The moment that Hughes hit the deck in a shower of his own blood was stuck in my mind like a corrupted file. A download you wish you could delete and start again. Starting,stopping, starting in a vicious little circle around the inside of my head.
What the fuck did i think i could accomplish with Hughes in his new found form as a cadaver. Driving off with his corpse was probably the most idiotic thing i could do, but it was ok, i could rectify this, a quick chat with DocWagon guys my Remmington and some C4 and Hughes will be off the grid. Then we could do anything we want to bring down Dunning-Kruger. We could set up that other guy up as offing his fellow employee in some kind of sacrificial ritual or some shit.
Pulling into an alley i work through what i need to do. Its as i step out the car and the Wagon flys past that the hole in the plan rips the rest apart. It was only a moments glance, a fraction of a second. The wagon that drove past and was more akin to an armoured transport. Paramilitary, armed, dangerous. Fuckballs.
It would take a team time and coordination to take a Wagon out of the grid. Smashing in a maintenance cap on the outside of Hughes’ ride i fill the space with explosive foam, after ramming in a detonator i turn towards the approaching shit storm. Only two operatives move out the vehicle, a little silver in the lining.
Now on to the verbally dexterous part. A few moments of failed flabbergasting, finds me with my hands against the wall and a gun pointed at my head. Not the close proximity i had in mind. My fall back became my only play, and i cursed myself for it.
The second DocWagon operative got halfway through calling in reinforcements before disappearing into the cacophony of the vehicles visceral exoneration. A few seconds later and i had the gun and another corpse for the collection. By the time i made it back to my other ride, the night had been filled with the sounds of the Knight Errant crusading towards me.
Time to drive.