Of Kings and Pawns (IC)

[KasperXIII]

In the nearby forests in the outskirts...

With a slew of distractions in place to keep the detectives-in-pursuit held up for a considerable amount of time, Reeves and the remainder of his crew managed to put great distance between himself and anyone who might've seen where he was going, or following him by GPS. They traversed the forests along the guidance of a disabled Damien in order to find out where exactly the 'blessed child' was hiding out. Under different circumstances, Reeves would've considered an ambush similar to what happened at the Lucky Jack to outnumber the defenses of this small hideout - casualties were guaranteed, but he might've been able to break through much easier. However, he severely lacked the manpower for what might've been a slightly easier job to pull off rather than try to fight a lion. His regrets for his actions finally kicked in, realizing this could've been a cakewalk in comparison, but considering what else he'd managed to steal from the bomb squad's inventory, he had one last brutal plan up his sleeve...

...And by brutal, he was crossing new boundaries that would make even the late Ra's roll in his grave. In the van before him was the young Angie suited up with an oversized vest with eight blocks of remote-detonating explosives int he front, and eight more in the back. She had a solid black rag over her face to prevent her from seeing what's in front of her, even though there was no windows in the back of the van. It was more of a show of mercy from the ex-sergeant so that she wouldn't get too upset over watching a scary-looking technician fit an explosive vest on her tiny body. It didn't stop her from crying and whimpering ever so softly, and each time she got even remotely loud, she'd get yelled at to shut up, which she'd do without question, but the whimpers and sobs never really came to a stop. Given that this was an 11-year-old girl, those noises were allowed to slide so long as she wasn't bawling or screaming for help.

The two vans were stopped about two miles away from the Jackal's compound, out of sight in the mix of the forest before them, and safe to plan their advance. Since outnumbering them wasn't going to happen, they had to play dirty and use a little girl to leverage the crew. By now, Damien's usefulness was just about depleted now that the location was pretty much confirmed.

"So..." Reeves sighed as he watched over the crippled man in a stretcher. "All we have to do is walk south of here, maintain our straight trajectory, and the building will appear in a mile or two?"

Damien nodded as best he could, barely able to move the rest of his body that had been patched up from the places where he'd been stabbed. He was in pain after enduring all of his procedures without a proper anesthetic. "Yeah, you can find that Griffin kid there. Now, could you just leave me and my sister alone? Just leave us in a van and we'll be on our way. You got what you want. Now you can do whatever type of terror shit you had in mind. You don't need me anymore."

Those last words were quite a mistake that left the sergeant cackling. "Well, I'm glad you took the words out of my mouth. You're pretty much useless to me now. I'm sure you'd expect your old leader to kill you at this point. What, are you expecting some sort of mercy from me because I worked in laugh enforcement?" He scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. You are going to watch literally everything as it plays out along with me from the safety of our current location."

So... Reeves wasn't going to get close to the compound? "What are you talking about?"

Reeves turned away from the patient and snapped his fingers towards the back door of the van, as if he were asking for it to be opened. With it came the clicking sound of the latch being pulled, then the light from outside seeping in as the doors flung open. The outdoors revealed the demolitions expert from the other van as well as Damien's little sister. She still had the black bag over her head to prevent her from seeing her brother, as well as an overcoat to cover up the explosives strapped to her chest. She didn't have shoes on, and through the middle of the opening of the overcoat, a small camera similar to what was on the brute that invaded her location earlier rested so that Reeves could see everything she was seeing.

Damien, however, seemed to have a mini heart attack upon seeing this, the sight of his little sister dressed up like a hostage in a terrorist scheme, now being used as a sacrificial lamb. "N-no..."

"Now listen, little Ang," Reeves snickered as he crossed his legs in a sort of elegant fashion, ignoring his hostage's response. "You're going to be a good girl and walk in the direction that my little techie friend behind you tells you to go. You do not deviate from that path, or you will explode. You will not cover up the camera with the overcoat, or you will explode. You will find the woman in the picture you'll be shown and give her the note in the overcoat pocket, or you will explode. Try anything I don't like, for instance, screaming or running away, and you will explode. But, if you follow the orders given as they are, you and your brother will live to see another day. Clear?"

The rag-headed girl nodded, then choked on a sob as she asked, "I wanna go home. I don't feel so good."

Now unable to control himself, Damien jolted in his place, only to feel his wrists and ankles were strapped to the stretcher. "Damn it! You can't do this! She's just a little girl! You can't just send her off like a suicide bomber or some shit!"

"Damien?" Angie immediately recognized the voice, trying to walk forward, even though blindfolded, but was quickly jolted away by the man behind her. She squealed in fear, but her mouth was quickly covered over as Reeves snapped his fingers and signaled a waving motion towards him with his hand.

"Close the door. We've seen enough."

"NO!" Damien yelled, no longer fearing for his own livelihood and severely regretting ever calling upon Al-Asheera to get revenge on James. "This isn't what I agreed to! Ra's would never approve of this!"

Reeves shook his head with a maniacal grin on his face. "Ra's is dead. So is Al-Asheera. Now, I just want Thalia Griffin to pay for her mistakes, for destroying something great. So you're going to shut up..." The sergeant extended his right boot forward in a way that landed straight onto Damien's groin, leaving him groaning and squeaking in pain, eventually going quiet. "And you're going to enjoy the show as you watch your sister walk to her death. Sounds fun?"

In the midst of his pain, Damien managed to let a few words loose. "Fuck you. I hope Al-Jameela kills you like she did to Ra's."

Kicking his feet back on the seat he was at in the back, Reeves rested back for a moment, taking the tablet he had before, and resting it in front of him as if he were watching a TV show, except the channel was the live feed from Angie's camera. He could still hear her muffled screams outside as his goon tried to calm her down, all music to his ears. "We'll see about that, traitor. We'll see."

--

The Blockaded Intersection, Shortly After the Suicide...

Like the morally solid cops they were, Richie and Heather called for backup. They couldn't leave it to some other bystander who heard a gunshot to come over and take a look, then land themselves a bad name for it, or worse, end up no better than Tony and Frank did over the past week. The scene was clearly not pretty, with a man's brains blown out, a few dead bodies nearby, and words written in blood on the sides of the blocking trucks. Many of the newer cops on scene were sickened by the sight, and the forensics teams had a field day with the unique crime scene they'd get to investigate. Then there were the two detectives who saw the suicide themselves. Richie had seen plenty of sights in his years, and his reactions were more of frustration that a lead literally just offed itself before their eyes. Heather, on the other hand, was new to such gruesome, unnerving sights, so she appeared to be quite disturbed by it all, with nothing but a few blank stares out into what seemed to be the void and not answering to other investigators on-scene. At this point, as witnesses and clearly both damaged by this in their own ways, Bradshaw was going to bench them both.

But even with that, and the pain creeping up on Richie's lower body, he wasn't going to take it. He still remembered the runaway slave's final words before blowing his brains out. About Charlie. About revenge on Thalia and some purification process. About the risk to Angie. About the current state of Al-Asheera, or once was. About his own partner...

It brought him back to what Heather told him about Tony's face having a 'T' in the babysitter's phone. Could T have meant 'traitor'? Was it some connection to Thalia, given the names started with T? And a traitor to who? Tony was already being toted about as a traitor to the LAPD; maybe Al-Asheera was taking note of that? Or was there some form of betrayal he couldn't piece together?

Then there was the other hint: Roland Simmons. He gave it away without ever having to say a word? Very true, Roland mostly communicated through that code on a piece of paper, yet all he'd ever use it for was to pass on the textbook 'fuck yourself' message. It hardly had any meaning beyond that, and Richie almost wanted to throw it away from how useless it was. But now, all he could do was stare at it, looking for some sort of subliminal message. Maybe some word hidden in vertical, or if he read all the messages in a certain way? But they all seemed basic. 'Yes', 'No', 'I don't know', 'Maybe', as well as the insults in the mix. If there was a code, it sure wasn't obvious.

Upon giving up for the moment, he crumbled up the paper and stashed it away in his pocket and stood up from his leaning position against another police officer's vehicle. Heather wasn't far away, seated at the back of a hospital, just thinking about what she'd just seen, thinking about the job she had chosen. She wasn't too out of it and gave the older detective the attention he needed.

"How you holding up?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Was that our last lead? Is the trail on the GPS gone? Are we gonna be too late for Angie?"

Her priorities were clear: that little girl that was going to be strapped with explosives. That bothered her just as much as watching a man's head burst into blood and skull chunks. "The blip is still there. But you know we couldn't go without reporting this..."

"Shut up," she scowled. "I gave that girl my word to protect her, and now, there's no guarantee we'll make it out of here. Now I'm stuck here being policed by the little guys because of all this. We didn't have to call it in."

Richie sighed. "You know as well as I do that we have to call it in. You and I could land ourselves in a lot of trouble if we don't go through due process. Yes, the law can be corrupt, and I trusted Reeves with my life on occasions in the past. That trust is gone, and I want to bring him down just as much as you do. But acting like your sister's fiance and going around every single protocol isn't going to do us any good." He took a breath to calm himself down, then took a seat next to his partner, noticing her distress with his past words. "I just want to know if you're still in on this. You can still back down at any time and I'll take it from here if you're too shaken up."

Heather didn't take a second to think before shaking her head. "Angie needs my help. You can't bench me. You won't bench me. I'm fine."

"You sure? You were pretty shaken, Heather. I wouldn't blame you for a second for stepping down."

"I promised that girl to get her justice. And how can I if she's kidnapped?"

Richie shook his head. As a father, if it were his kids in that situation, he'd probably do the very same thing. He'd do the impossible. "Then what if I tell you that we can't let that blip on the radar get too far? It seems to be slowing down on the radar. Not to mention... I've got a piece of evidence on hold that I can't seem to crack."

"Hm?"

The injured man reached for the wrinkled code page from his pocket. He held it between a few fingers and lowered it down to his partner's lap. "Roland Simmons left me this before he... died. If he had anything to say to me, it's here. Maybe you could give me a hand?"

Heather nodded, taking the page and opening it to see the line of messages and code. "And Bradshaw? Are we still on hold?"

With a gulp, he replied, looking left and right before speaking, "Bradshaw can hold his breath on the heads of an active priority investigation." Boy, were the criminal likes of Karin now rubbing off on him. "Reeves is on the move as we speak, probably looking for a way to escape. We gonna let that happen?"

"I assume you're not," Heather cracked what appeared to be a quick smile and stood up from her place. The two gave each other a rather mutual look that told a simple story: they weren't done yet, and they were about to bolt out of the investigation and not answer anyone's questions why.

--

Deadlock, a familiar term Thalia remembered hearing from an old friend. Basically, she knew it as hacker-speak for being stuck with no solution. James painted a grim picture of himself now that most of his assets were either ceased or moved for safety. How safe were they, really, if the man keeping them afloat was basically powerless on his own, only backed up by some unfriendly acquaintance who probably wanted her dead? So, how badly was this 'deadlock'?

James wasn't without his usual ideas: setting traps. Preparing for an attack from a less-powerful enemy to scare them off and cause more of their flocks to run for the hills, all while keeping Charlie safe from the danger. He probably wouldn't end up seeing any of the action at this rate. Perfect. Thing was, when would Reeves come for them? When would he find them? Or would he go under and wait for the Griffin name to appear somewhere again, then make his move? Was this some sort of setup? Would Reeves even find them at this point? Was there a chance he'd guess right upon the first attempt?

Then came a few more... forceful words that Thalia didn't take lightly, rolling her knuckles and planting her nails into the knees of her pants to prevent acting out of rage. Not this again, you...

But... then an apology. A few words to not take ti personally and to show he cared about the innocents here. Her fingers relaxed, and so did her facial expressions as she rested her head back on the wall. After seeing Charlie cry his eyes out in front of her, call her a liar, and realize she couldn't help him, not to mention the other damages left behind... she wanted to do some good, even if it was to fulfill her brother's simple request to stop moving around anymore. Would it be necessary at this point? With how few people remain in the gang?

Then came the best part: Bradan Cabhan again, the man who paid her a visit in the hospital. Turn the truce into an alliance. Thalia's head raised slightly at the idea... and it wasn't one that would be too awful. If anything, maybe only Frank would mind, for young Jordan's sake.

"The enemy of the enemy is my friend, huh?" she quote the all-too-famous phrase. "We can sit back in peace and let someone with more resources and doesn't hate my guts in charge of stomping on this bug. I could get behind this..." She nodded and grinned, followed by a sigh. "You have connections to the Clover Boys or something? Some way to contact him? Sadly, even though he made the deal with me, he left me no way to find him or any word of meeting again. He found me to begin with, after all, just to get info about Al-Asheera out of me for a deal to go down between the two of them, that is, until Reeves butchered a broadcast studio and defiled a pastor's body on live television. I assume that'd be enough to piss off a few Irish gangsters, huh? But what's your plan to establish contact? Because I don't know if you trust me that much, but he made the deal with me. And I think I should be there to follow up on it."

Sure, Thalia did plenty of horrible things before... but negotiations? She never really went wrong with those.

 

[DrTrollinski]

"Oh, Thalia... You took the words right out of my mouth." He smiled, "I can get in contact with them easily enough. Getting information on someone is child's play." He said, "I have no accountability with him, but you? You do. And we can use that to our advantage." He said. "I know it sounds like a longshot, but, it's simple enough. Here, we position guards to cover all angles, we set certain traps in certain rooms. We position guards anywhere and everywhere." He said, "Getting a perimeter set up would be the best thing, I feel. It'll take time, but, if we hurry we can do it and get one step ahead of the game." He said, "Bradan is going to want to agree on a middle point that we can meet at, and he's likely going to be the one to suggest it." He nodded.

"If he suggests it, that means we're going to have at least 50 different crosshairs painted on our chests. Meaning no shit-talking or funny business, because at the click of a finger he could light us all up like Roman candles, which obviously won't do anyone any favors."

He leaned back and scratched his chin, smiling.

"This could work really well, actually." He said, "So, here at the home base, if you will... We have a secure setup. Traps." He said, "So if we do go and meet with Bradan, the house is at least safe." He nodded, "Then we go and meet Bradan, get him on board, and from there we go and shoot all the motherfuckers between us and the freedom we so desire." He nodded. "I think it's a good plan. Bradan's a thirsty bitch for LA. On the west coast, it's what makes him the most money. Start losing that... Shit goes bad. You don't have enough money to cover expenses." He said, "You've got the college kids who want poorly-cut coke, and the junkies who want their next fix. You've got the high-rollers who want the best meth and cocaine, and... Yeah, that's pretty much it." He said, "He won't give up the chance to get his territory back."

"Now, all we need to do is put this plan in motion." He said.

--

Meanwhile for Jon and Charlie...

It was probably a good thing that Jon got Charlie out of there, given what was happening. They didn't know that was going to be the case... But they left right on time, and so far Jon had been vague about where they were going and what they were going to be doing. Anxiety-driving, maybe, but Charlie knew that Jon would never take him anywhere that he could get hurt. It didn't take long to get to where Jon wanted to be, either. It was probably 10 or so miles from the house, so, a nice distance.

It was just a standard woodland place. Nothing special. No buildings in sight for miles.

He got out of the car, leaving Charlie sat there for just a little while, all while he set up some empty cans and bottles on branches, rocks, all sorts.

He got back in the car and reached into the back, pulling around a large cloth that something was clearly bundled up in.

He looked at Charlie, all while setting the cloth down on his own lap. "You trust me, don't you, Charlie?" He asked. "Now, this is going to be a little scary for you. I expect that. But I want you to take a deep breath and trust me. We're going to do this together, no one else. Just me and you." He nodded, "And that way I can keep everything in control, no questions asked." He smiled. "So, what I'm going to do..." He unfolded the cloth.

Inside it were various metal parts. But it... Well, it was all the parts to a gun. But it was literally ripped to pieces and didn't resemble a gun anymore, so, it was really hard to tell what it was at all. No bullets, no gun shape, no magazines, nothing - it was all ripped apart as much as it could be.

"So, do you know what this is?" He asked. "You've got a few guesses." He smiled, "Either way, we're going to build this together, alright?"

 

[KasperXIII]

For once, the two were on the same page about how to proceed. All it took was contact with some guy on the inside, or whatever James had in mind, and they were in business. Though she knew very little about what sort of 'traps' he had in mind - all things considered, the only thing Al-Asheera ever had was strength in numbers - she'd go along with whatever he was thinking of in case of an ambush, which she saw as the most predictable next move from Reeves, who's shown all he was capable of doing was causing chaos and going in with brute force. At this point, an ambush would be on a much smaller scale, probably a very small fraction of what the one on the Lucky Jack was. With whatever security seized her plus more... how likely would Reeves get in here? That still left the question.... How long would it take him to find them before he screws up along the way and ends things himself?

"I'm game," Thalia answered, allowing her arms to loosely fall to her sides. "No funny business at the deal, gotcha. He shouldn't freak out too badly if I'm there. From the time he found me at the hospital, it seems like he knows that he doesn't have to be aggressive around me. It's as if he knew I didn't care about Al-Asheera anymore. How, though? Beats me. But I guess he'll listen..."

But when it came to meets, there were always deals involved. "But if there has to be some exchange of favors, I'm not sucking him off," she smirked. "If you need me to be flirtsy, whatever, you know I can pull that off, but keep whatever you have to give him not involving me on my knees giving him the time of his life. But I'd assume he cares more for money than a hard-on. More about getting his keep back. Shouldn't be hard if Reeves lost most of his men. I'd assume most of Al-Asheera territory was abandoned at this point. But if he wants it to be more official, so that nobody shits on his doorstep anymore? Then, what are we waiting for? I'm ready when you are."

--

Shortly after his hyper dash off to tell his friends the good news, Charlie was off on another trip with Jon, but unsure about the details of the trip. He had no idea where their destination was or what exactly they'd be up to, but he did recall Jon mentioning before that it would be something to help him face his fears. After the past week, those fears were more than ever, all starting from the death of his father. At least he didn't end up seeing the live broadcast of how things got even worse for his old man.

The place they arrived at... was yet another deserted one, no people, not much in sight to begin with. Somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted. Clearly, this activity would come before food, and Charlie had no issues with this. He remained in the car while Jon got out and seemed to set up random debris and objects in the area for what was to come. Now a bit nervous, he tried to slide back into his seat and not pay too much attention to an area clearly far away from the city all alone. Places like this sometimes appeared in his nightmares, and what was worse was that there would be no escape in sight. He tried not to freak out or pant excessively as he waited for his guardian to return.

And that he did, bringing in a cloth, and unveiling a set of indiscernible metal parts. It looked like a model 3D puzzle of sorts, but of what? What was the reference? Charlie listened in on what Jon had to say... more about him possibly being scared, which he still was as he sunk into his seat further. He wanted to assemble this model together with the boy... but the issue was, the 8 year old didn't even know where to start. A guessing game first, though...

"Um..." he uttered, keeping his hands to himself as he looked at the pieces, unsure of what it could be. It sure didn't look like a gun, though, so that was less reason to worry. He flickered back and forth between Jon and the scrap parts, thinking about the possibilities...

"Is it... a car? No, there's no tires. Maybe a plane or something? It's hard to tell because it's in a lot of pieces, and it doesn't even look like anything. Who broke it to begin with anyway?" Indeed, Charlie was at a loss for words, his mind actively blocking out the possibility which would become the reality, all in the name of being a defense mechanism.

 

[DrTrollinski]

"All reasons to be careful, I guess." He said, "If he knew then there's a chance that he might have people on the inside of Al-Asheera. That would certainly be something. I think the most likely thing, though, is he had someone on the inside within the LAPD. It makes the most sense. You were swarmed by police officers in that hospital ward, I remember." He said. "So, one of them could have reported you to him. Simple as that." He shrugged, "I think anyone who saw you... It was pretty obvious that you were against Al-Asheera. It was just obvious." He shrugged, "So, they reached out. Now it's our turn. We find a guy that we can contact, one of the guppies that runs a bar for him, and tell him that Thalia Griffin is looking to arrange a meet-up." He explained.

"You know that that is going to catch his ear. Without a doubt." He said, "As soon as he hears your name he's going to be back in contact with us in no time. The message will get to him quickly. We let him pick the meeting place, but, if it's not agreeable then we keep going until he finds something suitable. The trick is, Thalia, to make him want to meet with you, not the other way around. If you can get him to want that, then he'll agree to more or less anything." He said, "And you're a pretty girl. No offense to you. But you've probably got extra brownie points with him just for that alone. Just saying. Gangsters have a one track mind, no matter where in the world they come from." He chuckled.

"No blowjobs, though. That's fair." He nodded. "I wouldn't ask sexual favors of you for this. If he tries to push for that, then we tell him where to shove it. But like you said. He probably cares much more about the money. The world runs on the vile stuff, so... Yeah." He said, "We need not worry. We'll get this arranged, and we'll make things happen." He said.

He sat down and opened his laptop. "Let's make the magic happen, I guess." He said, "In the meantime, though... Get the guards of this house to position elsewhere. I know it's unlikely, but, just tell them that James and Jon are expecting a potential attack on the household so we need them tactically placed. These guys are high-trained. Ex-military with no commitments, either." He smiled. "They've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. They quite literally fight with their lives, and they're on a fatter paycheck than 75% of the country." He said, "They're not going to let The Jackal get hurt here, and that much I can guarantee."

--

"A plane, huh?" He smiled, "Alright, a good enough guess. As for it being broken, well..." He picked up one of the pieces and rotated it. "It's not broken at all." He said. He was actually holding the barrel of the gun in his hand right now. But the barrel was never something you physically saw. It rested within the body of the gun itself, so... It was all just foreign pieces to Charlie right now, most likely. "I actually took it apart so we could do this together." He said, "You can see, though, there's dozens of little pieces... Springs, screws, and other little things that you probably can't recognize." He said. "We're going to build this today, okay? It'll only take us ten minutes, because I'll help." He smiled.

"So, first, we'll do this..." He said, and he pulled what would eventually make the frame of the gun. "We're going to push this metal piece in through the front, you see, just like this," He guided Charlie's hand so he could do it. "And then a spring goes just over the top of that, so, slot this one in." He handed him the biggest spring there.

The receiver and the recoil spring, done.

"Now, we're going to slip this piece in through the back, just there." He pointed to the back of the frame.

When Charlie slid this into place... Well, that was the trigger all set in its appropriate position.

"Now this part, right through the top of the handle, all the way to the bottom."

In went the mainspring housing.

Now... It was starting to resemble a gun, an M1911, just that little bit more.

".. Do you know what it is yet, buddy?" He asked, a hand on his back.

Nice and calm. No seriousness. Just stay laid back. That was how he was approaching this.

 

[KasperXIII]

Thalia stood up from her place, though slowly given her injuries, looking back and forth to ensure this wasn't some sort of trap or if one of the Jackal's men were waiting to end her for trespassing when she least expected it. Oh, who are you kidding? Shooting you here would be pretty unwise of him. Unless James is literally up his ass about everything and I'm being tricked... The way James spoke in details about the men here didn't quite help her doubts. Why would any of the guards listen to her, after all? She held one by the throat and threatened to end him if his buddies got close - not the best tea party out there. She was still paranoid about each of them all crawling about. However, she wasn't ready to fight again about safety. She had the option to take her family and walk away, and she didn't take it, all to see this through. Though part of her wished she did, just to rid herself of everything being associated to James had to offer, and give her time to get over it all.

No sexual favors, though. Good; she'd had enough of that in Al-Asheera. Now, all they needed to do was draw Bradan out with her name. Not like she ever imagined herself as some sort of leader, let alone an underground gang dealer... but she sure could talk and threaten well. Threats may not be needed with Bradan if she addresses this as a common enemy.

"Got it... Not like his men will listen to me," she shrugged. "Not like I care for your Jackal friend, either. Like any of these people will care for me, the intruder. I'm only here because I can't really go anywhere else without someone calling the cops."

She turned away from James, now with her instructions to try and get the guards to listen to what she says. It would probably go poorly, but it wasn't that encounter that she was excited for... but rather the talks between the Al-Asheera's most dangerous rival, and their most dangerous defector.

--

Charlie nodded, still nervous about what this object was that they'd be assembling. Without a clue what to expect or any idea of where to start, Jon's guidance would speed things up ten-fold. Charlie didn't even lift a finger, nor needed to. He just watched the stray parts as they sort of came together, as if Jon knew what he was doing. Sure, if he were the one who took this model apart, he'd know how to put it back together with ease, so he didn't think much of it.

The first few parts of the instructions? Perfectly fine. Charlie just followed Jon's hand movements to piece it together, but nothing he could recognize just yet. His mind was actively blocking out the idea that this could be a gun, which was for the better. He nodded a bit as he was told what was going on.

More parts came together... then those suppressed thoughts in Charlie's mind began to surface as he tensed up in the car seat, sinking back further. The shape began to resemble a pistol, though not one in particular that he could remember... but still scary. His eyes bugged out and just stared at the device, trying to tell himself it wasn't a gun. But his mind fought back, reminding him of what Jon had done a few days ago to protect him and his mother... and the obvious signs the man who'd held his mom hostage didn't survive the encounter.

Slowly but surely, the gun-like features showed, though incomplete. It was still enough to get Charlie panting, breathing more heavily. He stared longer at it, now unable to as his thoughts took control. "I-Is that....?" He started, but didn't need to finish. A bit of a longer look confirmed what he was looking at: the outline of a gun.

And to respond, he shrieked - loudly, too. He threw himself in the opposite direction, trying his best to thrust himself as far away from the weapon as possible, still screaming and begging out loud, "IT'S THE GUN THAT KILLED MY DADDY!"

Though unaware that his father was shot by heavier, bigger weapons than an M1911, it's all his young mind could comprehend as he cringed in the car into a fetal position, whimpering and wheezing in place. "Get rid of it, please! It's gonna hurt me, too!" he begged. It was a step up that he was able to speak through the panic attack, but the fear remained.

 

[DrTrollinski]

"Well, and because your best friend helped you get here, of course."

Hey, James was bound to defend Karin in one way or another. Best friend was a funny term for her right now, though, given that she'd just tried to murder (or at least planned to kill) her boyfriend, and the father of her child. That's the sort of thing that really tests friendships - everything seemed to be okay, though, didn't it? Sure. That was the best way to think of it. Everything was okay. There was nothing to worry about. They just had to get things in order.

Thalia would find that the guards of this house didn't joke when it came to potential threats. They'd only have to hear the words and, begrudgingly, they'd be forced to listen. They were on six figures for a reason - if there was even a whisper of a potential threat, they had to act on it. It's not as if they wanted to take chances on the back of a grudge. This was their boss's life at stake (it should be noted that the boss's friends were second, potentially third priority, but oh well), so the plans would start rolling out rather easily, much to everyone's surprise.

Meanwhile, James did his job: Finding someone that he could reach Bradan through. Maybe a stock manager for their drugs, or a warehouse operator that was directly tied to the smuggling. UPS and FedEx were probably clueless to the guy letting it all go through. He was the best person to reach. It would take time, but, if he could track a parcel that was delivered straight to one of Bradan's businesses, find out the weight of it, the size... Evidence of delivery, too, he would maybe be able to find his lead.

It would just take a while - time was of the essence.

--

Jon saw the panic flood Charlie's face, and don't worry, he was expecting this. He moved the gun away and set it down on the dashboard. He reached out and took Charlie's hand. "No, Charlie. Charlie, listen." He said. "Breathe. You need to take a deep breath. You remember what I said about trust, buddy?" He asked, "You trust me, right? This gun can't hurt you." He said, "Let me show you, look," He picked up the magazine. "This is what holds the bullets, but look inside." He tilted it so he could see. Empty, for now. "Nothing in it." He said, "The gun itself isn't dangerous. The only thing that's dangerous about a gun is the person standing behind it. They make the choice to pull the trigger, not the gun itself." He said, "This gun here, though... For one, it can't shoot." He picked up the frame again. "We haven't even finished building it yet. It won't fire, and, well." He pointed it away and pulled the trigger a few times. There wasn't even a clicking at this point. It may as well have been a toy gun, in all honesty.

"See?" He asked.

"Deep breaths." He put his hand on Charlie's knee. "This gun did not hurt your dad." He said, "This is my gun. This is what I carry to protect myself and the people I love - including you." He said, "I don't use this anywhere else and I don't use it to hurt anyone unnecessarily. I've made that choice. I've made the choice to carry a gun and not use it when I don't need to." He said, "The only time I'd ever use it is if you or mom or Thalia were in serious danger. Like at the airport, remember?" He said, and his hand went to his head and gently ran over the top. "And today, I want you to see that as long as you've got control of this, it can't hurt anyone." He said. "It can't hurt you, it can't hurt me, it can't hurt your family - as long as you have control and you use it wisely. Because some people treat these things like toys, or... They use them as a way to strike fear into people. Some people use it when they don't need to because they're... Cowardly, selfish. But that's not me. Not us. Right?" He said.

"I want you to keep building this with me." He said. "But first, I want you to hold it just as it is. It doesn't work, it's not complete... I just want you to hold it." He said, and with that he spun the gun around and held the... frame of the stock out to him. "And I want you to look at it and tell yourself something - 'this can't hurt anyone unless I want it to'." He said, "You understand?"

He was determined. He would get Charlie past this fear, gradually. It didn't matter how much hand-holding he had to do. He could battle this with Charlie. He could use his trust to work with this, and eventually he'd show him that there was nothing to be afraid of.

It might be a long process, but... He would do it.

 

[KasperXIII]

With word of a threat spreading around the complex, changes in security maneuvers and positions were made quickly. What were the odds that Reeves knew exactly where to look? Well, only good if there was a leak, because otherwise, a handful of men with the duty of scouring the entire SoCal region? That'd take a fair amount of time, long enough for plans for retaliation to begin. But one couldn't be too careful in case he got lucky and found them after a relatively few amount of tries. Or, of course, if James' suspicions of Damien were true. An ambush of hundreds of men was now next to impossible. If anything, Reeves was on a suicide mission now, and it wouldn't surprise anyone if he showed up with a bomb strapped to his chest just to get close and explode. That guess would only be half-right. Bombs were still in the mix, but not attached to the insane lone wolf.

While security was tightened at the homebase, a new 'threat' was on its way to their front door, moving in careful strides, shaking limbs, and tears. For an 11 year old, the walk from Reeves' van to the Jackal's hideaway was not a short distance, and stepping in dirt and debris with no shoes, all while fearing for her life with a heavy bomb and a hot overcoat over her body, none of which she could touch without the fear of going up in smoke. Even something as small as the wind blowing a few branches made her whimpers get just a bit louder. Fortunately, a merciless Reeves didn't set off the explosives because she got scared. Besides, she'd make it eventually. And if she's found by some lone guard checking a bit deeper in the forest? Well, would he dare get next to an armed bomb with a camera mounted on it, along with the simple instructions: get close and go up in smoke?

"Good work, kid," Reeves' cocky voice sounded from a small speaker in the webcam in the center of the explosive vest. It startled Angie at first, which he noticed with the jolting camera. "Hey, don't get all scared and quit on me. I can hear and see everything, and I can talk to you like this whenever I feel like it. I'd just prefer not to so that they can hear your pathetic whimpers first. Keep walking. According to my calculations, you're almost there. You remember what the man told you before removing the bag on your head?"

Weak words emerged from Angie's lips. "G-Get close and he'll blow me up?"

"Atta girl... had there been any future for Al-Asheera, I'd induct you in a heartbeat. You'd be the next Thalia Griffin. Fun, right? ... No? Aw. Keep going. I think you're getting close."

Indeed, Angie was getting very close to the hideout, the front entrance to it as she found her way to a thin road, the very same one Damien was caught on. About 50 meters away around a short turn, she could see a few armed men on lookout. It felt better to walk on an actual road, so her steps became quicker, more confident, and less cautious. Naturally, she'd scream for help, but she'd already been told what that would get her. As she kept walking, she was sure to be spotted by men posted at the front door. Seeing that glint of civilization, she began to walk quicker. She could tell that a few figures in the distance were also getting closer, but in a more aggressive manner, on the offensive. As they got closer, Angie came to a halt as she realized the men were armed to the teeth.

"Hey, this is private property, kid. You lost?" One asked, still unaware of the bomb hidden beneath the overcoat, but proceeding with caution if this kid was just a distraction.

"D-Don't come close!" Angie instinctively screamed, stepping back and holding her hands out to stop them. It only prompted the two men to lift the barrels of their weapons up at her. By lifting her arms, one blinking light from the device strapped to her became visible to the guards. Indeed, the kid was a delivery mechanism.

"Hands where we can see 'em, kid!" the first one yelled, then directing his words to the guard next to him. "Call this in, we've got a kid bomber trying to get close!"

"Don't shoot!" Angie wept, throwing her hands in the air in fear, her legs weak and about to collapse. "A cruel black man told me to do it! He kidnapped me and forced me to wear it! I don't want to hurt you!"

It didn't stop the second guard from informing his associates via radio. "We've got a code red, an attempted infiltrator with explosives. Repeat, we have what appears to be a suicide bomber trying to approach the premises. Emergency maneuvers!"

Given that Angie didn't seem capable of negotiating, Reeves had to, rather quickly, butt in. "Do that, and she explodes. Get anywhere near this girl or try to disarm the bomb, and have fun with it blowing up in your faces," he cackled.

The first guard stepped closer, causing Angie to wince as the barrel of the gun got closer to her face. "Who the hell is that, kid?"

"This is the leader of Al-Asheera coming for what is rightfully mine. Deliver me Charlie Griffin, and I will allow you to defuse the bomb attached to this poor girl. But if you dare try to run interference or get it off of her, or do anything I don't like, she explodes. How about you call that in, huh? How about you bring this poor little girl inside and get her a glass of water. She seems... rather shaken up. Maybe me and the leader of your little coup can have a chat about how we can forever leave each other alone simply by handing over the boy."

The guards looked back and forth, then back at the pawn of a girl being used for some wicked end. She was clearly the victim, but the deal was far too risky to go through. Let her and the bomb in the secure complex, or have her blow up right outside of it? And allow an 11 year old girl to die like that?

"P-Please help me," Angie whimpered again. "Just do what he says..."

Reeves quickly cut her off. "You can help her by bringing her inside. Tick tock. Test my patience, and I'll send her to kingdom come."

There was only one way to know what to do next, and it wasn't their decision. "I'll get in contact with the boss and see what he says about your arrangements. But you stay put and don't go blowing up anything until we get back to you," the leading guard ordered as he stepped away to establish more private communication with the Jackal, just to know how to proceed without Reeves hearing everything and possibly blowing up... literally.

--

The loud shrieking dialed down as Jon spoke, but the wheezing and shivering didn't at first. His head rotated away from the gun with a hand in front of whatever view he might have just so he didn't have to see it. Avoidance at its finest; at least he didn't try to run like he did in the federal agent's home. He moved his hand from his face and peeked when Jon placed the gun aside and held out the magazine, to show it was empty. His breathing slowed down in his attempt to relax, trying to absorb the words of a wiser man: guns don't hurt people alone, but rather the person behind it. Then, why does it seem like anyone who held a gun was killing someone? Or that it ended up hurting people? He thought to himself. Once the frame came back into picture, he flinched again and tried his best to not look at the gun, but his curiosity couldn't help but slightly take a crack of a look. It couldn't shoot? Charlie watched as Jon loaded it with the empty magazine, then demonstrate...

The trigger was pulled. Charlie immediately cringed, hiding his face in his hands... but his scream made more noise than the gun itself not firing.

A few more trigger pulls passed, and still nothing. Charlie got a quick look through an opening between his fingers and saw that Jon was pulling the trigger and nothing was happening. No one was getting shot, no loud noise from the gun firing like he'd heard before... nothing. Not what he expected... at all.

Jon went on about how he was using that very gun to protect him and his family, including during the incident at the airport. He showed the difference in intentions between himself and others, how some use weapons like this to bring out fear, to do harm, or just for no reason because they didn't know better. Charlie listened in with one cautious eye through his hands, still worried something was gong to go horribly wrong, that the gun would malfunction, or that whenever they load the gun, it would do something he wouldn't like, even if it wasn't intended.

Charlie was still frightened out of his pants, but he could tolerate the speech from that comfortable distance away from the almost-gun. But when Jon offered him to hold it himself, that tolerance fell apart and he retreated, looking away once Jon held the frame in his direction. "No," he sniffled with a quick reaction for an answer. It almost didn't seem like it was his free will, but rather that avoidance mechanism trying to shelter him. He cringed into a ball in his seat, only barely looking at the weapon. "We don't have to do this. I don't want to."

The words that followed, that the gun couldn't hurt him or anyone unless he wants it to... Charlie heard them, and might've slightly believed it, but he was still thinking about the nightmares of his father's death and the man who put a gun to his mom's head. "But there's still a lot of people who want to use for bad things. Like the guy at the airport."

The goon that killed Charlie's father and almost his mother might be dead, but the impact of his actions lived on to traumatize the son forever. He and Ra's would be snickering in joy if they were still alive.

Charlie just kept an eye on the gun, still refusing to get close. But watching from what he considered a safe distance is where he was comfortable starting.

 

[DrTrollinski]

Chaos was unfolding, it seemed. It didn't take long for James to hear about what was going on. While The Jackal said that he did not want the girl in the house at any costs, James was doing something else. He wasn't going outside, but rather moving the others to a place where they'd be safe. All except Thalia, of course, because she was the one who could play a key part in all of this, and she was one of the few people that knew how this gang actually functioned, as well as what lengths they'd go to to actually get what they want. Would they go as far as nuking an eleven-year-old, though? James doubted it for some reason. He didn't know what it was about this whole situation, but... He didn't believe for even a second that these guys were about to kill an 11-year-old.

They'd have done it before, surely. They must have done similar in the past. But how could a girl that had not been sworn in as a member even be considered a sacrifice for a cause she didn't even know about?

At the same time, the old values were dead. Reeves was going for one last hail mary, and so far it had people rattled.

"Nicole, Karin," James said, "you both need to stay in the basement with the kids, okay? There's a gun behind the bar. Do not answer the door to anyone except myself or Thalia. That includes not answering it to Jack, okay?" He said.

He opened the door to the basement for them. "Frank, Tony... What are you doing?"

Frank looked down at Jordan.

"There's a kid in danger?"

"Very much so."

Frank nodded a few times. "I'll help," He said, crouching down and hugging Jordan tight, "you be good for Karin and Nicole. I'm going to come back as soon as I can, alright?" He smiled. "Remember, don't come out until one of us gets back."

"Okay, Frank." Jordan squeezed him before releasing him again.

On that note, they were left to go into the basement. James lead them to the front door. He peered through the glass only to see the young girl in the jacket - two things would kill her here. The summer heat of California, or the bomb. At the moment, it was going to be the heat that got her, in a heavy jacket like that. He knew who the girl was, but, hell... That meant Damien was nearby somewhere. Like shit did she deserve someone like Damien looking after her - James felt angry. Angry that her older brother would be irresponsible enough to get her involved in this.

Fucking traitor.

Anyway.

"You let me talk about this." He said, "Tony, Frank, either of you are free to help negotiate." He said.

James stepped out into the front yard, his gun drawn. Angie was going to recognize him straight away as the mailman who killed his babysitter. But hopefully now she was beginning to figure out that that babysitter may not have been the most trustworthy person, considering how many cops had talked to her since, and the situation she was put in now.

"What's going on here, Reeves?" James asked. He did have his sunglasses on, so, his identity was more or less protected. It's surprising how hard it is to recognize someone when you can't see their eyes. "This is low, even for you." He said.

He looked down at Angie.

"I've been told you want us to bring out Charlie Griffin."

Now, he could either tell him a couple of things: He wasn't here, or no can do. If he told them he wasn't here... They'd scan everywhere nearby that they could stretch out to, which did put Charlie at risk. He couldn't allow that to happen.

"I'm sure you already know that that's not going to happen." He said.

--

"Charlie..." His protest wasn't going to go unaddressed. "Look, I know you don't want to do this - but you need to." He said, "Because once you do this, it's going to help you not be scared anymore. With fears like this, it's important we address them while we have the chance. One day, you might have to protect your own family - this could be anything, though, not necessarily a person. It could be a wild animal on a camping trip, for example." He said. "And that's not going to be easy to do if you can't get over this fear, right? Just an example." He said. "It's going to be just like the lazer tag. You realized that it was harmless, and you had fun." He said, "I've got some earplugs here, which help protect your ears and block out the noise, too. We're going to do similar today, and we're going to have fun. I promise." He said.

"Yes, there are a lot of bad people in the world, but there's a lot more good ones." He said, "These people... They're criminals. Criminals who have been operating longer than you've even been alive. That's why you've seen so many bad people with guns - they've been growing and growing for 20 years. Think, James was only a little boy when those guys started doing all of their stuff." He shrugged, "But James? James is fearless. You've seen that. He's not scared of them, because he knows he can protect himself and the people he cares about. I'm not scared of them, either, because I know that behind the guns, they're just cowards. They're not men or women. They're just cowards who rely on scaring people to get what they want." He said.

He gently ran his hand over Charlie's head.

"Okay, so, on that note... I've got a better idea. I'm going to finish building this, as long as you watch. You don't have to touch it yet, if you don't want to." He said. And he slowly put it together, explaining each step as he went along, describing the function of each part. If he could keep Charlie distracted from the fact it was a weapon, and instead make him interested in what each part did, he hoped that would help normalize things a little.

Finally, the gun was complete, in its true form. It was a beautiful weapon, no doubt, well-cleaned and looked after.

It just wasn't loaded. He pointed the gun at the windscreen and pulled the trigger.

"See? Even when it's built, it's still completely safe because it's not loaded, and there's a safety mechanism on the side that'll stop it from firing, even if it is loaded." He smiled. "Guns are very safe. You're more likely to hurt yourself while cutting up fruit in the kitchen, you know." He reached out and gently poked him. "So, gun aside for a moment..." He said, and he reached into his pocket. The jittering of metal pieces was heard. He pulled out a handful of .45 bullets.

"You know what these are?" He asked. "Here," He pinched one in the tips of his fingers and held it out to him. "See? It can't hurt you. It's perfectly safe." He said, "I know you don't want to touch the gun just yet, that's fine, but..." He held the empty magazine out. "Can you help me load this?" He asked. "After all, this is harmless. It's just a... A glorified container, basically." He said, "So it won't hurt you. Can you help me do that?"