2010-08-29: Get Out Of Jail Free


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August 29, 2010


Roads of Colorado


A prisoner transport goes terribly terribly wrong…

When the doors opened all he could see was white light. Blinding white light almost like he'd died. Months in lock up do that to a man. Tau blinks fiercely as everything comes into focus again, the Colorado sunshine bringing every fault, scratch, and line to light. He casts a glance over his shoulder back to the facility where he'd been kept for so long. Supermax was just that. A facility. A prison. But within he'd joined a brotherhood. That's what it means to be a Cobra.

His gaze moves downward to his own clothes while his feet tread the dusty earth towards the bus — Orange. It's nobody's colour, not even Tau with his dark cracked skin. His gaze moves further down to his boots, allowing himself to drag his feet and receiving an adamant push from the guard behind him. More than anything Tau would like to go ballistic on the motherfucker who prods him forward, but with his hands cuffed, there's little he can do but spit on the ground and board the bus.

Here, he's nothing more than a prisoner set for transport; destined to attend some hearing away from the prison.

The bus itself contains multiple guards — several at the back, several at the front. And a driver, of course. "Hell man, d'ya motherfuckers really think it's necessary! All it takes is one mofo to shoot a bro down, yo!"


"I heard that." The voice of agreement comes from the Bus Driver who happens to be chewing and *POP*'ing his gum every four chews. It's a nervous habit, it seems, because he just keeps on eye on the prisoner that has boarded his bus. Not to mention he keeps looking at the rest of the guards that are all armed and ready to go. "Hey! Youse guys is gonna' make sure we make it, right? I ain't tryin' to get the kinda' workman's comp that usually comes with this gig, y'know? I got three kids back at the house waitin' on Daddy to bring home the bacon. Haha!" He has no idea whether or not the guards are actually paying him any attention, but his peace has been said anyway.

Perhaps, also out of nervous habit, the Bus Driver has taken to checking the mirrors. All of them. Especially the side ones. He can't have any cars that don't belong behind him. Even if they do contain hot blondes.

"I've got it, Jack. Seriously. I've got it. I'll let you know if I need backup." Olivia mutters in exasperation - the tiny transmitter tucked into her ear directs her words back to another agent at FBI headquarters. The - surprise! - blonde is at the wheel of an unmarked, black SUV. Pulling up, she parks the vehicle approximately 30 yards from from where the bus lies. Ever so casually, she lifts a plain coffee cup to her lips, draining the rest of the warm liquid in one quick gulp.

Rather than let the gasoline go to waste, the key is turned and pulled out, the sounds from the vehicle quickly fading away. Still, no one exits that car just yet - not even Olivia in her snazzy black pantsuit.

The prisoner arches an eyebrow as the bus lurches forward, nearly causing him to hit his head against the metal bar in front of him. "FUCK, man! I may be in chains but I will cut you!" Tau is full of attitude even in his current state. He raises his chin, however, moments later, attempting to catch the driver's eye in the reflection of the mirror, "Three kids, huh? I got two baby mamas. Don't know 'em kids." The words are virtually spat as Tau shifts in his seat, it's not attitude that he's giving, it's just the attitude that he has.

"Where is my goddamn lawyer? I've been looking for that SOB for the last like twenty minutes?! Blonde bitch needs to git his act togethah." He continues to stare into the mirror, still attempting to engage the driver in some conversation. Who else is he going to talk to? He doesn't for the life of him trust the guards…

Bus D. River doesn't trust the guards either. He's too busy working the wheel of the damn thing to make sure that its actually lurching and cruising at the same time. His eyes have gone slightly wide at the sight of an SUV in his mirror, but that's okay. He's back to being nice and focused in the next moment. Thanks to the prisoner talking to him through the mirror. Glance. With a side head tilt for response.

"Everybody know people like you don't get no lawyer! Don't even know why you actin' like you ain't guilty!" The driver lifts one hand off the wheel to wave it with a slight overdramatic flair. "Everybody know that old sayin', right?" He's hoping the guards'll back him up on this one. "You don't need the facts, if the suspect is black! Haha!" Oh snap. Race Card.

Even while looking at the prisoner through the mirror again. Weird.

As the bus pulls away, so does the SUV. "On the move," the blonde murmurs. If anyone were to peer into the window of the vehicle, it would probably appear as if Olivia is talking to herself. But she's not! Promise. "I've got a bad feeling about this. My spidey-sense is tingling." There's a pause as she listens to what is said on the other end of the line. "Shut up," she rolls her eyes and snorts out a light puff of air through her nose - still, she smirks in amusement. With one hand on the wheel, the other reaches out to turn down the Top 40 radio station to a barely audible volume.

There's a considerable distance between the two vehicles, but wherever the bus goes - so does the SUV.

Despite Olivia's request, four more SUVs that look exactly like hers pull out off a dusty side road, two in front of her, two in behind. The windows are tinted completely black, not allowing the agent or the driver of the bus to peer inside.

The highway is completely deserted, allowing the last SUV in the line to pull out into the other lane and speed up alongside the FBI vehicle. It matches her, speed for speed, while the one in front of her slows down a little and the one behind her speed up for just long enough to … box her in. That's when the vehicle in the very front moves into River's sideview.

The guards in the bus have been chatting amongst themselves, not paying attention to the driver and a casual eye on the prisoner. He's locked tightly in his seat… he's not going anywhere… and he won't ever again.

A clink of glass and a spray of blood and brains is what activates the guards into motion, screaming and yelling at the driver to move, go faster, anything… while they begin to return fire.


All it takes is a single shot to Tau's brain and the man literally collapses in his seat — his body spilling into the aisle of the bus while his blood pools within it. It seems Tau's love-children will go a lifetime without knowing their father because now he's dead.

Two of the guards at the back spin around through the windows and shoot a veil of return fire — loudly sending bullets towards the black SUVs — ALL of the black SUVs.

Corbett Jones, the only Caucasian and the new guy at the prison is particularly rapt. His unsteadiness in his hands reflected in his shaking body. Prisoner transport was supposed to be relatively easy, with concerns only regarding the goings-on of the bus rather than the activities outside of it. He yells to the driver, "We're being tailed! Get down, we're covering you!"


That would be River's response to everything that ever happened in the past couple of seconds. He was in the middle of trying to duck and trying to drive at the same time, at this point. Because all kinds of stuff has just went wrong. Somewhere in the middle of whirling around a corner in a bus, he manages to peek back into the aisle, only to see the lifeless body of Tau. The frown that creeps onto the bus driver's face is not one of sadness, but one of something else. "Welp. This just got ten times harder."

At the yelling that comes next, the driver pops back up to pay attention to the road. "What do you want me to do?! Drive or duck?! I can't do both!" He's slamming on the accelerator even more and spinning the wheel in an attempt to bob and weave through some of the traffic that's in front of him. Which may or may not get slammed into by a bus with a crazy driver. "I thought these things were supposed to be bulletproof!"

"What the— " This is not what Olivia was expecting! This was not in the plan! "HQ, there's three— no, four — other vehicles that just popped up, did you sen—" Her words cut off once she's trapped between the other vehicles, and there's a loud gasp of shock as the final vehicle speeds past her. "Oh no," her pale blue eyes widen in complete and total shock for a few moments, but she snaps right back into reality.She has to. Or she'll probably end up dead somehow. "I need backup, NOW," is all she manages to call out - not that she needs to raise her voice, but she does - just as shots are fired toward /her/ vehicle too. This is probably very worrying to FBI HQ at the other end of the line.

Olivia doesn't say anything else - she's busy trying to drive and lower her head at the same time. It's not exactly working. But seeing as how she's surrounded by other vehicles, making it impossible to swerve away, she focuses on driving and prays inwardly that her bulletproof vest is on correctly.

Oh Bus, Oh Bus, Oh Bus… The one you were slated to drive was supposed to be bulletproof, but that's to federal and state budget cuts, something had to go. Prisoners, not being a very important commodity, were scratched from the luxury of bullet proof in favor of keeping more guards on the payroll. More guards, more guns… which really aren't doing very well against the unexpected assault.

Pop pop-pop-pop pop-pop

The sound of gunfire isn't exactly deafening, but the whistle of the wind through the bullet holes is. The two windows exposed to the bus have been rolled down to reveal two Asian men weilding AK-47s, and they're unloading as much ammo as they can at the bus.

The SUV at the side of the Federal agent is trying to take aim at her tires. The shell of her vehicle sustains the damage of the high impact the bullets make, punching through the exterior to the armor underneath. The windows are relatively unscathed, save for two black scuffs where the first bullets hit. It obviously didn't take long for her Asian gunmen to figure out that she wouldn't be as easy as the bus up ahead.

Ra-ta-ta-ta-tat!! Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tat!!

The bullets fire towards the SUVs, convinced that the enemies are there — that the target is this prison bus, even with the dead thug onboard. One of the guards at the back falls to the ground, a bullet having hit his jugular, his vest doing him no good. Another guard bends down to apply pressure to save his buddy, but with the blood gushing out, the Asian man has little hope of surviving, and the second guard's efforts will be in nothing more than vain.

"GET DOWN! I'll DRIVE!!!" Corbett run-ducks towards the front of the bus, his body tensing underneath the pressure. "What the hell was I thinking," he murmurs to himself as he tosses the driver from the seat, choosing to take control of the wheel and the bus. He puts pedal to the metal, revving the large vehicle forward, attempting to lose the vehicles behind. He skids around a corner to the smell of burning rubber, and nearly tipping the bus on its side.


The body of the driver is thrown from the seat and it smacks into this and that and manages to not get shot somehow, since there is a torrential downpour of bullets! He ends up in the aisle, next to the dead body and just proceeds to roll his eyes. "… Not in my job description." Coughing a bit because he's trying to not come off as squeamish, the driver is turning to look this way and that way to make sure he's not in the way of any crazy gunfire.

Suddenly, his eyes go a bit wider and he mouths 'Olivia' to himself, before stepping back up into a standing position and peering out the back towards the SUVs that are still back there. Except, well, they all look the same and his peering isn't really working out to his advantage in finding the one he's looking for. "Okay! Who has an extra gun?!"

"What a mess. I hate messes," Olivia mutters under her breath, slowly lifting her head a little more to see that her windows have not shattered. Phew. At least someone cares enough about blonde agents to give them the bulletproof vehicles. Watching the vehicles ahead out the corner of her eye, she suddenly and sharply whirls her wheel to the right, swerving her vehicle off the road and onto the desert strip stretching out on the side of the road. It's a bit of a bumpy ride, but that's what SUVs are for, right?

The FBI agent speeds up to drive along next to the bus, which shields her vehicle from the others - for now. "HQ?" she hisses out, to no response. "HQ? Crap, where did the signal go?" Stupid deserts. Stupid lack of reception. Fail. "Jump out or something!" she calls out, though ah - it's rather futile, since no one can hear her. Oops.

The crackle of static answers the agent with every plea. When she pulls out into the desert, so does the vehicle that was behind her. The ones in front and to the side, speed up to take care of what's left of the witnesses on the bus.

There's a jolt as the bus is hit from behind, whoever is driving the black SUV has no concern about the damage to his own vehicle and on a cursory inspection it's easy to see why. It has a heavy steel bumper welded to its front; perfect for mangling people, hitting cows, and ramming other vehicles sharing the road. From either side of the vehicle in behind are two more AK47's. The little bursts of flame that shoot out the ends come at the same time as the bangs and clanks of bullets punching through the exterior of the bus.

Another bullet flies, this time tot he front of the bus, hitting one Corbett Jones, causing him to slump over the steering wheel unconsciously. The weight of his body makes the horn honk annoyingly with a continuous reverb sound rolling again and again throughout the bus and beyond.

The weight of his feet remains on the pedals, pushing harder and harder, speeding the bus faster and faster. With the speed and the lack of control, it teeters on its right side — with no conscious driver, it's likely the thing will crash unless someone can get control in a rather tight situation.

"Gun! I said gun not bus! Dammit!"

The Driver has already started with the holding on for dear life and is now diving back towards the steering wheel and everything that's being slumped on it. "I feel so Sandra Bullock right now." is muttered from his lips as he pulls at the body of Corbett to move him out of the way and drop back down in he driver's seat.

With all the strength and epic climactic close up that he can muster, the driver pulls back the other way on the wheel, twisting and turning to make sure that the damn bus doesn't go completely into the crashing mode. Teeth are gritted. Sweat is dripping. This is not an easy task!

"Don't die, don't die," Olivia can't help but mumble repeatedly, her eyebrows lifting ever so hopefully as she watches the bus screech when rammed by one of the mysterious SUVs, then tilt precariously after Corbett is shot. "Crap. CRAP. Jack, where the hell ARE you?!" Again, static. There's a few choice expletives hissed under her breath. As a precaution, she whips out the Glock 23 holstered at her hip, holding it in her right hand and driving with her left. Unfortunately, her dominant hand makes it difficult to shoot at the same time - if only she were left handed!

Peering up into her rearview mirror to see the vehicle behind her, her brows furrow in frustration. With no alleys or side streets to dart into, it's going to be pretty much impossible to shake them off her tail.

The SUV on Olivia's tail creeps up in her rearview, getting ominously closer with each glance into the mirror. There's a hard jolt, another, and then another as the enemy vehicle rams her. The big steel bumper on the front of the tinted SUV gets locked onto the FBI vehicle and Olivia finds herself going faster than she was before, pushed along by the one hooked to the back end of her car.

The three vehicles on the bus have done a marvelous job of turning it into a machine seen only in movies. It was only a matter of time before one of the bullets hit the gas tank to send a spray of fuel onto the vehicle behind it. Swerving, the tail vehicle runs off the road between Olivia's vehicle and the bus, its velocity rising as it tries to catch up to the accordian door on the front end. The one on the other side does its own swerve, right into the side of the bus, only to be mimicked by the other vehicle directly behind it. With both SUV's ramming the out of control bus…

Blood and carnage. Other than the driver, that's all that remains on the bus. All of the guards lay dead amid the uncontrolled vehicle.

That smell of burnt rubber continues to fill the air and is now matched with the burning of the engine and the faint smell of death and dying thanks to the bloodied guards — that humid body decay scent already wafting in the air courtesy of the summer heat.

Even as the driver takes over from the dead man the wheels continue to teeter — even more as the vehicles ram its sides. It teeters more and more and more! Eventually rounding a corner and crashing along its right side, scarring not only the metal its made of but also the pavement on which it rubs — where it rubs on pavement that is. The drivers of one SUV are crushed in their ramming having chosen the wrong side for their assault!

Smoke flies from underneath, the combination of the heat, friction, and speed all playing their part to make a deadly combination. And if that weren't enough the smell of leaking gasoline can be detected, likely from the newly crushed SUV acting as a coffin for three gun-wielding thugs.

In the distance? The sound of sirens can be heard.

Seatbelts would've been a good idea earlier. But as the bus is turned into something that could only be seen in action adventure flicks, the driver on the inside just does whatever he can possibly do to not completely and utterly die. Covering himself up and clinging to the seats as the bus is taken for a vehicular football tackle.

As the driver lay on the floor, looking a bit worse for the wear in his own right… he narrows his eyes at the bodies that also litter what's left of the vehicle he was tasked at driving. His ears perk up at the sounds of sirens in the distance and a very small smirk plays at his lips, as he eyes the no longer breathing Corbett Jones.

"Now you've just pissed me off." Olivia glares into her rearview mirror - not that the annoyed expression on her face will actually /help/ with anything. Her head lulls forward once, then again as her vehicle is slammed several times from behind. "Please don't let me get fired for letting the SUV get ruined," she murmurs quickly with crossed fingers. With no need to have her feet on the pedal as the car behind her pushes hers forward, she also releases hold of the steering wheel.

Rather suddenly the driver's side door pops open, and the blonde agent jumps out like a movie stuntman before she and the FBI SUV are pushed to death-defying speeds. Rolling off to the side and into the sand (getting her dark pants and jacket rather dirty), she tumbles with her gun in her right hand and clutched closely to her chest. Gymnastics training may not be what one generally thinks as being handy, but being able to tuck and somersault while minimizing damage is certainly a convenient skill at the moment. This stunt has landed her ahead of the bus but not toooo far away. Close enough to that, when she has her bearings, she straightens up with her gun aimed in its direction.

The Fed vehicle and tinted SUV disappear with a line of dust only to stop on the horizon. Without Olivia's foot on the pedal, the FBI truck just became dead weight to the other and rendered it unmanageable. The two remaining SUV's skid along side it and pause just long enough to let the passengers of the stopped vehicle into their own. Within moments, they're gone.

The sound of sirens zeroes in. It's getting closer and closer. The familiar ambulance, police, and fire truck noises ringing through the air and closing in.

Inside what's left of the bus is not much. None of the bodies are moving. Well, except one. Corbett Jones. He kind of groans and winces, holding his side and just kind of pulls himself towards the nearest opening to try and crawl himself out of the bus. The sirens are getting closer and he's definitely going to be needing some medical attention… after a crash of that epic caliber. That's for sure.

Weird how bus accidents can change a person's hair color.

Watching as the mysterious SUVs drive off, Olivia scowls ever so briefly. Still, the sound of sirens brings a wash of relief over her face, shoulders losing a little bit of their tension. "Is anyone alive?" she calls out, quickly jogging toward the sight of the bus crashed on its side. Her gun remains drawn and ready - just in case. Seeing someone attempt to crawl on out of one of the openings, she offers an extended hand in assistance.

The ambulance pulls up with the shriek of brakes, aptly pushing the FBI agent out of the way to assist poor Corbett Jones who is whisked away in the ambulance at a glaringly fast pace. The gruff men will have questions, but not until after Jones is found to be in alright health.

There will be questions. Doctors. Inquiries.

But for now?

There's nothing more than smoke, blood, and sirens.