breakstherules | GCPD meets London

Jim sighs, taking a moment to scrub at his face and sigh, looking towards the other officer sharing the space with them. Then he shrugs and taps his hand on the desk in front of him, "We have to check it out."

It had been their only new info all day, and even though this could be an entire risk, it had to be acted upon.

Louise looked at the officer stationed at the door.

"Tell Lestrade to assemble a SWAT team on the ground; we've no choice but to go in."

The officer nodded and left the room quietly. Louise put her head into her hands and let out a sigh of her own.

"This channel was heavily encrypted, Jim. Whomever is trying to access me is doing so out of fear. I could hear it in the caller's voice, garbled as it was. It's someone in, who wants OUT."

...Something the redhead knew a thing or three about.

Jim nods, "We'll need to get the airport authorities on the phone, cross check the passenger list, and go from there."

He assigns that task to another officer as he makes a motion to call Lestrade and update this info. Louise had been in the force long enough and has experience. He didn't judge that any other way.

Before long, Louise and Jim were in the car, the unmarked van lagging behind about a half-kilometre back so as not to draw attention. The detective was at the wheel, and she propped her elbow upon the window ledge, running a hand across the smooth side of her chignon.

"You kissed me with intent, back there. Why?"

She idly glanced at him from her position behind the wheel, at least 25 miles ahead of them before reaching the airstrip.

Jim was sitting up as best as he could in his seat, adjusting his Kevlar vest when she broke the silence between them. And of all questions, that one.

There's a pause, "You want to talk about this now?" There's a slight huff of irritation, being impressed she brought it up now with an entire SWAT team sitting just back behind them. Luckily it was sealed off from them.

"Do I have to have a reason?" Jim Gordon, master at talking about feelings.

Ignoring his initial question, she maintained her placid, easy tone, even as Jim's grew escalated. Casually flicking her eyes towards him, a knowing grin twisting her lips in the faintest fashion.

"No, I suppose you don't," she said, "Although it might make it clearer why there's a tension between us, why it's been there since the bar the other night before everything went down."

Vest adjusted, Jim's eyes met hers and he's silent for a moment before replying, "Call it in the heat of the moment."

He didn't know why, it was just impulse to pull her back in, just to feel her lips against his. That morning had been the most physical affection he's had in months and maybe it had turned him back into a high school student again for some bizarre reason.

Although he'd be lying that he's been concerned for her safety this entire time. It wasn't that he didn't believe she could handle herself in such situations, but none of this was certainly helping that shoulder of hers heal. "You know, you shouldn't be out here with your injury."

Maybe he found her attractive as well. Just a little.

For her part, physical affection of any kind had been absent from the detective's life for much longer than Jim's, her workload very much akin to his, and it was almost to the point that she had forgotten what it was like, save for the hazy lull of the dream which had allowed her to relax against her partner as she had early that morning.

"You're one to talk. I've seen your file," she countered with a huff, the alto of her voice tired and worn, its husky quality ever more present. "You're every bit as driven as I am, every bit as hard-bitten to see justice done. You've soldiered on with far worse; it's there in black-and-white on paper, Jim."

A beat passed as she slid her eyes over in his direction.

"And it certainly didn't feel like the heat of the moment," she commented. At least not to me, she continued in silence.

Edited 2015-08-31 16:35 (UTC)

"You've read my file?" He glances over, not sure whether to be amused (because he would've done the same thing) or insulted. But he wasn't going to jump into conclusions now.

"Driven or not..." He sighs, "Just be careful and try not to over do it, okay?"

He ignores her last comment, sitting back in his seat as best as he could, watching the outside.

"Of bloody course I've read your file," she protested. "I had to see if you were worth your weight in my taking you on."

She clocked him with another sideways glance as they made their way up the M1.

"I'll do what I want, Gordon," she intoned, appropriating his surname for greater emphasis.

"And you'll answer my query," she spoke, her aqua irises now focused upon the exit ahead.

"When did this become an interrogation?" He replies back, finally glancing over to her, and keeping his gaze there.

A small smile was hinted at the corners of his mouth, "I don't have to answer."

"You do," she intoned. "You owe me at leastthat."

For her part, her own gaze upon Jim continued to be unwavering, even as she shifted her eyes back to the empty motorway every so often.

Finally, Louise broke the silence, about 10 miles until the target point.

"I'm.....finding myself increasingly attracted to you, Jim. To the point where I'm..."

The auburn-haired, Scotland Yard DS allowed her husky, alto voice to trail off, not really knowing where she was going with this.

"Stay level-headed." He finished her sentence, his own gaze unwavering, "We have a job we need to finish."

Part of it was a lecture, but also a reminder that what was about to happen was big and he didn't want her getting too emotional before the events.

"We don't have to talk about this now." But as an afterthought, "I like you too." Why else would he have pulled her in for a kiss just hours ago?

At that pronouncement, Louise continued to hold his stare for a few moments before setting her eyes back upon the road.

The remaining ten minutes of the journey was spent in silence as they pulled up to the rendezvous point, placing their vehicles in shadow some yards away from the airstrip. Getting out of the car, Louise placed infrared binoculars to her eyes, trying to discern any movement around the small jet, as no doors had opened, no airstairs extended to the tarmac. The plane was just...sitting there.

Finally, she observed the pilots moving about in the cockpit, and she placed her radio to her lips, speaking softly, keeping her eyes trained on the subjects.

"Get your men into position now, over."

Edited 2015-09-01 17:40 (UTC)

Jim's leaning forward on the dashboard looking towards the plane and trying to discern what was taking place. Wiles had to be in there, but how many did he have with him? Worse, WHO else did he have with him.

Now he wondered who tipped them off, because this was definitely where they needed to be and could be their big break.

"Can you see anyone else in there?" Most likely not, but there was a chance.

She shook her head. "Only the pilots." Straining, she could then see the barest flicker of black movement from the small spate of woods just off the airstrip, her team assembling.

"Don't seem to notice anything, though," she murmured in a low whisper. "Good thing, too." Just then, her radio crackled.

"All ready, Ma'am."

Turning to Jim, she flashed him an anxious look. Suddenly, the door to the jet began to open, and the air stairs being folded out. The first two henchmen filed out, seemingly unawares, followed by three more.

Then.

The man himself took a step out of the plane, pausing at the beginning of the air stairs to light a cigarette. At 6'4", Adam Wiles cut an impressive figure in his black Armani suit; his pale Scots skin offset it, giving him an almost ethereal look, but the barest scruff of a beard lent a roughened edge. He scraped fingers through his perfectly-coiffed fauxhawk and began his descent, his steps languid.

Edited 2015-09-03 02:21 (UTC)

That was Jim's cue to move out, watching closely of the creeping movement of the SWAT team, thankful the airstrip itself was barely lit. They needed to get closer although they currently have the upper hand in the situation.

"There's probably more inside." Jim whispered to Louise, not trusting that he flew with this few of people.

Louise began to move with Jim, her eyes darting from right to left. Coming up next to him, she whispered back:

"That's an almost certainty," she muttered, "He never travels with less than a full entourage. They're likely hanging back inside, waiting until Wiles gives the all-clear."

Moving forward ever so slightly, the redhead was careful in her footfalls so as not to tread too harshly upon the grass, giving their position away. Holding up a hand to the rest of the team, she halted their progress, waiting for a cue from up ahead.

...It seemed ages before the young drug lord pulled out his slim Vertu mobile from his inner suit coat pocket and dialled, murmuring low words into it before sliding it blithely back into his jacket. Soon after, the remaining five guards came out of the aeroplane, treading a short path upon the tarmac upon landing. Wiles glanced at one of them, ostensibly the main heavy, and the other nodded, pulling out a phone and speaking orders into it.

That was enough for Jim, not wanting them to signal even more people while on their phones. His gun is aimed high and without another say, shoots, connecting the bullet to Wiles's thigh. He wasn't aiming to kill or severely main, but the stairs will help do some of the rest as the target slid down a few stairs.

He quickly aims again, this time targeting a man that was behind him and managed to get him in the shoulder.

Louise's eyes popped wide open as she shot Jim an anxious glance at seeing the bullet pierce Wiles' thigh, the drug lord slipping and crumpling under the weight of the pain. As he fell, he groaned.

"GET THEM!! FUCKING KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM, MACMANUS--TO THE LEFT!" he shouted in a refined yet rough brogue, made so through the searing feel of the wound.

Louise quickly moved behind a tree, and unlatched her other holster, drawing her other Glock 17. In one fast movement, she reappeared, firing both weapons simultaneously, taking one of them out after they'd killed three of her team.

Another one, ostensibly Macmanus, came at her from behind, but as his hand touched her shoulder, she whirled round and plugged him in the jugular.

Just then, the pilots came out with large shotguns, themselves trained assassins, and they began to fire as well upon the group.

Jim dashed to where a vehicle was waiting on the airstrip beside the plane, checking the inside to make sure no one was inside (was it abandoned here for them to use once they landed?) and used the front as a cover. Raising up, he uses the hood as a stabilizer, allowing him to fire off a few rounds in succession mostly targeting the pilots that just arrived to the stairs with their larger firearms.

There were already men of his lying on the ground and he hated the thought they got caught up on this drama because of him, but now wasn't the time to second guess everything.

As soon as Macmanus fell slack towards her, Louise used his body as a human shield when the pilots turned on her after being unsuccessful at pinning down Jim. Wrapping one arm about his chest, she fired with the other, her eyes focused and intense. One of her shots hit the pilot in the gut, and he slumped over, his shotgun misfiring as he did, finishing him off.

Shoving the body of the henchman to the ground, she ran, darting through the trees to the other side of the airstrip to where Jim was. Flinging herself low to the ground next to him, she backed up against the car, reloading her magazines from two holders strapped to each ankle. Tossing him a glance, she nodded back towards the plane.

"How many of them do you reckon we've got left to beat?"

He stops to reload with new magazines for his own gun, pleased to see Louise joining him and all in one piece. The rest of the SWAT team continued on their own as they lied low for a moment.

"Looks like there's 4 taken out, I'd guess maybe 6 more." He didn't think there were any more than 10 on the plane, but they ran the risk that whoever they called notified others to join in, and if that happened, they were probably in trouble. They had set up a road block into the place, staked out by two men, but it clearly wouldn't be enough if worse came to worse.

Popping back up, he fires and clips another guy, watching him fall outside the stairs dropping at least 5 feet, "Hopefully only 5 more after that."

Two more shots were fired, and Louise went against possibly every precaution that Jim had given, or would have given, about her injury and post-op, and flung her top half above the car's roof, both barrels blazing, and took out the two bastards who'd fired upon them. A lazy smirk crossed her features as she slid back down the side door of the car and back to sitting beside him. Quirking an eyebrow at him, she tossed him a glance.

"And now there are just three."

Three that still had guns as bullets pelted the hood of the car just as Louise sunk down.

Jim glances between the car mirror and the door, hoping he was shielded enough to have a look. She was right, he only was seeing three right then, Wiles, a pilot, and one remaining henchmen.

"Notify P.D. that we'll be heading back soon and can use whatever backup is left." Which was code for Jim wanting to finish business here and end things. Too many lives were lost already on their side.

The SWAT team that remained was moving in closer, keeping the remaining three lingering around the stairs of the plane, leading Jim to come out of hiding and follow close behind them.

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