Missy glowered at Dave. He didn't have a rifle - only his revolver and that probably wouldn't be sufficient to hit the retreating soldier. However, Spades' shot managed to hit the soldier in the ankle, causing him to trip and fall face first in some mud. He was down for not but it looked as though he was trying to get up .
James finished checking on Nico and proceeded to prop him into a sitting position against the kitchen wall. That would be at least marginally more comfortable than waking sprawled on the floor. James turned his attention to the blackshirt lying at the entrance to the bathroom. At quick glance it looked like he was still alive. James knew you did not recover quickly from getting hit in the head with a wrench, but he was still worried the man could wake up and mount a surprise attack.
James was about to start looking for a rope, when he hear the loud report of a rifle. Quickly heading to the doorway of the kitchen, James was relieved to see that it had just been "Spades", apparently firing at the final blackshirt lurking somewhere in the darkness. The others were in varying states of readiness, although Brown seemed to look pissed more than anything. James found this to be bit odd, since to his understanding a rifle round to the chest was not something you just walked off. He spoke up "Okay, I checked on Nico and I think he´s okay, just unconscious at the moment. I´m going to go look for rope or something to truss up the sleeping beauty in the bathroom." Without waiting for answer James returned to his search.
Dave grudgingly accepted that yes, Spades had hit the bastard, and perhaps he might've actually nailed him dead centre if he'd taken the shot earlier instead of looting the dead bodies which weren't going anywhere, and would he be so kind as to not leave things to the last minute next time, if it pleased his lordship.
"...Still, good shot, Spades. Come on, Hans, lad. Let's go pick our runner up." He stepped out of the farmhouse and headed down the road with weapon drawn, ready to apprehend the man. "And don't give me that sour look, Missy. It's only a flesh wound."
Dave had been many things in his life, but a field medic was not one of them.
edited 1st Feb '15 7:04:31 AM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.In James' search for rope, if he went outside, he would find some looped around a fencepost outside near the pigpen. Also outside was Dave and the Blackshirt. The Italian soldier saw the man running at him and put his gun to his head. His intention was clear.
Inside the house, Mississippi took a step forward and suddenly collapsed on the floor. Nico began to stir on the ground and saw his friend fall when he did so.
"There's a hospital South of here. The Blackshirts...their truck..." Nico tried to string words together to those who remained inside.
edited 3rd Feb '15 7:07:37 PM by FantasyLiver
"Great! So we steal the truck, drive to the hospital, steal medical supplies, kidnap a surgeon, and force him to preform some trauma surgery on Brown while we are hiding inside the truck. What do you guys think we should do about the blackshirt? We could take him prisoner, but he would be a burden and we have enough problems as it is. On the other hand, he may make a good bargaining chip."
Hans walked after Dave. "Let's just ask him a few questions and shoot him in the face." He suggested. "He's going to tell his buddies and I'd like it to take a while for them to find out. Deal?" He was constantly looking around, in case said 'buddies' showed up. And then the black shirt put a gun to his head. Hans shrugged, "If he wants to blow his own brains out..." He replied. "A hostage could be disruptive, and the only thing we could get out of him is questions, I'm sure there's always someone else." He started to walk forward, gun trained at the Blackshirt.
edited 2nd Feb '15 10:32:30 PM by TroyandHawk
Good to be back"We still have the other fellow from the bathroom," said Dave, "but another bargaining chip never hurt anyone, and I don't like the idea of shooting a man in cold blood - even if he did shoot up our plane. Speaking of which, I hope our pilot's still alive. Why don't you check on him? I'll have a chat with our friend here."
He advanced, calling just loudly enough for the man to hear. "There's no need to do that, old chap. Why don't we discuss this like civilised folk?"
And at the back of his mind, he wondered if Brown could've really shaken off a bullet to the chest. I have a bad feeling about this.
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.James had not noticed any rope inside and was considering if he could risk searching for it outside, when he heard a dreadful falling noise. Rushing to investigate, James discovered Brown collapsed on the floor. Nico had awoken as well and was trying to speak. James crouched near Nico in order to speak to him easier. "Nico, how are you feeling? What was that about a hospital? How far away is it?"
James glanced in the direction of Brown. Apparently he had undersold the seriousness of his wound significantly. James worried that had only worked to worsen the situation. Turning back to Nico, James resumed his questioning. "Are there any medical supplies in the house? I´m worried Brown won´t make it to the hospital without treatment."
Nico shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was beginning to regain full consciousness but he still spoke rather slowly - although, admittedly, that could be because English was not his first language.
"The Blackshirts. Their truck is in my garage. And why must you commit all of these crimes? Why not just take Mister Brown to the hospital? It's a small hospital and, if he pays his bills, they won't ask too many questions. One of the doctors is a friend of mine." Nico told all who were listening. While he was speaking, he narrowed his eyes at Pierre - whose search for wine would inevitably lead him to Nico's rather impressive wine cellar.
The cellar had an enormous amount of wine from a variety of countries (mainly Italy and France) and there were plenty of corkscrews lying around to open it. It seemed that the Blackshirts had the same idea as Pierre for many of the bottles were open, empty, and thrown across the cellar sloppily. In one of the chairs near the shelves, there was an envelope that, if Pierre read it, would appear to be addressed to one of the Italian soldiers and it had an official looking governmental seal.
In response to the question about medical supplies, Nico just pointed in the direction of the wine cellar. Alcohol was about the best he could offer in terms of medicinal properties.
Meanwhile, outside, Spades would enter the plane and find a bloody mess. The cockpit windows were shattered and it appeared that some of the bullets had ricocheted and hit the controls. Even worse however was Mr. Lucas - who lay dead on the floor with a handful of bulletwounds. The only thing in the cockpit that looked intact were Mr. Lucas' flight helmet, the radio, and a small grey box below the seat.
Dave's attempt to stop the Blackshirt from committing hara-kiri failed as the Italian soldier pulled the trigger and...nothing happened. It seemed he was out of bullets from his assault on the cockpit and from shooting at Spades. He looked at Dave glumly and held his hands up in surrender.
"Mon Dieu," Pierre said, looking at all of the broken bottles. "Ze bastards!"
Opening the most expensive bottle of French wine he could find, Pierre took a swig from the bottle and exhaled. He moved over to the letter and picked it up.
Making himself comfortable, he seated himself on the floor with his back to the wall. Taking another swing from the bottle before cradling it in his lap, he opened the letter and started to read it.
"Well, now. Seems as though Lady Luck has other plans for you, eh?" Dave chuckled, gesturing at the forlorn Blackshirt with his gun. "Hands on your head, sir, and if it's not too much trouble, I'd have you lead the way back to the farm. No funny stuff, or you'll wish you'd saved that last bullet."
edited 4th Feb '15 3:42:18 AM by Pyrite
Not a substitute for a formal medical consultation.Damn.
If he could, Spades would be digging a grave for Mr. Lucas, but he had no shovel and couldn't expend the time and energy. He searched Lucas' pockets, but only found a wallet that was soaked in blood and somehow had two bullet holes in it. He saw a small box under the seat, picked it up, and opened it...
It wasn't Mei's day. Although she was eager to help her old acquaintance and role-model, Missisippi Brown, so far there had no been luck. Stuffed in a plane with a maniac pilot, she had tried to look unconspicous during the trip, paying no heed to the mad pilot's rants.
And then, when she was taking care her belongings -and in particular- her medical supplies while the rest of the team went on ahead... hell broke loose. She bit her lip, remembering clearly how the pilot had been shot and died almost instantly, with not even time for her to do anything about it. Having no particular interest in joining a fire fight with only her fists, she did what she used to do in the past to survive: squeeze herself in some corner and wait for the troubles to miss her.
She then saw one of her companions hopping back and checking on the pilot... and without a second word, looting what was left of the manic, yet tragically killed, man. And here she was hoping people would be more... mindful of manners. Not that she was a shining example of them, wearing worn, boyish clothes just like in the times she had been called "Mouse" back in China. Although there was justification for that, because she was fairly certain good ol' Sip wouldn't recognize her should she don one of her usual attires.
Deciding she had seen enough, she coughed slightly, and rose from her hiding.
"Before you proceed on your wantom looting, would you mind telling me what really has happened with all the gunshots?" She questioned, lowering her pitch.
edited 4th Feb '15 11:45:04 AM by AtomicNut
"Blackshirts, gun violence, fight fight fight, we won but Brown is dying. We're gonna steal a truck, go to a hospital, kidnap a surgeon, and force him to save Brown."
"Hi, I'm Spades.", he said with an outstretched, shakeable hand.
edited 4th Feb '15 6:54:54 PM by deadpool616
Mei Kang stared at the guy blankly, before doing a double take.
"What!? You can't be serious." She said, not shaking his hand, choosing to let a dozen of colourfull chinese insults escape from her mouth, her pitch obviously now that of a woman."Your solution to help a guy who's dying is to put more people in danger, kidnap people and thievery?" She added shaking her head."Who came up with that idiotic plan? Nevermind, no time for this."
She cut her rant as she started producing her medic bag."I am right now playing dress up for old times sake and make myself recognizable to good ol' Doc, but being Mouse right now isn't gonna cut it. Name's Mei Kang, alias Mouse, and you won't need to kidnap anyone because I'm a doctor... so forget that plan of yours and lead the way." She urged, a tingue of worry in her voice.
edited 4th Feb '15 3:55:51 PM by AtomicNut
"You waited until now to reveal your medical abilites? Why?", Spades asked as he made his way out of the aircraft and to the group. "I only came up with this plan because it was the only sure fire way to get Brown help without alerting the Italian government of our location and wouldn't if I knew we had a doctor. Don't be mad at me. Also we were going to still the blackshirts' truck, if that makes you fell any better. We probably still will; we need transportation."
edited 4th Feb '15 4:54:54 PM by deadpool616
Pierre would find that the letter was actually quite an impressive find. It was a telegram addressed to the squadra leader of those that were occupying Nico's house. From what Pierre could decipher, it read something like this.
THE AMERICAN KNOWN AS MISSISSIPPI BROWN WILL LIKELY ARRIVE IN ITALY TO FURTHER ROOSEVELT'S GOALS OR FOR HIS OWN GAIN. STAY AT NICO CARBONE'S FARMHOUSE AND AWAIT BROWN'S ARRIVAL. HE WILL LIKELY STOP BY AS CARBONE HAS BEEN KNOWN TO BE FRIENDLY TO BROWN. TROOPS ARE ALREADY STATIONED AT ASSISI IF YOU REQUIRE REINFORCEMENTS. CONTACT HEADQUARTERS IMMEDIATELY IF YOU CAPTURE BROWN. BROWN AND HIS COMPANIONS ARE CONSIDERED EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND HAVE EVADED OUR HANDS BEFORE.
Outside, the Blackshirt reluctantly did as Dave was told and headed towards the farm with his arms behind his head. However, that was somewhat ruined when Hans went over and kicked him - for he was the only one outside near Hans. The Blackshirt reacted somewhat understandably and tackled Hans to the ground. The man was smaller than Hans but he fought with the ferocity of a man who had nothing to lose.
Inside the plane, Spades would find that the box contained a very rudimentary but still serviceable first aid kit. It contained a roll of bandages, a small vial of morphine, a pair of scissors, as well as a book on how to perform first aid for a variety of wounds.
Inside, anyone near Nico would suddenly hear sounds coming from upstairs. While some might worry that more Italians had arrived, the reality was much more pleasant. A pretty but weary-looking fortysomething woman appeared timidly in the kitchen from upstairs clutching an infant in her arms. Around her were a handful of kids.
"Nico, who are these men? Is it safe?" she asked, shielding her children from Brown and his group.
Hans had dropped his revolver. Not good, so he quickly raised his forearms, attempting to block a few shots before hitting him several times in the face with a right hook, the guy who was unconcious was going to keep sleeping for a while hopefully.
edited 4th Feb '15 9:14:20 PM by TroyandHawk
Good to be back"People doesn't play fair and they tend to shoot medics first." Mei shrugged as she got up, grabbing her bag. "And I don't need to explain myself to you." She added while tailing Spades, with the agility and grace of a street cat."The kit you found will be useful, too." She said while grabbing the box Spades had found if he didn't.
"So where was he wounded?" She pointed out, decided to not waste time.
edited 5th Feb '15 12:22:37 AM by AtomicNut
"Pshaw!" Pierre spat out, though since no one else was in the cellar he was talking to himself. "Such brutalization of language. No poetry. No romance." He tucked the letter into his jacket, and headed up the stairs.
"There are none of ze blackshirted bastards in ze cellar," Pierre told the others after opening the cellar door and stepping back into the house proper. "Sadly, ze wine... she has suffered."
At this point he noticed a new person. One of the female persuasion, whom he quickly approached.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle. I am Pierre Depardieu du Despereaux Laplace III, at your service. And what, pray tell, is your name, you lovely creature you...." he said, to the woman with the infant.
edited 5th Feb '15 12:23:44 AM by nman

Spades took a look outside at the blackshirt, took a second to aim his rifle, and fired.