In the terms of defense, a T intersection was something you could really work with. You could back up, forcing enemies to come into a perfect killzone.
Charley and Two, didn't do that. They stood at the intersection, back to back. Not taking the easy position, because the harder position could be held. Both rooms the hallways ended at were already filled with the unconscious forms of heavy armored police officers, but more kept flooding in... sensing a weakness, that was not at all there.
Two was the opposite of Charley. Where each pull of the trigger for Charley sent a single round, accurately into a form to explode in ball lightning... Two just held the trigger down on the squad machine gun he held in both hands. One room was a quiet storm, the other was a hurricane.
From Charley's room, there was suddenly a break in the storm. A trio of police came in, with full ballistic shields in front of them. Pounding their pistols against the metal that protected them. A sharp challenge in the chaos. 'Shoot here, shoot us'. Charley, did not.
"Shields." Was all the man said. The high tech electronics in the grinning mask he wore, marking the three forms in a sharp red that followed them. Finger stopped the constant pull of the trigger. Without looking, his left hand came off the front grip of his assault rifle and reached behind him. Plucking a grenade right off the webbing of Two. The pin held tight, coming loose when the man tugged at the explosive. The spoon flicked in the air, gently. And with a simple motion, Charley sent it right off to bounce off a shield, and land right at the feet of the man holding it.
"Sh-" It was all the cop could say as he looked down. Then the grenade exploded in too bright light. Arcs of electricity danced over the room, jolting men and metal. Forms danced for a second, then fell, all to the wide eyes of Charley who watched all of it with a satisfaction that probably shouldn't of been allowed.
He didn't even notice the silence behind him, but when he turned from the scene of devastation he just created, he was face to chest with the giant form of Two. He towered over Charley. Charley still looked up to the other man's mask, as casually as ever in an unspoken question of 'What?'.
"Dude, we just talked about this at the Therapist." The electronically masked voice of Two echoed out in the silence, as the police readied their next assault and tried to come to the terms that hundreds of unconscious bodies were littering the bank the Lottery crew was hitting. Two motioned over to the grenade pin, hanging from his webbing.
"Oh... Oh!" It took a moment or two for Charley to understand that he even did something, perhaps disrespectful. "I'm sorry man, but there were shields... and you had a grenade..." A quick explanation, but perhaps that was not needed right then.
There was an audible sigh from the giant of a man, as he shook his head, in disappointment.
"One. I feel, disrespected, when you pull grenades off my webbing. It is my webbing. I put the work into gathering the grenades..." Two began, just to be interupted lightly by Charley.
"Two, this might not-" It was as far as Charley got before Two pushed his words on.
"AND. And One, I feel, that I deserve to throw the grenades I put there." Two was using emotive statements, to better show his position and mindset. It was a pretty good, emotive, tone. However spoken by emotionless, masking, electronics between two men who had shot a triple digit number of police in the past ten minutes.
It was Charley's turn to sigh. He reached into the overcoat with his free hand, bringing out a curved magazine that he used to slap the spent one out of his rifle. Might as well reload, in the quiet.
"Two..." He began, slowly. "...I, understand, how you feel in this matter. And I apologize, for hurting you, and taking your grenade without asking. I, ask, you to understand that in the heat of combat, I think rather fast. I do not do that in disrespect."
Two was nodding, to Charley's word. A sensible nod of understanding.
"And..." Another dip of a gloved hand into that thick overcoat, Charley wore over even heavy armor. Fingers came out with, another grenade. But before he clipped it to Two's webbing, he pulled out sharpie, and drew on it.
The grenade that hung from Two's webbing, had a smiley face on it.
"And, I replace that grenade I used, in the spirit of friendship. The smile on it, is how I feel, when I work with you. I hope this solves whatever bad feelings you have, about this moment." It was carefully chosen before spoken. Charley reached up, and put a hand on the larger man's shoulder as he put the sharpie away in a pocket.
"I appreciate you, and enjoy working beside you." Spoken in the manner of something, spoken many times before. The motions were mirrored by Two, who slapped a hand on Charley's shoulder and mirrored the man's words.
"I appreciate, and enjoy working beside you too, One." There was a couple of quick nods there, from the man obviously quite pleased at the exchange. Then, suddenly, Two's grip on Charley's shoulder tightened. "Come on, bring it in here man."
"OH! No, no, I don't really like being-" Hugged. But he was being hugged by the much larger man. To the point he was half off of his feet, from the difference in size. Charley sighed, lightly.
It was this moment, the police decided to send in the next wave. They were streaming in, both rooms, in an ordered line. Filling the space, and coming right in line with one masked, armored man roughly hugging another masked, armored man.
It caused the dozens of police to suddenly halt and look, confused, at the pair. Charley sighed, once again, emotionally weary from the exchange and this sudden embarrassment.
"Oh, come on..." A soft, annoyed mutter from Charley. "Two, they're looking right at us, can we...?" It was left unspoken. Two hadn't even opened his eyes from the hug he was laying on Charley. When he did, he saw the situation. He released the other man.
Both went to war, immediately. Shocking the police with the speed both men brought weaponry up and began firing. Turning those hallways and rooms, into storms that rained fire, once again.
Charley 'Boom Boom' Skinner. One.
Leader of the Lottery Crew.
The criminal crew that does group therapy.
