Sunday, May 23, 2004

   Cream Filling & Nougat: Third Helping (Chapter V)
[Yeah . . . . . I think this one got pretty long . . . . . such is what happens when you write action sequences, I find . . .]


". . . aw hell, Valdez's name popped up . . . . . uh, there's a DiBiase, a Heenan, a Hennig . . . . ." Cream read the names into the radio that was held against his shoulder as they popped up on the sheet. Cream still had his suspicions as to just how high up these names were and how big their bust really was, but he was still pretty happy with how things were going. As he continued to read the sheet, he walked around the inside of the large van, trying to pocket as much evidence as he could - of course he still kicked himself for forgetting a camera. He flipped to the next sheet on the clipboard. ". . . a Rude . . . a Santana . . ." Cream paused, looking at the next name. ". . . ah, this name can't be real . . ."
"What?" Nougat asked on the other side of the radio. Cream slid his radio out from between his head and shoulder and took it into his free hand.
"There's . . . . . there's a Sprinkle?"

His teammates outside seemed to be making a little more noise running around the van. Cream knew Nougat was emphatically shouting something through the radio, but couldn't quite catch it as he kept hearing the noises outside . . . noises that sounded like other vehicles . . .
"Did you just say Sprinkle?" Nougat said clearly, grabbing his partner's attention back to closer matters.
"Yeah, I did, what does . . ." Cream jumped as something blasted its way through the van, causing him to drop the radio. He dove to the floor of the vehicle as well as more bullets ripped through the van's sides. The young detective crawled back to his radio and clicked it on. "Noug'! I'll hafta get back to ya in a sec, I think we're in thick and heavy-like right now! Get us some back-up!"

Cream drew his gun and crawled his way to the open back doors of the van.
"Everyone! Where are you?!" he shouted. Losanje was the first one to dive into the van.
"Sarge," she said, "I think we've got some problems . . . about a dozen or two . . . . . with lots of bullets . . ." Losanje stepped back out of the van, peering from behind the open door, and returned fire at someone Cream was unable to see. She slunk back fully behind the door when a bullet skipped off the pavement near her feet. Cream traded places with her and took a peek at what they were working with . . . at least ten cars had made a half-circle around the van, trapping them between men with guns and the large unfinished building behind them.
"A trap . . ." Cream said as he swallowed hard, ". . . we made too much noise so they set a trap . . ."

Cream shouted for Schotse and Munt to get into the van. He could barely make out the sound of their boots on the road amidst all the gunfire and riccocheting bullets - he definitely heard the one grunt, though.
"Sarge!" Munt cried out from around the van, "Schotse got hit! I think in the leg!" Cream swore to himself.
"Munt, Losanje," he ordered, "I want you to get loud with your sidearms . . . now!" The two officers returned fire at the circle of cars, putting shots either through windows or swung-out doors with the experience of marksmanship exams and contests shining through. The change in the opposing volume of fire was slim but enough, and Cream continued tossing himself out and around the van to the wounded officer. "Schotse, how are ya?"
"I can shoot just fine sittin' down," Schotse said with a heavy grimace, "just park me somewhere useful." In any other circumstance, Cream probably would have laughed at the remark.

After unsuccessfully trying to move the large police corporal, Cream took over Munt's position and told him to get Schotse into the van. Cream fired some well-placed shots of his own at the circle of men. He couldn't believe how varied they were in dress; some looked like they were fresh off the streets while others looked like they had just come out of business meetings. Though he couldn't believe it, he still didn't especially care, as they were all trying to kill him and his team.

"Alright, everyone pile in!" Cream commanded, "we're gettin' the hell out of here!" Everyone got into the van and Losanje worked to close the rear doors. Just before she could get the latch closed on the right door, a bullet bounced off the back of it, deflecting straight into her hand. She swore long and hard and fell backwards into the van, banging her shoulder against a desk and knocking over a line of glassware. "Losanje!" Cream shouted from the front seat, head down, "screw the door, just get in and stay low!" He looked to the other passengers in the newly-acquired means of escape and was about to say something else before another close-cutting bullet interrupted him. Cream recomposed himself.
"Munt, you've got shotgun, get up here! Schotse, you just watch that nothing that can see into the back of our ride sees us for long!"

Cream had already pulled apart the ignition port and was madly twisting and touching the wires together.
"Work, damn you!" He was shouting as Munt repeatedly fired through the now-broken side window of the van. "Ah, what the suck?!! Turn on, you blasted piece of . . ." the van roared to life. ". . . heaven!" Cream put the van into gear and slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. As he peeled around, he could hear more glassware falling and breaking, much to the chagrin of the two wounded occupants in the back. Losanje was still cursing her mind off while Cream started driving directly at the leftmost car in the ring. Bullets shattered the rest of the windshield as the four of them continued their approach. It was then when they heard a loud pop come from underneath them.
"Well, there go our wheels," Munt said as he reloaded his pistol.
"Damn . . ." Cream thought hard and quick. ". . . . . okay everyone! Hold on tight! You two in the back, keep your guns trained on that open door and pray I don't kill us!"
"What the suck are you talking about?!" Schotse screamed.
"Sarge!" Losanje shouted, "I hope you know what the fu-"
"Trust me!" Cream interrupted, "and hang on!"

The van steered poorly, considering half of its tires had been shot out. Still, Cream was able to bring it alongside the farmost car. Just before they collided, though, Cream slammed on the brakes hard and spun the wheel, causing the van to swing its rear in a wide arc. His team cursed and swore and continued to as the back of the van smashed into the front corner of the adjacent car, knocking it spinning clear out of their way.
"Munt! Losanje! Open us up a way out!" Cream shouted. Immediately, Munt and Losanje - using her offhand - opened up a hail of gunfire through the open back of the van. The open door had long since fallen off, and the men on the other side of the exit were quickly taken down by the precision shooting by the officers. "Alright, everybody out!" Cream shouted again, leading the way, barrels blazing. Losanje followed shortly afterwards, and Munt soon after her, his arm assisting Schotse's escape. Cream had a sure feeling that he was about to die as the four of them ran across open ground towards the corner of the closest building, back towards the populated side of downtown. By that point all of their guns were dry and there was no good opportunity to reload . . . . . all they could do was run as fast as they could and pray that all would go well . . .

The four of them could hear police sirens; Nougat's back-up had finally arrived, and the amount of bullets flying around them decreased dramatically. Cream looked back to see what was happening, a smile creeping back onto his face. The smile died instantly when Munt fell forward onto his face, dropping Schotse in the process. He stopped and ran back to check on his fallen team members, who still managed to get up on their own power.
"Don't worry 'bout me," Munt said to Cream, "I'll make it around the corner first . . ." Cream nodded and put a hand on both their arms, leading them forward. They were just about to get around the corner of the building when another bullet whizzed through their midst, startling all of them once again. Cream looked back a final time . . . his head immediately snapped around. Swearing to himself again, he put a hand on the side of his head and touched blood. As he started to fall, Losanje grabbed him and swung him around the corner of the building before making sure the rest of the team did the same. From there, the battered team hobbled into the open downtown region, hoping to chance upon some police officers . . . or better yet, upon some paramedics . . .


[So, you guys gettin' excited yet? Hehe . . . . . well, if I didn't bore you to death with this INSANELY long chapter, I thought I'd share something with you guys . . . this is a scanned picture of a couple pages out of my school planner with some of my written notes for "World's Finest". See if you can figure out what parts of the story they're of!

(You might hafta copy and paste this into the address bar. I don't think Angelfire likes hotlinking.)
http://www.angelfire.com/ny3/someguy/images/CreamAndNougatNotes.jpg

That'll be all for tonight. See ya tomorrow!]
Comments (10)