Just because I am a homicidal maniac who kills people at the drop of the hat doesn’t mean I fly off the handle every time someone hits me with my own pineapple. Mostly, that’s because it has only happened once. I snatched my fruit away from Good Doctor, though.
“Fine, no more calling Dick dick. You think it’s worth a trip up the tower? I’m in a nut-crushing mood now.” I turned to him.
“You are so juvenile at times.”
“Your mom’s juvenile.”
Doc sighed and walked over to the broken window, carefully stepping around the bodies and staying well away from the edge. “I believe the odds are worse for us if we try that. We should leave now with him bloodied,” he said, sweeping his hand across the carnage we’d made of the room.
“Heeeeeey there Max, where are you at?”
“I’m set up, but they’re locking down the building,” he said over the earpiece.
“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Doc broke in, hanging out the window somewhat with both hands firmly on the frame, “It looks like we’re high enough up that you can’t meet us with the scaffolding. Gecko, let’s look for the keys.”
The building wasn’t just straight up to the top. As I don’t know architectural terms, the best I can describe it is that it’s like it stops abruptly with a narrower portion extending upward from that point. We needed to get back down. With the building on lockdown, we’d need those nifty keys the security detail brought us up with. I began checking the belts of the guards, not even bothering with Dick.
I hoped they weren’t on the one I threw out the building.
“I’ll see you as high up as I can go then,” said Max, the transmission cutting off as he began to hum a little tune.
“Ah, here they are. Oh, and here he is,” I could practically hear the loathing in Doc’s voice. He was standing up from a soldier and looking off into the distance at a private helicopter flying away. Over the sounds of the city, we hadn’t noticed the big guy fleeing. Sounded a lot closer too, or that was just the city again.
Which is when the Apache dropped down into view and made my day worse. Doc ran for cover with me running so fast behind him I risked tasting his colon if he stopped suddenly. The attack helicopter saved me from that fate, however. He made it out the door in time. I made it through the glass panel next to the door with the help of a Hydra 70 rocket. The Apache continued strafing over us with its 30mm, letting up as it neared the elevator.
The smoke detectors and sprinklers went off right on time, putting a further damper on my mood.
Doc uses knives, garrotes, and scalpels. I use my fists, the occasional explosive throwing knife, and other assorted gadgets like my chicken grenades. I’m out of the knives, but I did have a chicken. I planned to use it to get past whatever guards were going to be waiting for us when we made our way down the elevator. Of course, kinda hard to ride the elevator down when you’re blown up or shredded by a hail of bullets.
It was circling around the building, letting off bursts of 30mm rounds and Hydras where it could get away with it. Doc and I kept our heads down and stayed away from the outer rooms while we came up with something. We didn’t hear the elevator ding, but the opening of its door signaled an end to our planning session as more of the enforcers arrived. Six men, two of them with PKMs. Yep, a 7.62 machine gun. That’s gonna fucking hurt.
“You want to take these guys and slip down before that chopper knows we’re gone?” I asked the Doctor.
“No. It’s a threat to the escape route. It will spot Max before we’re there or before we can get away. We have to take it out. Doctor’s orders.”
“Not even get the warning of a latex glove snapping? We’ll take down these guys but try not to blow any up. I have a plan,” I said, wagging the pineapple in my hand. The Good Doctor probably cursed at that, but either way, this could save my chicken grenade for the right dramatic moment. Don’t judge me. A reputation is a huge deal for a supervillain.
There’s no shame in running at certain points, but do it with a bit of style if you have the chance. You know, a cunning remark, a cutting remark, or even just an “I’ll get you next time!” type of phrase. Maybe fireworks that form a giant middle finger. If you pull it off perfectly, you can become a legend while salvaging the fact that you just ran like a dirty coward.
In order to run away, I charged the enemy. They fired, and I seemingly split into three, all slightly unique. One crawled along the wall, another dashed upside down on the ceiling, and the last ran along the left side of the hall. They split enemy fire before the soldiers concentrated on the more conventionally running one, which I split again. With the hall filling up with Geckos, they fired wildly, ultimately hitting me a few times, but with a lot less consistency than if I wasn’t invisible with several holograms to distract them.
I’ll be honest, it hurt. Luckily, after the fact, I can edit out the exact words I used to describe it. If you’re really interested, just tape yourself yelling “Fuck!” and put it on repeat for the rest of this fight. I mean, I survived. Armor piercing doesn’t fragment or expand like hollow point, so it does less damage inside a person if you get shot in a less vital area. Remember, kids, don’t test that at home while you have this page open. They might stop letting people read it.
When I reappeared, it was too late for the lead PKM enforcer to avoid my knee in his nuts. I grabbed his gun off the desk he set it up on and blinked away. Normally that’s another name for teleportation, but I use it for when I disappear for only as long as a second at the max. I reappeared knocking another enforcer in the neck with the first one’s PKM. I noticed the first soldier go down too, with Doc sneaking around to our fight. He was always better at throwing them than I was.
I blinked again, appeared between two of them, poked the one facing me in the eyes. I disappeared and got out of the way just in time. The guy behind me tried to shoot me in the head. It wasn’t pretty for the first guy, but at least he didn’t have to see it himself. Meanwhile, Doc wrapped his garrote around the throat of the man I’d hit with the machine gun, slicing through easily with a spray of blood. I knocked the gun to the side and pulled off my most painful move yet. I did a split.
Oh, and I punched him as hard as I could in the balls. Then I tore them out. But seriously, at least he didn’t have to do a split. At this point, one of the soldiers bugged out and tried to run for it. He wandered off too far and was mowed down by the Apache still circling the floor. The other one actually had a shot at me, but I distracted him with a pair of balls to the face. It was long enough for Doc to stab him in the face. To death. Good thing too, it took me way too long to walk right after I pulled myself up.
“Thanks Doc,” I told him, while brushing myself off. “Now, gather up the grenades.”
I found the Apache holding position probably trying to contact the mop-up squad. They obviously weren’t trained in anti-pineapple tactics. They began to fire again as it hit the blades and was torn apart, scattering the garrote, grenade pins, and grenades. I hit the ground right there so they wouldn’t bother strafing again. Explosions surrounded it, tearing into the metal like a playboy through hot women and sending it smoking to a nearby rooftop for an improvised landing.
I limped back to the Elevator, holier than I ever should be. Doc looked around at the fires being fought by the sprinklers, “Are we in any danger of collapse, Gecko?”
“Depends how hot it gets, Doc. Steel can lose up to 90% of its strength before it reaches melting point, but I think that takes airplane fuel. No more rockets being launched anyway, so I think we’re fine.”
“Do you require medical attention?”
“Nanites are on the job. I’m really considering killing whoever thought it was a good idea for a health services company to employ mercenaries.”
“I hear the Iraqi Green Zone is nice this time of year.”