Wednesday Morning: NYC
Marty tugged on his shirt slightly as he approached the medical clinic. He had practically had to tie Angela up in the hotel room once she heard what he intended to do, but unfortunately there really wasn't any other way around it.
He took a deep breath and pushed on the door and entered the empty waiting room, which was playing a muzak version of an old James Bund song from the 70's. A mother and a daughter sat in the corner playing together quietly as Marty approached the front desk.
"Can I help you?" asked the receptionist.
"Yeah," Marty said leaning on the counter. "I'm looking for... Dr. Grocer
"Who may I say you are?" the receptionist asked.
"Martin Blank," he replied, "I-"
Some sounds you can't really hide.
Like the sound of a gun cocking.
Not bothering to finish his sentence, Marty dove over the front desk just in time to avoid a hail of bullets being fired by the mother-daughter combo. The "receptionist" wasn't so lucky. Then again judging from the nine millimeter that the receptionist was holding the mother daughter combo were just faster on the draw.
"Maaaaaartin!" came the obnoxious shouting voice. "So glad you could join us."
Of course he still had it. Still had the special ammo for it too. Marty quietly crawled along the floor, listening carefully for movement.
"Sorry for the welcome wagon there, Blank," Grocer's voice said apologetically. "A little misunderstanding from my associates."
There was another long burst of gunfire and what was left of the receptionist's desk exploded into splinters as Marty pushed himself behind a metal filing cabinet.
I told them to kill you and they didn't," Grocer said with a sigh. "Like the mother and daughter thing? The girl is actually a dwarf from the Eastern Europe bloc."
Marty pressed his feet against the wall sliding him out just enough to have a straight shot at the two shooters. Pulling the trigger twice the woman and the dwarf fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
"Nicely done," Grocer's voice rang out. "What kind of gun is that? Custom? See, I knew this whole lovey-dovey thing with a new respect for life was all just crap. C'mon Blank, what are you really thinking you're going to do now? Money isn't going to last forever. Are you going to go to school? Get a degree in accounting? Become a CPA be on the PTA and join the Lion's club?"
Marty pressed himself against the wall, looking for any cameras or weak spots in his position. "Shriners," he called out. "I like the hats."
"Plus you can always drive those little go-karts in the fourth of July parade," Grocer replied right before the wall above Marty's head exploded with bullets.
Marty launched himself down an empty hallway pressing himself against the wall. "Can you see why I don't want to be a part of your little guild?" he called out trying to get a bead on Grocer's location.
"Fuck you, Blank. I hate those hats," came the reply. "C'mon. Can't we just let this go? Have a little one-on-one and talk about the good old days."
"They were good?" Marty said inching down the hallway.
"Hey remember, Burma? You were what, a colonel in that army? You sold me a batch of T-34's with no gas tanks."
"Price of doing business," Marty said ducking down into some sort of lab area.
"And then there was the Paraguay thing. I missed the shot because of that damn waiter and you had to do him with a fork. I mean how cool was that?" Grocer called out, his voice much closer than before. "See, kid, this is what I'm talking about. We could be working together again, for God's sake. You know? Making big money, killing important people!"
Marty kept moving, keeping his distance. "So this union. Who else is involved?"
"Everybody!" Grocer called out. "We got the Morengi brothers. The East German ex-stasi guys. The butch Phillippino ladies? The dwarf stabbers? Queen of the hotel hits. We got everyone in. You can still get in on the ground floor there, Blank."
"And you're the head of this little conglomeration?" Marty said moving quickly into another hallway.
Workers of the world unite!" Grocer shouted, his voice definitely closer now.
"Are there meetings?" Marty said hearing Grocer's footsteps in the lab. Marty pressed himself against the wall.
"Of course!" Grocer leaped out of the lab and around the corner just as Marty lashed out with a well timed kick to his head. He promptly followed with a chop to one hand, forcing Grocer to drop one gun.
Grocer twirled to try and aim his second automatic pistol at Marty's head which was met with Marty slamming his shoulder against Grocer's arm and the wall. Grocer's finger pulled the trigger sending a bullet ricocheting around the hallway.
Marty ducked down and then slammed his kneed right into Grocer's midsection, forcing him to drop to his knees.
Grocer looked up and grinned to see Marty's gun pointed at his head. "See? Look at you, kid. Tell me you're not a killer."
Marty gave him a small smirk. "It's not me."
He then pulled the trigger. Twice.
Grocer flinched as he felt the impacts... and then blinked. He looked down to see two tranquilizer darts sticking out of his chest. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said in a slurred tone right before his eyes rolled back into his head and then falling back onto the floor with a loud thunk.
"Bing. Bing. Bang. Popcorn," Marty said quietly as he slumped against the wall.
Which was just about the time when the SWAT team burst into the building. Along with McCullers and Lardner.
"About frakkin' time you guys showed up!" Marty shouted as he reached into his shirt and yanked out the small microphone and wire to toss it at them.
Lardner caught it, one-handed. "You got him saying everything we need?" he asked, while McCullers supervised the SWAT agents handcuffing Grocer and starting to transport him outside.
"He named names and talked about his crew," Marty said leaning against the wall. "Plus he mentioned a job in Burma and the Paraguay thing. Weren't you guys listening?"
Lardner gave him a dirty look. "He was. I wasn't. Plus we were babysitting SWAT and watching to make sure Grocer didn't bring friends." He paused. "You might want to think about if this is the right time to run your mouth, Blank. Deal's still not final."
"You got you want you wanted," Marty replied. "In return for the evidence, I walk away; My mom gets the best treatment in the state and you never see me again."
"And you get that as soon as we verify what's on the tape and Grocer's in custody," Lardner said. "But one hint you're back to your old ways, and don't call us, we'll call you, capiche?"
"Listen to the tape," Marty said with deep breath and a wry grin as he slumped down on the floor. "Because in case you haven't heard: I've got a newfound respect for life."
The agent rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about smart-mouthed kids, before taking pity on Marty and tossing him a cell phone. "Here. Call your girlfriend, let her know everything's okay and we should be done with you in an hour or two."
Marty nodded in an exhausted way as he fumbled with the phone. A few more hours and he'd be out of here and once again from his old life.
[ooc: Preplayed again with the ever-so-wonderful chasingangela. NFI but OOC comments are given pie. And coffee. Maybe ice cream if you ask nicely]