`` if you want to get out ALIVE !! hayd/king

[Kingston Krown]

KINGSTON KROWN

King hopped in the passenger seat, not bothering to buckle up. "And where are we going?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Thought you said you didn't work for anyone?" King asked speculatively. He obviously had seen the fear in her face and then the running straight to the truck like she could be shot at any second was a real big indicator.

"So what did you do that you have to run from the CIA?" King said, his eyes piercing and yet he knew it wouldn't phase this chick. "Speaking of which, why is the CIA out here in the first place?" he asked, even though he knew they had been tailing himself... for certain issues, which annoyed the crap out of him... but he was willing to play along and hide the truth to find a little more truth. King was one to more or less likely hold all the cards, or at least he tried. Only problem was that in this game you never know which card is which.

-sorry crap post, I'm being distracted by TV and facebook xD-

[Hayden Lane Donovan]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/156ra7r.jpg] I don't. Her voice was nothing more than two growled words in response to his question. She knew it didn't look good, but hell, she hardly cared. She threw the mustang into gear and sped out of the parking lot. Sure, he was still in the car, but that was not the problem. As long as he didn't screw her over, she didn't care if he was there. She could kick him out on the side of the road at any time. In theory, anyway. One hand on the wheel, she took her phone out again, slipping onto a program she'd swiped before faking her death. Tapping into traffic cameras around the town, she flipped it to a warning system, settling it in one of the cup holders. She glanced down for a brief moment as it flashed a shot of the vehicle, tampered with it to reduce the effect of the tinted window. She cursed softly, in french for now though it would no doubt switch up at some point. Shane. They had to send stupid, stupid Shane. With her gone, he was their best agent. The early warning system beeped and she spun the wheel, pulling off onto a side road where they wouldn't intersect paths with the CIA vehicle. going the speed limit was definitely not a concern, and she fearless ducked around cars in front of her whether there was oncoming traffic or not, getting honked at like crazy, not that she hadn't done worse. Still she nearly forgot his second and third question with her mind still stuck on Shane. They'd trained together, sparred together, gone on missions together. The one in Prague stood out the most, of course. Until then, there had been a rivalry, but then... Well. Posing as a couple for a year and a half or so tended to work out the kinks. He'd almost told her to keep the wedding band, and it had only been the threat of the director finding out that had stopped him. Honestly, it still lingered in her pocket, a weighty reminder of the lies, as if she needed something else there to keep the memories ever present. Finally, a few words slipped out again, the questions remembered. Heard the wrong words, connected the dots. But they weren't here for me, if the cams around my house are any indication. And they sure as hell weren't looking inside the station. So the real question is, Sheriff, why are they after you? Sharp eyes glanced over to him for a moment, meeting his eyes. There was a reason she'd been their best despite her age and there was a damn good reason that they would never let her see the light of day again if they caught her. Not that she was going to give them a chance to lock her up. She'd die before she let that happen. Of course, it was possible they hadn't found her house yet, that this had nothing to do with him. But his actions yesterday, the smooth and practiced motions no cop, even a sheriff, would have. That told her otherwise. And anyway, she trusted her gut and her gut was telling her this wasn't about her. Not yet, anyway.

[Kingston Krown]

KINGSTON KROWN

King leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on her dash and curling his arms behind his head as if it was an easy stroll on a Sunday morning and not the jerking rapid swerving movement of a car. "Well... it goes a little something like this...." King began, closing his eyes quietly, not really caring what happened, his bowie knife firmly gripped in his left hand and hidden between his back and the seat, the cool medal burning against his hand.

"I could tell you...," King said in a quiet almost bored tone. "But I'd have to kill you." King peeked his eyes open and checked his right hand's watch. He'd let them sweat it out a little longer. "Turn left on Maple street if you could... please," King said switching out the bowie knife and checking his phone as well quietly. There were a couple of text messages from a... 'friend'. "Hmm.. to answer or no?" King thought quietly. "Nah...," he thought. He pulled his left hand around, Bowie knife in hand before he shoved it to the side of his belt. "You might want a gun present by the way, because we will be stopping. ... and soon."

"Oh Right on Mckinley Drive and then go straight until you hit Horsethief Way, then pull off on that dirt road for about a mile."

Truth be told he was in deep shit, and after his 'stunt' with Hayden he was going to be in even deeper shit. But James and Kayla would forgive him.

[Hayden Lane Donovan]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/156ra7r.jpg] An amused grin slid to her face and, for the first time in a long time, she actually laughed. A proper laugh, a real laugh, not faked at all. She rolled her eyes, glancing over at him. Trust me, I've got the clearance. She paused a moment, smile faded a bit, an almost sad tinge to it as she looked back to the road, right hand falling to her side off the wheel, fingers slipping into her pocket, rubbing over her CIA credentials and the bloodstained wedding band. Or I did, anyway. She shouldn't say a word, she really shouldn't. And she probably shouldn't follow his direction either, considering it involved dirt roads. If he had a problem with the CIA, and somehow he knew she had been part of them, there was the chance he didn't know she was split from them now and this could very well be a trap. But then again. She'd rather die by his hand than the hand of the CIA. Her left hand gripped the steering wheel tighter for a moment. To hell with it. Today was already going wrong in every way possible. May as well screw it over completely. Her hand fished the credentials out of her pocket and tossing them to his lap, the name, her real name, clear as day. "Logan Drew Bailey". Don't bother pulling a gun on me. I'd tear them down and leave them crying for mercy if I got the damn chance. There was a fire to her voice, something that had no doubt been there before, though hidden, held back. Now, it was left to run rampant, an uncontrolled wildfire. Logan Drew Bailey was certainly not dead. Just flipped sides and looking to cause a little hell in their ranks, or die trying. Of course, him seeing the badge hardly meant him getting the whole story. No, that wasn't about to happen unless necessary.

[Kingston Krown]

KINGSTON KROWN

"Would you shut up? I'm not pulling shit on you, and if you're smart you'll hide that damn thing," taking the badge he shoved it between his seat, "And just play along. And if you think for a second you can get away from those guys alive or at least 'crying for mercy' you're shit out of luck kiddo. I'd have trouble with James, let alone Kayla, and together they are hell on wheels, so if you're smart you'll shut up and act invisible." He realized how harsh and how little sense his words were making. He sighed, "J and K aren't here for you, their jobs don't involve what ever it is you are mixed up in, so even if they knew what you were up against they wouldn't say anything...." He wasn't going to finish why they wouldn't say anything.

"Now do as I said, pull off this road and stop when you hit a mile, play it cool and just stay in the car." King felt like he was messing with a rookie all over again. And frankly her giddy attitude was beginning to make him anxious and even a little nervous. If she wasn't careful he was going to get trigger happy... which was why he was in this mess.... Well it wasn't exactly trigger happy... he'd just.. had a moment on the field and things had gotten out of control.... "Shit," King said, gripping his head, trying to force back the memories that were threatening to break like a dam overflowing.

[Hayden Lane Donovan]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/156ra7r.jpg] I'm no damn kid. I've been doing this since I was eighteen. I was the best they had. And with Shane in that car, you're damn lucky to have me. She replied, unable to stop smiling anyway. She may hate the CIA, but damn it, she'd missed this. The chases, the reckless driving, the unexpected twists and turns. She very nearly jerked the car to a stop and told him to get the hell out and walk the mile if he was going to leave her out of this, but that would be counterproductive. That would get her out of this completely, and she wasn't sure she wanted to do that quite yet. The adrenaline rush was addictive. She missed it. And for once, she didn't feel like shooting someone. That was a big improvement. ---eep. bad >.<---

[Kingston Krown]

KINGSTON KROWN

"Shane isn't in the car, who ever that is. And I've started this since I was fifteen and I'm six years your senior, kiddo," King said with a serious glare. "And if you keep going they will shoot out your tires like you just did to that prick yesterday. They want me not you. They think you're trying to kidnap me, which is pretty entertaining, but if you don't pull over you're going to have a shit load of guys just itching to pull a trigger on you, and they have the legal side of this to shoot you and get away with it."

King looked at her rear view mirror to the tinted car, damn Kayla was holding off, but any second he was going to try and spin King and Hayden with the classical 'hook n spin' trick, bumping the left side of the bumper and jerking the car out of control, especially at this speed. And King didn't need whiplash along with his bandaged shoulder. King was almost considering knocking this paranoid chick out just to stop the car, she was freakin crazy....

Just as he almost lifted his hand to get her at the back of the neck he spotted two cars up ahead, one of them was latino and he leaped into his piece of junk Honda and peeled off, the other one, a big burly mexican hopped in the passenger side of his van and turned down an old trail. Without thinking King grabbed the wheel of her car and jerked it left. "Shit shit, follow him," King said, climbing in the back and pulling out parts of a AK 47 and began putting it together. "Shit... where did... ah," King said, finding the magazine cover, or the clip, strapped below his colt .45 hand gun. He jammed it in quickly, wondering quietly where he left his second clip.... He looked around quickly and sighed, he undid his belt and hooked it around the head rest of the passenger seat and swung open the door. Using his colt he shot out the back tire, it jerked but continued to drag on, two heads popped out of the van door and they began shooting. A bullet grazed his arm and he swung back into the car, "Shit." With an aggravated sigh he popped in another clip and grabbed his glock, hooking his left hand threw the belt, a bullet shattered her back window and King called, "SORRY ABOUT THAT! I'll have you know on good authority that I have excellent insurance!"King called back to Hayden as he managed to hit one of the guys hands, hopefully shattering his metacarpal joint. He wasn't shooting like crazy, infact he'd only shot three times, once to get the tire, once that hit the side of the van, hopefully just under the gas tank and the last time in the hand. King shot just below the gas tank again until he saw the putrid liquid begin spilling out on the rode. He looked behind him to where the CIA car was. Well where it would have been, it had already disappeared down another back road trail and was already in the process of getting ahead to cut the van off.

"CAN YOU GET ME TO THE LEFT SIDE OF THE VAN HAYDEN?!" he called back down to her, ducking once more from a round of shots from the opposing AK47 in one of the dealers hands. King ducked back in tossing his guns back in their holsters and grabbing the AK47 and hopping to the right and rolling the window down. He stuck his torso out and set the AK47 on the roof of the mustang and he shot the left side of the van where the driver side door was. He then shot out the front tire and it jerked and almost lost control. King used his feet to keep himself anchored under the seat.

[Hayden Lane Donovan]

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[atrb=background,http://i55.tinypic.com/156ra7r.jpg] First of all, you said a mile. It's been half a mile. She growled softly, having noticed the following car but not quite caring nearly as much. Perhaps she should, but then again, fear simply didn't come naturally to her. Not when it came to this, life or death. More so when it came to freedom or captivity. And I was referring to the car at the station. I'd recognize him anywhere after Prague. She didn't elaborate, didn't say what had happened in Prague. It wasn't his business. King need not know how very intimate it had gotten, how it had not stayed strictly business. The healed over bullet wound above her heart throbbed with phantom pain. And then the shooting began. She didn't swerve to avoid the bullets - that would make it worse. She did set to weaving slightly, just enough to throw their aim off. It wasn't difficult with the rougher terrain - to throw off their aim that is. Glass splintered and shattered, a bullet grazed her cheek, but she hardly noticed. Her mind slipped back to her time in the agency, back to following orders, and she did just as asked. She followed and pulled to the left, flooring it to shorten the gap. I've got a couple of what would pass as flash grenades and small explosives if those'll help. Not big, but distracting. Despite the speed, her hand fell from the wheel again, rummaging around in the pocket on the inside of her coat, pulling the aforementioned gadgets out and holding them in her hand. They were, indeed, small, no bigger than a gumball and most a little smaller. Just throw. The force of impact makes them work.