There was a FP mob in the SE U.S. w/ a Lic to Kill and JET was at or near the top of the list for driving their potential practice buyers out of the arena. 😀
And.. HE and MMD were holed up, surrounded by FPs and CRNAs. They had one clip to share b/w them and it looked like a done deal.
Who wins?
Jet surveys the mob of angry FP dudes from behind the slightly opened door of the doctor's lounge. They're gathered in the hallway leading to the doctor's lounge on the third floor.
Mil shakes his head while crouched behind Jet.
"Dude, we're fu cked."
"Hardly!" Jet replies.
"Ya see that little door on the other side of the hallway?"
Mil crawls closer to the cracked door for a better look.
"Yeah, SO?"
Jet closes the door. "Its a laundry chute. We'll slide down to the first floor laundry room and its
BUH BYE MOB from there!"
Jet pops the clip out of the 9mm Glock as he continues.
"I've got ten shots. I'll open the door. When you hear the
Glock popping it's cover fire make your way to the chute. I'll meet you at the bottom, my friend."
A
click resonates through the doctor's lounge as Jet pops the clip back into the weapon.
"Ready?"
"Not really," Mil replies. "Its now or never though."
"Alright dude. Meetcha at the bottom."
Jet swings the door open.
"GO! GO! GO!!!"
The Glock in Jet's hand commences cover fire.
POP POP-POP
Mil does a double roll to the chute's door, flips it open and disappears into the chute.
The mob returns fire. Jet, still protected in the doctor's lounge, does a
LEAP OF FAITH, SONNY CROCKETT MIAMI VICE STYLE across the hallway, the last of the 9mm rounds emerging from the Glock. He hits the chute sideways, most of his body in but legs still exposed.
A round from the mob grazes Jet's calf as he makes it all the way into the chute.
Jet pummels three stories down the metal slide and lands in a heap on top of Mil with a
FWUNCK.
"Man, get the f uck off me you redneck!" Mil says, erupting in laughter.
"Yeah no problem, Orient Express," Jet replies, examining his calf. Just a flesh wound.
Jet and Mil right themselves. They glance around at the doldrums of the laundry room.
"You OK?" Mil queries.
"Yeah," Jet says.
"The monsta truck is parked outside. Lets get the f uck outta here."