I hope and pray, that in the year of our Lord 2025, we can stop referring to Step Up as a 'major movie franchise' 🤭
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I hope and pray, that in the year of our Lord 2025, we can stop referring to Step Up as a 'major movie franchise' 🤭
Prison Break: PART SIX
PART SIX
Not so far away in a small fishing community a few clicks from the cabin Love sat comfortably on the base of a large totem statue that had a commanding view of the frozen bay as well as an impressive view of the barge that had crashed up on the rocky coast about 4 weeks earlier. It had only been a month and already the icy water had encased it's catch in an solid mass of ice that wouldn't melt until next season. It wasn't going anywhere.
Unfortunately, neither was the crew consisting of hostile Federation soldiers.
Looking over the area it seemed like the crew was keeping inside the enormous broken rig for shelter.
"Stupid bastards are sitting next to an abandoned village and they stay in the ship.", Love mumbled with disgust. She grabbed her sniper rifle off of the totem to her right and aimed expertly at the wounded rig to make sure her assertations were correct. Still one guard sitting sleepily in the cabin window looking like he was going to fall over at any moment. She wondered if they ever let that guy sleep.
She scanned the surrounding area and could see no changes indicating they were moving today.
"Stupid fucks", she chuckled as she turned on her heal confidently and headed home to what she was hoping was a hot meal an even hotter shower and a couple Porter's next to the fire. It was poker night and she was determined to beat Irish this time.
As she was walking toward her patrol along the large Sherman Fisheries store she saw a small yard to her left covered in fresh white snow. The fence was broken where it looked like a gate had been plowed through but if you looked at it just right you could almost imagine the beautiful green grass and full trees if not for this destructive infernal frigid snow. She didn't really mind the snow on principle, in fact she was used to it, but it was so damn cold here. There was never a break. Just all winter, all the time.
Truth be told it wasn't even really a yard she was looking at. It was a small lot of land behind a snowmobile and boat repair shop and it was littered in fish booies and metal barrels. There were pallets strewn about hidden in the blanket of snow giving it an innocent and lived-in feel that hid it's messy truth. She was so homesick that for just a moment she could almost pretend that she was home in Canada and she was in the back yard chasing her small kitten around the yard. There were three trees in the little makeshift "yard" she was standing in. All bare and looking dead in the winter's grasp.
A soft crackle in her earpiece brought her instantly our of her daze and she pushed her earpiece in gently to compensate for the moaning wind on her back. She turned her head to the side to sheild the assault and listen close for any updates on Pwny. It had been a rough few weeks but she was pulling through and they hoped she could be walking soon.
More static.
Love leaned casually against the wooden fence post and stared into the yard before her as she waited. I'm gonna build a snowman was all she had time to think before Irish came in over the speaker in her usual commanding tone.
"Come in Love."
She squinted into the exact spot where the snowman was going to go before she answered.
"Read you. What's up?"
"What's your position?"
"A-Dom side on the road just past Hum-V's"
There was a brief silence while Love turned on her heel and surveyed the friggot behind her at a distance. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever changes. It was like something out of the Twilight Zone.
"Same ol' same 'ol here. Kinda bored, actually."
"[static]...news? [static] ....Pwny had to-- [static] got *static*--stuck in her"
"Irish! Irish I can't understand you? You put what in Pwny? I can't hear you the FUCKING LAG" but Irish didn't hear her. She tried to listen closer but the damn static was impossible.
"—edule a visit" was all she heard in response as Love pushed on her earpiece willing it to work.
"Say it again, Irish. I swear to God this FUCKING LAG!!", Love bellowed irritated at their equipements constant malfunction. It never worked when you needed it.
"I said Pwny is up and walked to the bathroom on her own. She's gonna be mission ready in a week. She's got it stuck in her head she's going on this fucking mission with us so we need to schedule a meeting and plan our little visit. I'm not going to lose her on this mission because she's stubborn.", Irish said impatiently.
"...Oh.", was all Love could muster. That wasn't what she'd heard at all.
"Got it. I'll be back to spawn soon."
The mic clicked as the air frequency clicked off and Love was once again alone in her little makeshift Canadian yard.
Bending over and grabbing two large fists of snow she got to work on her snowman. She needed to move fast to get back to base in time to not raise suspicion but there was no way in hell she wasn't going to make it.
"I think I'll call him...... Chaaaad." she mused aloud to herself with a long mischevious smile.
* * * * * * * *
Irish stood in the comfortable cabin's kitchen behind the island and watched Country down her shot of whiskey as she watched Twiddle with a linebacker's intensity waiting for her to make a move.
Twiddle smiled innocently as she met Country's bet to the cent in poker chips.
Neither one flinched.
Even though they didn't actually have any silver backing them the chips were nonetheless critical to them. Whomever won had uncontestable ownership over the small radio they had found tucked away in one of the cabins many cabinets. It still worked too which was amazing considering they had never changed the batteries. About a month and a half ago all radio contact had gone silent from command and since then they only had their small range wireless communicators and this little radio. God only knew how long they would still be able to reach civilization. It determined the music for the entire week for everyone but it also set the tone. Which was a pickle because everyone loved and hated something different. No one would agree on one type of music so it had to be settled this way to avoid any confrontations... and it usually worked. But Irish was really good at poker which meant no one had been given a turn but her for weeks and it was wearing on the team.
The sound of Twiddle slamming a hard fist on the sturdy wood table snapped Irish out of her thoughts.
She had missed something.
Before she could get around the island Country had already swung on Twiddle with a tremendous right hook. Instinctively, Twiddle dropped down beneath the blow and escaped the mighty blast. Slamming her right shoulder into her stomach Twiddle tackled Country to the floor knocking over the table and chairs. They fell tumbling into a pile of broken beer bottles, chips and cards.
Erupting laughter bellowed into the kitchen as Irish looked incredilously to her left to see Pwny holding herself up on the wall preparing to ease herself into the kitchen. It was impossible to tell if she was holding the wall because of the pain of her injury or the powerful laughs that coursed through her body visibly shaking her violently as wave after wave of laughter exploded out of her.
Country and Twiddle stopped immediatly and looked up in shock to see the unexpected guest joining them just as Love entered through the arcadia door for a very "out of context" view of the situation.
Everyone looked around at eachother awkwardly unsure of where to start explaining.
"Well, damn it Twiddle be a gentleman and take her upstairs if you're gonna bed her. She's a lady not an animal." was Love's proud response.
A volcanic eruption of laughter filled the cabin and for a moment gave them the sense of comfort and safety they desperately needed.
Irish sauntered over to help Pwny onto the one chair that wasn't knocked over as Country and Twiddle helped eachother up awkwardly from their impromptu rumble.
They all pitched in to lift the table and chairs and left the cards and shattered glass on the floor at their feet. They all sat down in a mixture of chortles, chuckles and giggles that spilled over until they were fact to face.
Now that they were all sitting at the table facing eachother the euphoric mood of the room shifted to an ominous and serious black. As though someone had come along and turned down the volume with a knob.
They could wait no longer.
It was time to take out the Federation before they got the same idea first. They had supplies, ammunition and guns they desperately needed and not to mention they were good old fashioned assholes who just needed to be put down.
Check, check, check.
It was long into the night before they had agreed on a plan of attack.
Prison Break: Part Five
Washing what seemed like pints of sticky blood off of her hands Love grabbed for the bar of soap on the bathroom counter once more time.
Country bumped in behind her and pushed her to the left making room for herself in the small bathroom vanity to wash her dark crimson hands and arms. Making eye contact in the bathroom mirror Love and Country exchanged a knowing look that said what they thought of the girl in the room next door.
"She got lucky, Country. You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?", Love said with a patient smile.
Leaving their locked gaze in the mirror to work on cleaning herself up Country chose her words carefully.
"I couldn't see it was Irish. I just thought saw two idiots out for a walk in one of the most heavily concentrated Federation zones in the war. Jackasses. They were lucky. I only had my honey badger and couldn't see shit. It's why I only grazed her leg.", Country boasted impatiently.
Making no effort to hide her amusement Love let out a loud bellow that filled the small bathroom.
"I wouldn't mark that experience off as 'lucky' just yet. She almost bled out in a matter of minutes. You knicked her fucking artery for God's sake!".
"Ya well..." was all Country would reply as she reached for the second time for the now blood caked soap bar.
Drying her hands on the towel leaving no remnants of Pwny behind Love leaned casually against the wall to study Country carefully. She seemed more relaxed, at ease. Which made no sense considering she was never comfortable in her own skin around strangers. She could only assume having her friend here made her feel more comfortable. More safe. That sat well with Love. It said more than a simple, 'she's cool and you can trust her'.
"So... What's the plan?", Love asked gently.
Rinsing the last of the stains off of her wrist Country looked at Love's reflection in the mirror again and blankly answered with a shrug.
"So... same ol, same ol. Got it.", Love murmured with a grin.
With a twinkle in her eye Country gave her friend a slap on the ass as she walked out of the bathroom behind her. A water stain the shape of her hand brought a full smile to her face.
"Just another day in paradise at Casa de Country!" she exclaimed with mirth.
Turning on her heel Love was nose to nose with her commanding officer in the small hallway above the stairs.
"Ah fuck you man. You got lucky! Next time I'm going to take the whole pot AND the title." she said seriously.
Pushing closer than necessary Country puffed her chest out and put a single finger on Love's shoulder and pushed hard.
"Oh yeah? Because I am pretty sure four Kings and an Ace isn't luck-- it's a motherfucking landslide WIN. Casa de Country it is. Deal with it." she pushed once more for emphasis.
"Yeah well we'll see about that... Next time." Love returned with a shove of her own. "I'm not listening to any more of that twangy bullshit than I have to".
"Well, coincidentally... you HAVE to... for an entire week. Casa de COUNTRY. So suck it up, buttercup. I recommend you pack your big girl panties nice and fresh because you're gonna have to wear them for a whooooooole week" she antagonized unapologetically.
Shaking her head in disgust Love made her way down the steps toward Irish's exhausted form passed out comfortably in front of the warm fire. She looked so peaceful in the plush chair. She must have been deployed for a while. You don't sleep like that unless you just got back from a hard mission. Love knew the look well from experience.
"I'm going back to the saw mill to scout for hostiles. I'll be back for dinner, baby" she winked over her shoulder as she saluted the air mockingly.
"Stop by the store and pick up a gallon of milk, will ye?" Country returned.
"Of course. Keep my dinner warm." Love offered as she closed the door softly behind her so as not to startle their new roommate. Doors opening and closing was never something a soldier can sleep through no matter how exhausted they were. Experienced soldiers who live to fight another day, anyway.
Making her way across the room Country stopped and stood over her friend and smiled at LC curled up comfortably at her feet.
"Just like old times" she mused softly as she grabbed a blanket off the ground and covered Irish like a small child.
Tucking the sides of the blanket in Country grabbed the now near empty bottle of whiskey Irish had helped herself to. She took a long eager drink as she looked around the cabin now devoid of any order. Everything and anything was now on the floor thanks to their scuffle.
Finally having a moment to reminisce Country recalled the way Irish had thrown herself into the cabin with such force that it had knocked them both to the ground and sent their weapons sailing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a good fist fight. Rubbing her head she remembered the ringing sound that threatened to deafen her when Irish had cold cocked her mercilessly.
She must really care about her she pondered as she sat down on the staircase to think.
She had never known Irish to be reckless. She was always so careful. One thing hadn't changed: she was still the mother bear. You could fuck with her, you could even try to kill her-- but if you hurt someone under her watch you were gonna get the shit kicked out of you with a force you knew not existed. She'd always been like that since they were kids. She was always the one to fight for a reason. Not unlike Country. Which made them a force to be reckoned with in a pair.
The sound of the feet on broken glass from the kitchen snapped Country out of her reverie.
Irish's eyes flew open and had they the time Country would have made a smartass comment to acknowledge her instinctive awareness of sounds.
Looking around the room Country saw nothing to protect herself with. There was only a moment before she was tossed a small pistol from Irish who was now standing at the ready with her knife moving toward the kitchen with a stealth that was impressive considering the debris around them.
Clicking the bullet into the chamber Country aimed the PDW expertly toward the sound of the offending noise. Placing her finger over the trigger in the ready she listened for movement to triangulate where to fire.
Signaling to Irish that she would move forward Country slipped past and readied herself for the ambush.
A gentle voice echoed through the house, "Country you wanna tell me what the hell happened in here? I really don't want you to tell me this is because of you winning the poker game last night."
Immediately Country lowered her weapon in visual relief. Handing her gun back to Irish with a gracious smile Country gave a look that let her know they were safe as she pushed past the entryway and into the kitchen.
"Well, she's definitely not happy about the game last night... But this ain't from that. We got company." Country tilted her head toward the livingroom.
"Hostages?"
"No. Patient and a guest."
"Some guest... Friend of yours?"
"Nah.... Sister."
"I see... Explains a lot." she added thoughtfully showing no surprise to the revelation.
Walking into the livingroom to survey the rest of the damage she let out a long low whistle.
"Looks like the family reunion was a colorful one, to say the least.".
"Always is..." Country added with a laugh. "We'll get it cleaned up. Had to stich one up. She is resting upstairs. Long story. She'll be okay but it'll be a rough couple days if we don't get her some pain medicine."
Standing awkwardly in a pile of debris Irish outstretched her hand to the stranger critically surveying the cabin with a look that showed her displeasure of the mess.
Making eye contact after she had surveyed the room she closed in the small distance between them and shook hands.
"Twiddledeedee. Nice to meet you: sister of Country, thrasher of base." she offered with humor in her eyes. Her melodic laugh filled the small cabin and put Irish immediately to ease.
"Yeah, sorry about that. Irish Starbuck. Nice to meet you, Twiddle." was all she could think to say.
She was exhausted and being witty escaped her at this point.
Sensing her need to rest Twiddle gestured toward the comfortable chair nearby.
Needing no second offer Irish made her way back unceremonially and slammed into the chair before she wrapped herself quickly in the small blanket provided and immediately drifted back to sleep.
Pulling Country aside Twiddle whispered intently, "There's about six of them a mile away but they look well trained. I heard them calling out and they seemed to know what they were doing. I don't think they know we are here but it's inevitable-- we're going to bump into them eventually. I think we should do it on our own terms and assault the barge. We can't risk them surrounding us."
"Alright. Do you think it could wait? I don't know what she's been through but she's out of it. Off her game. We can't risk them dying if that's the whole reason we are going offensive in the first place. ...and the one upstairs" Country gestured above her, "isn't doing shit for a few weeks. We need supplies and more food or we won't have the strength to do anything to anybody."
Nodding in agreement Twiddle took a moment to consider their situation.
"Alright. We wait. First things first we gotta get this cabin secure."
"Agreed. Lets seal the entrances and then we'll do a full sweep of the area." Country added, "Love is at the sawmill scouting. Let's leave her be and get a jump on this until she gets back."
"Looks like it's time for housework" Twiddle suggested with a laugh.
"I'll grab the Windex" Country laughed in return.
Looking around at the debris that appeared to be a tornado's amount of damage Twiddle's face let her know that Windex wasn't going to do it.
Laughing they started their project while Irish slept peacefully warm in the small chair a few feet away.