Connor Davis said over the radio before making a short pause.

[Elejamie]

Shortly after the conversation between the two ended, the rest of the convoy did finally manage to catch up to Connor and Honda, as Brayden said they would. And, indeed, Connor would speak again, primarily to let them know a number of things. The first thing he told them was that they'll be out of range of any friendly snipers in five minutes, meaning that any cargo vehicles will have to depend on the security vehicles for protection, especially since a number of them were carrying quite valuable stuff. After something about how merchants won't be accepting gin or beer as payment, he'd go onto a rumour he heard about a missing mercenary patrol. which worried both Karl and Brayden for a couple of brief seconds before they immediately stepped out of it. After all, it was a rumour and there was a good chance it turned out to be false. Either way, Connor warned everyone not to let their guard down before asking if everyone on the other end of the line understood.

When it was his turn to speak, Brayden grabbed the microphone from where it was, pressed the button and spoke into it to reply to Connor. "Loud and clear." He began, before slipping in a quick couple of questions before everyone else answered Connor's question. After all, that missing mercenary patrol intrigued him (as well as Karl to an extent) and he was wondering what he should keep an eye out for, primarily to avoid taking out any random innocents regardless of whether or not they turn out to be real. "Any info on the rogue patrol? What they look like? Any signs they're in the vicinity? Over."

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

White lightning's electric engine rattled and jingled the many loose items in the small cargo netting pouches beside and above Marcus' head as he pulled alongside the formation coming out of St. Louis. A 25 vehicle convoy was much bigger than the usual targets his old crew would pick out which was a solace in itself. This by itself was promising but when the opportunity for a delivery to Portland came up, the seasoned smuggler was all but sold on working in a relatively legitimate manner again. The goods were carefully sealed the way Arturo always had, his signature 'seals' on the black plastic packaging would make sure any courier or smuggler that might get curious was certain to lose their paycheck. Once they'd been properly stowed it was simply a matter of waiting for the vehicles to arrive to link up and begin their road-trip from hell.

The small radio unit slaved to his vehicle's batteries howled to life as someone gave a warning of one of the local patrols going dark. Could have been any number of things, including the group deciding to throw their hands up and break bad. Even still it was enough to set "Magpie" on edge enough to take lead. He took a quick scan of the vehicles, plenty of unarmored targets which concerned him enough to pick up the mouthpiece on his radio "all convoy members present this is Marcus Finch, call-sign White Lightning, acknowledging last, will move ahead of convoy one kilometer to monitor for potential threats, how copy?" he offered before pulling off the road once opportunity provided it to swing away from the road and onto the dirt before barreling ahead of the lead vehicle.

He wasn't exactly sporting the best in armor plating but being able to get in and out of trouble in short order would make due in this case.

[Flarbinia]

"They are your typical military patrol: armed to the teeth, staying in constant contact with nearest city, stubble, and driving around in armored vehicles. Anyone who can take them out without someone sounding any alarms is someone I don't want to mess with, over." Connor Davis said before switching the knob to the frequency of the man who had identified himself as White Lightning. "Attention, White Lightning. I think I see vultures in the distance. Can you confirm, over?" Connor Davis said to the man who identified himself as White Lightning before switching the knob back to the convoy wide frequency, guaranteeing that every driver would hear White Lightning's response.

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

The last station had mentioned vultures in the distance, there certainly were rather large birds but hitting someone this close to town? Seemed a stretch, but Magpie wasn't about to let that stop him "Last station, White Lightning, copy suspected bugbait, moving forward" and with the throttle finally pulled ahead of the convoy before reaching down with his left hand to reach for his spyglass, with both hands off the wheel and back on the blacktop he extended it and looked out, black-grey heads, white legs, black feathers... "All stations, White Lightning, confirm possible bugbait, black vultures ahead. Moving forward to investigate further, how copy?"

With a slap against the wheel the spyglass was collapsed and promptly stowed back into it's compartment beside him. With his hands back on the wheel Marcus sped up again to figure out whether or not they were dealing with roadkill or some seriously brave idiots to make a gun run this close to town on a convoy. The little voice at the back of his mind kept telling him to go for his pistol just in case but anyone that could crash the party on a half-competent mercenary convoy wasn't likely to be deterred by a 6 gun.

[Flarbinia]

"You should reach that area in half an hour, White Lightning. Of course, if the mercenary patrol was taken out by bandits, the question would be which gang took them out. The Copper Ravens are not organized enough to coordinate an assault on such a heavily armored target and the Bronze Vipers are not equipped for an attack on a group of heavily armed mercenaries, so that leaves the Black Riders and the Sons of Fenrir as the only suspects, over." Connor Davis said after turning the know of his radio to White Lightning's frequency, changing it back to convoy wide after he revealed the names of the two bandit gangs that could have attacked the mercenary patrol. "Now that we will soon be out of range of the snipers, I will now play some tunes to calm the nerves, over." Connor Davis said over the Radio before pressing the play button on the CD player, the Tyr song "God of War" playing.

[Elejamie]

Just before they got a reply from Connor, Karl and Brayden (as well as the rest of the convoy) got a message from someone calling themselves Marcus Finch, aka "White Lightning", asking if he was allowed to check if there were any enemies up ahead. While Karl was trying to hold off on jokes about why someone would nickname themselves after a cheap brand of cider that hasn't existed for nearly 30 years, Brayden listened out to the reply to his question. It turned out that this military patrol was just like your standard patrol (armed, stubbled and driving around in armoured vehicles), before explaining that anyone who could take them out without raising suspicion isn't one to be trifled with. Fortunately, just before Connor changed the frequency, Brayden managed to slip in a quick response: "Understood. Out."

He didn't hear the conversation between Connor and Marcus, if only because he didn't feel like tuning into their frequency and either butting into their conversation or just listening in without contributing. However, he catch a glimpse of a small dune buggy through the gaps of the vehicles next to him driving by and assumed that it was someone either trying to get a move on or a scout trying to get a good view of any dangers that would lie ahead for the convoy. In the meanwhile, Brayden opened his flask of tea back up and drank straight from the flask again, before screwing the cap back on when he was done. "Won't mind a drink myself, Bray." Karl said, pointing at his flask in between the driver's seat and the passenger's seat. Brayden then looked over at it and opened it up, pouring some out of the cup and essentially feeding it to Karl, as he didn't want to take his eyes off the road and he wanted to keep both hands on the steering wheel. "Ta, lad." Karl said after he finished drinking all of the tea that was in the cup.

"No worries." Brayden said, screwing it back onto the flask and putting it back where it was.

Later on, the two heard a message on the radio. It turned out to be from that White Lightning fellow, confirming that there are vultures in the area. Presumably actual vultures instead of metaphorical ones, guessing by the description given, but either way it didn't do anything to lighten the mood. Especially since they couldn't hear which gangs caused it, due to the conversation being on a different frequency and the two didn't particularly want to join in the conversation regardless of whether or not they had anything to contribute. After a little while of silence, Connor spoke up and said that he was going to put on some music just to calm everyone's nerves. And the first song that played was a metal song. While Brayden liked a bit of metal, this particular song wasn't really his cup of tea so he stuck his earphones back in and carried on with his Tom Waits song. Karl, on the other hand, wasn't super into metal (he didn't hate it or anything, he just paid no real attention to it) but still listened to the music without any complaints while he was driving. After all, at least it killed both time and any awkward silence.

[Flarbinia]

Once the convoy was out of range of the sniper towers, Connor Davis pressed the pause button on the CD player. "Attention, everyone. We are on our own. There is no going back now. I hope you brought plenty of ammo, over and out." Connor said to the rest of the convoy before eating one of the coyote burgers.

In a Ford Explorer behind Karl and Brayden, a man in a gas mask turned the dial on his radio to a scrambled government frequency, guaranteeing that the convoy wouldn't hear his conversation. "Festus to HQ. Marcus Finch AKA Magpie AKA White Lightning is confirmed to be a part of the supply convoy, over." Oliver Roscoe said to the man on the other side of the line. "HQ to Festus. Do not hesitate to apprehend the suspect at the first opportunity. Remember, as a member of the Undercover Division, you have carte blanche when it comes to dealing with witnesses, so don't hesitate to kill anyone who gets in your way, over and out." The man on the other side of the line said to Stan Festus, the agent switching the radio back to convoy wide to avoid suspicion.

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

It'd been a silent ride forward before finally arriving at the suspected bug-bait site. The tell-tale smoke-trails coming up over the hills becoming more distinct as he approached said everything necessary and the smuggler immediately cursed his luck. A moment later he keyed the receiver on his radio All stations, White lightning, we have bugbait. Convoy, not the guns for hire reported....counting 3....no make that 4 vehicles, not seeing any movement-" the report was interrupted when a rifle round ricocheted off the frame of his vehicle into one of the stowage cases on the left side of his dune-buggy causing him to drop the mouthpiece for a moment before snatching it up again SHOTS FIRED, SHOTS FIRED, White Lightning under fire" he reported as he attempted to calm himself before another round zipped through the open vehicle's driver compartment less than 6 inches from his head embedding in the steel frame on the opposite side. Moments later automatic gunfire erupted in the distance. Pulling a near 90-degree turn Marcus tore off the road and onto the dirt hoping to put the solar panels and any other obstructions between him and his aggressors.

"Dont worry" he'd said, "It'll be an easy paycheck" he said "Who'd dare mess with a convoy this size" Arturo said. He was going to have words with the Spaniard after this, likely with a 6-gun halfway down the little smug fucker's throat. None of the auto-fire was touching anywhere near his vehicle, so it was either a short range weapon or the gunner had no idea what he was doing. Both were comforting as he made a wide turn back towards the road. Several more clouds of dust kicked up several feet ahead and beside his vehicle as he hurried back towards the protection of more bodies between him and whoever was shooting.

[Elejamie]

Just as soon as Brayden's song finished, as well as a couple of seconds into the next song on the album, Karl and Brayden got a message from Connor. It turned out that they were out of sight of the friendly snipers and now the convoy's on its own, solely protected by the security vehicles and anyone on board the cargo, scout or other vehicles who were smart enough to bring a weapon with them. Not just that but he also said that he hoped that everyone brought enough ammo. Brayden quietly said to himself "Way ahead of you, mate." After all, not only were Hector and Lucille fully loaded but he also had a couple of spare magazines in his pockets and a few clips he could easily load into the magazines once they're empty. However, something didn't really sit right with Brayden after the message ended. It turned out that Connor used the phrase "over and out", something that really bugged Brayden because of how incorrect it is, especially since he actually served time in the military and as a security guard and was told never to use that, just "out" if he's ending a conversation.

Just before he was about to send a transmission correcting this mistake, something happened. There was another message, this time from Marcus. It turned out that he managed to find the missing convoy. And, from the sound of it, it wasn't a pretty sight due to a complete lack of movement in the cars. However, just before he was about to carry on with his update of the now-found patrol, a shot rang out over the radio. It went silent for a moment, with the two of them fearing the worst, before Marcus spoke again letting the convoy know he was under fire. As the two in the Ram 1500 kept hearing the gunfire in the distance, with Karl briefly looking out of his window to catch a brief look of Marcus' dune buggy before looking back at the road ahead of him, Brayden picked up the mouthpiece and tried to contact Marcus, repeating the phrase "White Lightning, this is Brock the Ram. Can you pinpoint the exact location of the enemy fire? And do you require backup? Over." until he got the right frequency.

[Flarbinia]

Seeing White Lightning heading towards the convoy, Connor Davis turned his radio to White Lightning's Frequency stepped on the accelerator and headed in the direction of the clouds, Honda following him. "White Lightning, your distress call has been received. I am moving to intercept any pursuers. How many bogeys have you encountered, over?" Connor Davis said to White Lightning over the radio as the engine of the Ford F-150 roared, switching the radio back to convoy wide as he got closer, keeping a safe distance from the dune buggy.

In his Ford Explorer, Agent Stan Festus weighed his options. His superiors made it very clear that Marcus Finch was to die in the electric chair, not killed by a bandit or a wild animal or some random drunk. However, it was too early to abandon stealth, as he needed to blend in to get close enough to apprehend the former Sons of 6 member.

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

The gunfire had picked up considerably, automatic gunfire had sheared the top of the roll cage off sending a solar panel peeling off across the side of the road crunching and crashing against the ground at high speeds and one had even cracked a solar panel on the rear of the vehicle before a bullet made it's mark clipping one of his tires sending the buggy zig-zagging across the terrain before Marcus put the brakes to a halt "ALL STATIONS WHITE LIGHTNING UNDER EFFECTIVE FIRE, NUMBERS UNKNO-" the transmission was cut out as a bullet punched through the radio of his vehicle. Off in the distance, he could see his enemies advancing, As he crawled out, dragging his rifle and ammunition with him, he unlocked the stowage compartment on the left side of the vehicle he was taking cover behind, ready to flee with the rucksack within. Much as he hated to leave her, the old girl had already seen better days and the continued horrendous amounts of gunfire was only becoming worse. He shouldered his rifle, laying it across the stowage container and driver's seat and fired at the first aggressor who had revealed himself from beneath a camouflaged cloak alongside the road he'd just passed.

The .357 bolt-action rifle boomed with a surprising authority before his first aggressor fell from a chest wound. Magpie cycled the bolt again and took cover as another enemy approached, waiting for the lapse in his attacker's gunfire as he reloaded before sitting up, bracing his weapon again and firing, the arterial spurt of blood from the man's throat told him all he needed to know before he ducked down again, gunfire raking the cases of water and canned food on the other side of his vehicle which served as impromptu armor but not for much longer. Another brace, another round fired and one of the machinegun crews resting on a hill off in the distance became silent for a moment before the gun began spitting it's deadly payload again.

Somewhere off to his right he heard voices, drawing his Medusa, he turned and took aim at 2 more enemies, firing 5 shots out of his revolver to drop them. It was only seconds later that the horror occurred to him of who his aggressors were.

He'd worked with the "Axing 89ers" before, formerly a group of miners and lumberjacks turned mercenaries and raiders. They'd made a terrifying reputation down in Oklahoma along I-89 for effective and devastating ambushes. He knew one of the men he'd just drilled 2 holes through as a lieutenant for the 89ers, The son of a bitch had owed him 30$ from a bet he'd made while working for the Sons of 6 on a raid on a weapons convoy. He knew he'd pissed off Michael, the master of arms of the sons of 6, but he didn't think they'd go this far to bag him.

He opened the cylinder on his revolver, pressing a thumb to the still live round remaining before dropping the rest and frantically pulling rounds out of the bag on his side to load his revolver before another burst of MG fire tore the solar panel array off his dune-buggy like an angry redneck crushing a beer can. The shattered glass cut his face as he slammed the cylinder shut and holstered it, raising his rifle to continue his defense. If these bastards were coming for him, they were gonna have to work for their paycheck....

[Flarbinia]

Connor Davis switched the radio back to convoy wide as the communication died out with a gunshot, hearing gunshots as he got closer to White Lightning's location, some of which he recognized as machinegun fire. "White Lightning is pinned! I repeat, White Lightning is pinned, over and out!" Connor Davis said over the radio as he headed towards the gunshots, Honda continuing to follow him. "This is Oliver Roscoe. I am breaking off from the wolf pack to provide assistance. We can't afford to lose our scout, over." Oliver Roscoe said over the radio as he drifted the Ford Explorer to the side before straightening up and heading in Connor's direction.

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

a good 30 rounds of various pistol ammunition later and the gunfire was nowhere near it's end. It was time to abandon the old girl, the very thought of it hurt worse than the gunshots he'd suffered years before, worse than the kidney stones he occasionally had to pass with little more than hard liquor to dull the pain. Another round fired, cycle the bolt, fire again, his mark toppled like a house of cards as his target's kneecap shattered leaving the man a screaming wreck like White Lightning was now. Suddenly it was as though something broke inside him however, his mind flashed to all the time he and Georgie had spent working on the old girl.

For years the buggy had helped him ferry much needed illegally gathered organs to much needed recipients. Ferrying guns to militia groups in desperate need of protection from raiders In the years since the fall (sure, perhaps at slightly marked up prices and from convoys the sons of 6 had knocked over), knock-off medicine for the much-needed sick or the occasional snake oil (Hey, mans gotta eat he joked grimly). White Lightning had been one of the last good possessions he kept all these years since mankind went to shit and now these ungrateful fuckers were tearing her apart without any love for the lives she'd saved (including his own). He could feel his heart pounding like it was trying to come straight out of his chest and maul the ungrateful heels itself before he stood up.

A snap-shot from his rifle took out another of the savages that sought nothing but ruin in an already ungrateful world. The sucking chest wound would almost assuredly take the 89er out of the fight. Another cycled round, aim, fire, the MG position he'd fired at before went silent once and for all. A ricochet off the front of the vehicle caught him in the stomach but Marcus was entirely too pumped up on adrenaline to register it as anything more than a sharp poke. 3 more shots in rapid succession brought another ambusher down and moderately injured the man behind him.

A bullet finally caught Magpie in the hip, only serving to drive him on even more, drawing his revolver to fire 2 more shots at an approaching raider taking aim with a shotgun, the man's brain's splattered across his compatriot who caught a round seconds later. Another bullet caught Marcus in the collar bone and threw him to the ground beside his vehicle. 17 lives for his own, that was a fair trade he presumed, he dropped his rifle to his side and made to reload his revolver one last time. Twenty of them, twenty was a nice round number and maybe it could make a difference in how many raids they'd try 'n pull in the near future. If he could take 3 more that was a fair trade he figured, provided he didn't bleed out before the insufferable bastards tried their luck.

[Elejamie]

Brayden got a bit concerned when he didn't receive a reply to his question. Though it could've easily been a situation where Brayden was on the wrong channel or Marcus was too busy trying to defend himself from bandits to actually answer the question, it was still a cause of concern for him. It probably helped that he didn't have a good view of either Marcus or Connor (and Honda, to a lesser extent), so he didn't know how either of them were holding up. He could, however, make out a faint figure or two in the distance, presumably they were part of the bandits. On the one hand, he didn't want to abandon the convoy to cover them; not because they didn't have enough firepower but rather because he didn't want the convoy to be underprotected and ambushed from the sides. On the other hand, he could just leave them and stay with their convoy but, despite not knowing one of them and having an argument with the other, he didn't want to abandon them to their fate.

So he had to formulate a plan. It wasn't his strong suit but they'd usually end up working a fair amount of the time. Plus, since he had Karl along with him it meant that he had someone to bounce ideas off of just so he could come up with something good. So, still holding the microphone in his hands but not pressing the button so he wouldn't transmit his thoughts and give the plan away just yet, he turned to Karl. "Got any ideas?" He asked, gently drumming his fingers on the mike as he tried to get his brain into gear.

"Aye," Karl began. "We could go up and clear a path or summat. Take them from another angle while White Lightning and the other lad fight them from there. Maybe get enough of them down so the convoy could get through."

"Could work." Brayden said, nodding as he came up with an idea of his own. "That Ford bloke and the horse bloke went up after him, maybe they can help him out. One to take him to the medic, the other to salvage his car. How's that sound?"

"Alreet wi' us, Bray." Karl said in approval of that other idea that Brayden said.

Having come up with what could be a good plan, Brayden tuned into Connor's station and broadcast a message: "Breaker, breaker one-five-oh, this is Brock the Ram. I want you and your horsey mate to do me a quick favour if possible. One of you rescue White Lightning and bring him back to the convoy for medical, the other rescue his car and either my buddy Karl and some other bloke fix it up or we scrap it and use it for parts. Cover him if necessary. Over." He then tuned into Marcus' station and then broadcast a message to him. "Breaker, breaker, White Lightning, this is call-sign Brock the Ram, Brayden Mossman speaking, call me Bray or Mossy. How far away are these bandits? Because we can take them from a different angle. Over." He took his finger off the button but kept a firm grip on the microphone, waiting to hear back from either of the people he was talking to before making his next move.

[Flarbinia]

Once Connor Davis got within visual range, he saw seven bandits armed with pistols and shotguns approaching a badly wounded White Lightning's position. "White Lightning is all banged up. I highly doubt that he will survive the night, but I will rescue him if possible. Also, you are lucky Honda didn't hear you call him "horsey mate". I called someone that and I got my ass kicked. Twice. In the same afternoon." He said over the radio as the bandits opened fire, the armor plating of the Ford F-150 protecting him from the gunshots. Honda, having gotten in range, loosed his arrows at the bandits, killing four of them. Connor Davis stopped his truck and turned so that the bullets would hit the passenger's side of his Ford F-150.

[Ayvalon]

Marcus Finch
Outskirts St Louis, MO
March 2nd, Morning

Somewhere in the darkness Marcus could see her, that beautiful smile, that red hair as brilliant as fire. Her eyes were as green as the emeralds of the isle she'd hailed from. He'd promised so long ago to end it, "One more job" he'd promised, "This is the big one, then i'm done, we can go wherever you like, live the life I promised you". She stood before him, in that breath-taking green dress he always loved, had taken on a job with the sole purpose of seeing her wear it with his arm around her. Susan had been his life and joy, and here she was once again standing before him. She'd died in the outbreak while he was off delivering a heart off the black market to some rich shit-head's son. Odds were the shit-head and his son were both dead by now, which only made the thought even worse as her hand brushed his cheek.

Hey she'd spoken softly, that voice...sweet as honey, smoother and more intoxicating than the finest bourbon....it was all he ever wanted, to hear her one last time. "I'm....i'm so sorry babe...I fucked up...I-" Susan interrupted him, her hand covering his mouth. Somewhere above the moment dimly Magpie could hear the gunfire coming back to him...he knew what it meant and he dreaded it. He took her hand away and pleaded "Please baby, i'm sorry, I just wanna-" he got out before she covered his mouth again "ssshhh, just one more job, remember? Just...one...more....they need you...." and just like that she was gone....

Ambiance

Magpie gasped back to life, the gunfire was as intense as he remembered, the revolver's cylinder sitting open, loaded and ready to close...he'd even managed to get a few speed loaders ready.....He smiled, One more job left...He looked up to see vehicles from the convoy rolling up, drawing all the fire he'd been suffering minutes before. He took a few deep breaths, his everything hurt and he only had another one or two left in him. They'd have to count....He may've done plenty of good in the world but it was time to show just how much hate he could spit right back at it before that flame went out for good he supposed. These folks deserved that much, noone should have to die for his piss poor choices.

He stood up, screaming bloody murder and every racial slur and hateful word in a vocabulary from nearly 2 decades of criminal work. Another shot boomed out, taking his first mark in the chest, it was clear a few of the 89ers were stunned, figuring the smuggler dead. Another booming shot took a man's hip out, then a 3rd, 4th and 5th took out another shotgunner, after unslinging his rifle he hurled it at one of his attackers stunning him for the split second he needed before emptying his braincase.

Another gutshot caught Marcus, an empty cylinder, load, 3 more rounds, drop one of the mg teams moments before he lost his footing, glancing down just long enough to notice a bullet-hole through his calf. He snatched up a shotgun and blasted another rifleman poking out from behind a tree, he caught a glimpse of the man's ribcage before racking the slide and shouldering the shotgun. The bullets screaming in his ears, it was hard to duck and dodge anymore, he tumbled to the ground it hurt so fucking much, but Susan had demanded one more job...One...More...Job....With each syllable of the thought he'd fired and racked the shotgun, the world went dark again as another round caught him in the back....

[Flarbinia]

Connor Davis got out of his Ford F-150 and fired his Colt single action, the rifleman that had shot White Lightning getting his brains blown out all over the ground. A bandit with a carbine pointed his gun at Connor Davis, only for Honda to loose an arrow into his neck, the man dropping his gun and falling to the ground as he choked on his own blood. Connor Davis then holstered his pistol and ran towards White Lightning, hoisting the wounded scout over his shoulder and running back to his truck. "Hang in there, you son of a bitch. You ain't dying today." Connor Davis said to White Lightning as he placed the man in the passenger seat, closed the door, and floored it back towards the convoy, Honda dismounting and running towards the nearest rock large enough to be considered cover. "White Lightning is unconscious and bleeding out all over the passenger seat. Bastard is still breathing, but cleaning off dried bloodstains is coming out of my pay. Honda needs immediate backup, over and out." Connor Davis said over the radio before turning it off to avoid being distracted.

[Elejamie]

Brayden waited for roughly ten seconds for a reply from White Lightning. After all, he got through to Connor OK so there shouldn't be any problems with a message back from Marcus with his thoughts on the plan. Which made Brayden very concerned. Either Marcus was ignoring him for some unknown reason. Or...

"Bastard must've turned his radio off." Brayden said to himself, still gripping the microphone in his hand as he came to one conclusion as to why things were quiet on the other end of the line.

"Hm?" Karl made a noise, paying a bit of attention to his passenger but mainly concentrating on the road ahead, primarily to see where he's going but also to keep an eye out for any bandits that might be ahead of them.

"Newbie's gone quiet." Brayden explained, turning to Karl as he did so. "So either his radio's off or the bastards up there must've gotten him."

"Or the wrang station." Karl offered an explanation of his own.

"Or the wrong station, yeah." Brayden said, quietening down as he reached the end of the sentence as he realised that that could've also been a valid reason why Marcus wasn't saying anything back to him. And while they could've left the convoy to check things out for themselves and, as a result, find out the reason for the quietness, they decided that it wasn't worth abandoning it just to check out what the situation was. Things were quiet in the Ram for a couple of seconds before Brayden spoke again. "Besides, I bet that Russian chick and her mates are wondering why the hell we're calling her White Lightning or something like that, ay?"

"Aye," Karl said, smiling a little bit as he remembered who Brayden was talking about. "She's a canny lass, isn't she?

"I don't know, mate, you know she's not my type!" Brayden said back jokingly, smiling a little bit as well. However, unlike Karl who was smiling because he was attracted to someone (which'll probably fade by the time the convoy reaches its destination and they all go their separate ways), Brayden was smiling because of the camaraderie between the two, especially since they've only really known each other for about six months. Another brief period of silence happened before Brayden spoke up again. "Going to message the other guy now, he's probably wondering why we're quiet."

"Alreet." Karl said as he went back to paying full attention to the road. In the distance he could make out one or two dark figures but they weren't clear enough to decide whether or not he should alert Brayden, if he should assist them or if he should do a third, completely different thing.

Just as soon as Karl finished his sentence, Brayden tuned back to Connor's radio station and got ready to send him a reply back, only to get another message back from Connor. It turned out that any worst fears they had about White Lightning were somewhat confirmed; while he wasn't dead and was instead merely unconscious, he would very well be dead if he didn't receive any medical attention. Not to mention that Honda needed some backup, probably because there were too many bandits for one man to handle. They could ask Connor where Honda was but, due to him essentially saying "over and out" they didn't want to bother him again. Besides, Karl didn't want Brayden to have a go at Connor through the radio for using a phrase he disliked. So it was plan time again. "So what now? Should we go back around and take them from behind." Karl simply shrugged in a "might as well" sort of way. At that point, Brayden broadcasted a message to the rest of the convoy. "All stations, this is Brock the Ram, I'm gonna go off and help that Honda bloke that other guy was talking about. I'm guessing his mate will rejoin the convoy but I'd advise everyone keep on their toes just in case this is a distraction. Keep your gat on you if you have one and keep talking to each other. Out."

And at that point Karl stepped on it before making a u-turn, heading over to what might be Honda's location to provide some much needed backup. Indeed, they could spot a whole group of bandits in the distance and, wanting to let Honda know backup has arrived, Brayden opened his window to line up his sights. A risky manoeuver, yes, but it was much better than the alternative of getting out of his vehicle to fire at them, if only because it would wasted a few precious seconds. Loading up Hector and turning the safety off, he aimed towards a group of bandits and fired a few shots at them, taking down a couple of the bandits. Sticking a thumbs up out of the window, holding it aloft as a signal to let Honda know he had someone on his side, Brayden loudly said, with his Australian accent loud and clear "You alright, me cobber?"

[Flarbinia]

"As you can clearly see, I am behind cover and my armor has no bullet holes, so I am obviously fine! Do I look like someone who fixes shoes for a living? Keep it up and I will revive the Samurai practice of killing the disrespectful!" Honda said to Brayden in the tone of a man that had been grievously insulted, annoyed by being called a cobbler. Normally, Honda would let a nickname slide, but the repair of shoes was a peasant's trade and he, like his ancestors, was a Samurai. Oliver Roscoe drifted until the passenger seat was facing the enemy, the armor plating of his Ford Explorer protecting him from rifle fire. He got out of the vehicle and opened fire with his luger when eight of the bandits got in range, each shot landing right between their eyes.

[Elejamie]

As he was being berated by Honda, who appeared to not understand Australian slang, Brayden fired off a few more shots from Hector, taking out one bandit and severely wounding another. After one last shot, which essentially finished the job, he turned around to face Honda with a confused look his face, simply saying "What?" This wasn't because he didn't hear the other person, in fact he could just about make out what he was saying underneath the gunfire, but he was absolutely confused by what he said, why he took offence and how he got a shoemaker from an Aussie slang word for a friend.

"Leave it, Bray." Karl said, opening his flask of tea as he left his partner to fire a few more rounds. "He can't speak Australian."

"Yeah, no shit." Brayden said back, before looking over at Honda. "Anyway, when we're breaking or camping for the night, I have to teach you and your mate 'Strayan. For now, let's get you back to the convoy." While Brayden was speaking and Karl was drinking his tea, a shot rang out from a distance, causing them both to jump and Karl to nearly spill his tea. Fortunately, Brayden lined up his sights and fired off a couple more shots, which resulted in another dead bandit. He then followed this up with a warning shot that somehow ended up grazing another bandit's hand and caused him to drop his gun; a shot that surprised him because he never actually got that to happen before. Just as soon as Karl finished his cup of tea and screwed the lid back onto his flask, Brayden turned back around to face Honda to speak again. "So how do you wanna do this, mate? Do you want us to clear a path for you or are we taking one side while you have the other?"

[Flarbinia]

"The second option. If you mean Australian, don't bother teaching it to me. You still insulted me, Bray. Consider yourself lucky I am letting you off with a warning." Honda said to Brayden before loosing an arrow at an approaching bandit, the arrow hitting its mark. Oliver Roscoe reloaded and fired off three shots, taking out three more bandits.

Connor Davis made it back to the convoy, White Lightning barely alive. He stopped the Ford F-150, got out, and opened the passenger door. As he grabbed the injured scout, he saw a revolver cylinder with the word "Sons of 6" tattooed on the back of his neck. "Bastard is lucky my boss pays more for a Son of 6 alive than a corpse." Connor Davis muttered to himself as he carried the man out of the truck.

[Elejamie]

Upon hearing that he apparently insulted Honda, Brayden sighed a little bit as he began to explain what he meant earlier. "Cobber." He began. "C-O-double B-E-R. It's Aussie for friend. I dunno where the hell you got cobbler from, mate." He sighed again, a little more quietly this time, as he wanted to put all of this behind him and get on good enough terms so that they could both get back to the convoy. "But whatever, we can kill each other later."

"Twat might beat ya to it." Karl quickly said, pointing towards the injured bandit that Brayden had shot at earlier. The bandit in question was holding his arm underneath his arm, as if he was trying to stop the bleeding, whereas he was holding his pistol in the other hand. Firing wildly, as it wasn't his dominant hand, he tried to shoot at Brayden but he kept missing his shots either hitting the car itself or going wide. Brayden fired a few more shots at the bandit from Hector, which would go on to finish the job and take the bandit out for good.

"Cheers, Karl." Brayden said, lookin over at his driver and giving him a thumbs up. In return, Karl lifted up his flask of tea as a sort of salute. In return, Brayden quickly opened up his flask, drank a few glugfuls from the bottle before he screwed the lid back on again. Putting it back where he was, he turned back over to Honda and spoke to him again. "Anyway, when you're ready, we'll make it back to the rest of the convoy."

[Flarbinia]

"It is hard to understand someone when engines are roaring and bullets are flying. My horse has rested long enough for us to head back." Honda scoffed over the roar of the engine as he got back on his horse and rode towards the convoy, Oliver Roscoe heading in the same direction. "Are you Aussies coming or not, over?" Oliver Roscoe said over the radio as he sped towards the convoy.

Connor Davis left White Lightning in the care of the medics as he entered his vehicle and turned the radio back on, the interior smelling like blood. "The docs are doing what they can for White Lightning, but don't expect any miracles. He's pretty banged up, inside and out. If white Lightning survives, we will need to proceed with additional caution until he is back on his feet. You read me, over?" Connor Davis said to everyone who was listening before eating one of his coyote burgers.