by TheTimeTrust
The Uffizi Museum, Pisa, Italy:
Chance was making a pumping motion on the Raptor's chest with his hands and trying to induce breathing via mouth-to-mouth as he was once trained to do during his brief stint in the Swedish military back in the early '90s. Raptor's problems couldn't have happened at a worse time for the team.
"Dan: we need to find a better position to defend ourselves," Chance whispered. "We're completely exposed here in the middle of the room."
"Right," Danny Hearn nodded. "Grimm, help Chance with Raptor into the corridor. Dirk, you..." He looked around. "Dirk?"
"Don't. You. Move," said a harshly whispered female voice in the darkness. A tightly focused beam of light shone on the three men and the unconscious Raptor.
"I'm guessing you're not the night watchmen," remarked Danny humorlessly.
The room went silent as the Sheik gripped his scimitar and shone the flashlight over the faces of the four men. Rose stood there with her rifle pointed directly at Danny, while Chance listened for signs of breathing from Raptor. Arges, the seven-foot-tall cyclops straight out of Greek mythology, moved away from the two, closer to Grimm.
"Who are you people?" Rose finally asked.
Sheik's beam hovered on Grimm's skull-face. An Arabian expletive left his lips as he realized that this was no mask. "Hey, cyclops -- looks like we've found someone to match your ugliness, eh, effendi?" he laughed. Rose shot him a look, but neither of them noticed another figure moving quickly up behind them at that moment.
"You fucking move and I'll blow both your heads off," the whispered voice of Dirk Bell said as Rose and Sheik felt the barrels of two .45's digging into the back of their skulls.
Arges began to growl and gripped his axe. "Don't move, cyclops," Rose ordered. Arges stopped moving forward and stood guard on Grimm, a low growl still in his mouth. The situation was very tense at this moment.
"Watch it," growled Grimm, who watched the one-eyed Arges with sockets that held no eyes.
"Lower your gun, sweet cheeks," demanded Dirk calmly.
"I'm not lowering anything, wise guy," Rose replied immediately, keeping her gun trained on Danny. "I'm betting I can knock off at least one shot to your partner there while you're still pulling the trigger."
"You'll still be dead," Dirk said. "Both you and Abdul the Arab, here."
Chance nodded to Danny and stood up over Raptor's prostrate body. "Let her shoot me."
"What--?" gasped Sheik, while Rose and Dirk remained silent.
"Go ahead. Try and shoot me, if you wish," said Chance. "You won't be able to kill me, no matter how many bullets you try to shoot my way. And before you'll be able to realize that or move into another position, our cowboy here will have already killed the both of you. And I'm guessing that your cyclops here is an even match for our own strongman." He nodded toward Grimm. "And even if you manage by some miracle to avoid getting your brains shot out, you'll still have to worry about the police parked across the street. There are no silencers on those .45's, and they'll be here faster than any of you can escape. All-in-all, we've got the advantage."
"I wouldn't count on it, Jack," came another voice from the other end of the room. X-Acute had his own guns trained on both Dirk Bell and Danny to be sure, guessing that a bullet probably wouldn't stop Grimm. "You shoot ours, we shoot yours. Looks like we've got ourselves a regular Mexican stand-off..."
"Who the fuck are you guys?" Dirk Bell finally said. The situation was ridiculous. The room was filled with an assortment of odd-looking characters who all seemed to have broken into the museum at the same time for what might very well be the same reason.
Danny had been trying to revive Raptor during this time, and the Italian finally began to breathe again, though he was still unconscious. He mumbled to a voice only he could hear, "I know, I know," and stood up as well, his free hand raised. "Uh, people, I'd prefer it if we could settle this without any guns being shot off. We're not exactly in the best place to begin a gunfight."
"I completely agree," said a new voice, that of Johnny Omicron, who lowered the visor on his face and stepped into view next to X-Acute. "Lower your guns," he said to X-Acute and Rose.
X-Acute frowned. "No fucking way."
"Chief, you sure you know what you're doing?" Rose said tersely.
"Just, please, everyone -- lower your weapons," said Omicron.
"You too, cowboy," Danny said to Dirk. "This is a no-win situation."
Dirk snorted derisively. "You gotta be kiddin' me."
"I'm lowering my gun," said Rose finally, bending down to put her piece on the floor.
"Easy, sister."
"The Swede's right about the sound of those guns, cowboy," said Danny. "They go off, and we'll be lucky if we can get out of this museum, let alone Italy, alive." Well, most of us, he added mentally, thinking of Chance, whose luck was only guaranteed to protect himself, not the others, though occasionally it was a help to those around him. "Especially in the condition we're in right now." He looked down at the unconscious Raptor and his own damaged arm.
"Are we agreed, then?" asked Johnny Omicron. "Can you two lower your guns at the count of three?" Silence. He began, "One... two... three..." Neither of them moved.
"Aw, fuck," Dirk and X-Acute said at the same time.
"I think we have a trust problem here," said Chance. "But we really don't have any other viable option. I mean, I'll get out of here unharmed and free from capture, but I can't guarantee that for the rest of you..."
"Fucking pussy," Dirk mumbled, his eyes trained on X-Acute, who also glared back at him. The two seemed to stare each other down for several long moments, until finally they both lowered their guns slowly at the same time.
"Well," said Johnny Omicron, more than a little bit of sweat dripping down his forehead, "that's better."