ACTION TIME

[aphelionix]

The two days had come and gone since Locke stayed over at Weiler's. He was tipsy when Weiler had called that night and made their two day check-in rule - not that he forgot, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that something was off when he went to bed that night.

On the morning of the third day, he remembered.

The rule was to get out. He tried calling Weiler once, in case he had forgotten his own rule, but Locke was sure by now that it wasn't like him. It was all the sign he needed when the call went straight to voice mail. He headed right out the door of his room, only gathering his pistol and communicator. Through the bustling of the soldiers' morning routines, he managed to keep himself fairly blended in. No one seemed to be looking on him any differently. Locke was on the last stretch of the emergency escape route of Gladsheim's base - for Circle members, that was - when someone called his name.

His real name.

Comments

[aphelionix]

Ah, so this was Boss's estranged son.

Locke reached into his pocket, handing over his ID.

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli ran the card through the scanner. It was green. Vercelli didn't look very pleased with that.

"What's your real name?"

[aphelionix]

"Nicholas Avery. Is that a trick question?"

[pugsmuggler]

"Why don't you follow me, Mr. Avery? We have security protocols we need to clear before we can send you on your way."

[aphelionix]

"It's very easy to fix color blindness these days, you know," he said, pointing at the scanner. "It was green."

[pugsmuggler]

"I saw it, smart ass. Another crack out of you and I'll call it contempt against a superior."

[aphelionix]

Locke smiled. "Lead the way then, Captain."

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli turned on his heel, stepping in the opposite direction Locke had been heading on his way out, but not without spearing the red-head with a glance over the shoulder to assure that he followed.

[aphelionix]

The turn was all the chance Locke needed to pull out his gun. It wasn't much, and Vercelli would surely notice, but being turned around would lessen the time he had to react. He pointed it at him steadily.

"How many others have you arrested, Captain?"

[pugsmuggler]

His glance heavy on Locke, Vercelli froze under the aim of the gun, his fingers curling into his palms. The corner of his mouth quirked.

"That's a very bold move, Avery."

[aphelionix]

"An answer, if you wouldn't mind."

[pugsmuggler]

"That's confidential."

[aphelionix]

"Life-or-death confidential?"

[pugsmuggler]

"This place is under surveillance, you know," Vercelli sneered. "You shoot me and both you and your buddy dies."

[aphelionix]

Locke already knew his time was limited; back-up was bound to rush in soon. There were very few blind spots on base.

"On the ground, Captain," he directed.

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli was slow as he moved to his knees, glance extended straight in front of him. He raised both hands, palms straight and fingers spread, making it clear he wasn't reaching for anything.

[aphelionix]

Locke reached forward, taking the gun from Vercelli's holster and sticking it into his empty one.

"Your access card," he said.

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli rolled his eyes. "Front pocket."

lol my phone corrects 'vercelli' to 'bedfellows'

[aphelionix]

Pressing the barrel of his pistol into Vercelli's back, Locke kneeled to slip his hand into his front pocket, taking the card. He was on the watch for reinforcements as well, and seemed to be running out of time - he could hear the thumps of boots echoing down the hall. Locke was sure Vercelli didn't expect him to actually get away, else he wouldn't have been playing along as calmly as he was.

Looks as though that was his cue. He broke out into a run the opposite way.

omg

[pugsmuggler]

Despite being disarmed, Verelli was the first to take off after Locke. Unclipping a handheld taser from his boot, Vercelli followed Locke's heels like a hungry wild cat, with the speed of one to boot. The two of them were booking it down the hallway like their life depended on it. Vercelli was much less intimidated by guns when they weren't trained on him at point blank range, but he was wary to watch Locke as he sped after the man. With Locke on the move, he'd be too unsteady to throw a clear shot back.

Eventually the alarm system went off, red lights flooding the hallways and a buzzer reaching out over the speakers while Vercelli shouted obscenities like: "Yeah, you better run, you bastard!" and "You are so fucking dead."

[aphelionix]

Locke's training in the military all these years paid off. He managed a good lead on Vercelli, but he was running dry on luck with the alarms. The shots Locke fired back were indeed unsteady, shot blindly, only meant to discourage him off his trail.

Improvising your route was hard when you were on the run, too. There were several that the Circle had prepared, plotted out by the double agents to make escape easy. In such an emergency, there was always someone ready to help you through. (Assuming they, too, weren't caught.)

Only one passed by the holding cells. Locke chose that route.

He veered a sharp left, running toward a closed off hallway with large, double doors sealed off at the end with a panel. It was a good thing he'd lifted Vercelli's access card, because Locke's surely wouldn't work now.

[pugsmuggler]

"I got you, fucker," Vercelli grinded out, trapping Locke under his arm before the door could open and digging his taser into his neck. The device undulated against the flesh of his neck, spitting out a strong current of electricity.

[aphelionix]

Locke had raised his gun too late to prevent it, the weapon falling onto the floor as he collapsed to his knees. His body locked up, his teeth gritting with a forced out groan. Within a few seconds, he was on the ground.

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli swallowed heavy breathes, the air taking awhile to catch up to him after his sprint. He withdrew the taser once Locke hit the ground, taking a few second to recuperate before turning Locke over by the shoulder.

[aphelionix]

He wasn't quite down for the count yet. Locke jerked out of his grasp, also out of breath, his fist flying out at Vercelli.