neverleftharlan | (no subject)

It had been a while since Raylan had gone far from Lexington for an assignment, the last time being his trip to California, he was fairly sure. Chicago was not his comfort zone, though the stigma of a southern accent did allow for most people to underestimate him. Just another Dixieland moron out of his league in the big city.

He stuck a leg out as his soon-to-be-informant staggered out of a bar apparently owned by a local mafia thug, Marcone, and the man - more of a boy in Raylan's opinion - crashed headlong to the ground and threw up on his way there.

Raylan grimaced. "Now, that just figures. Folks like you never can tell when they've had too much, and can't hold it even if they do."

He kicked the kid, lightly, to make sure he was conscious. The boy groaned and rolled over to show a recently broken nose and chunks of something Raylan didn't want to spend time identifying smeared over his face. Early twenties if that, with ragged brown hair that needed washing and scars from a teenage life of zits and fistfights, if Raylan was any judge.

"Evening," he said, and touched the brim of his hat. The kid stared at him. Raylan waited, then said, "This is where you say hello."

The kid tried to spit at him and Raylan brought the heel of his boot down between the boy's legs. The boy doubled up and rolled back onto his side with a squeaky wheeze.

"I do believe we'll try that again. Good evenin'. I'm Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens, and I would like to ask you a few questions."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Not sure," Raylan calls, before giving Lia a tired, impatient look. "No, it don't. And I'd feel better about trying to sort out if something's wrong if you weren't where you can get hurt easy. Stand back with Mr. Dresden."

He eases the door open, runs his hands under his chair and starts to check under the dash- and goes very still, like a raptor scenting prey. There's a wad of wires yanked loose and a little box he knows shouldn't be there, for all that he doesn't know a great deal about cars. "Lia, get back."

There's no room for argument in his tone. He slips his hand out from under the dash, stands up slowly, and turns to grab Lia's arm and get away from the car ASAP. Once they're back at the bar's entrance with the wizard, Raylan pulls out his phone and frowns at it. "Quick and dirty, not much of a hazard if you're expecting someone to try and blow you up."

Not that Raylan was, but. He glances at Harry before flipping his phone open. "Hardwired in, so presumably I'm not going to do any harm using this to call the bomb squad."

He dials nine-one-one, and the operator automatically responds Nine-one-one, what is your emergency? but Raylan frowns at Harry instead of answering. "Something ain't right about this."

Why set him on Dresden's trail if whoever-it-is just planned to kill Raylan himself once he was in Chicago? Why go through the trouble of breaking into the car without setting off any alarms to hardwire in an explosive that easy to find? He could have bumped it with his legs climbing in, even if he hadn't felt something off.

Hello? Nine-one-one, please state your location and the nature of your emergency.

He hangs up, strides back to the car, swings into the driver's seat and jams the key into the starter without closing the door. Deep breath. He twists the key and the car growls to life, and from under the dash there's a soft click and white fog hisses into the air from around his feet, pouring out the door into the street and flooding up and into the passenger and back seats.

Raylan climbs out again, his eyes watering, and slams the door. He waits to breathe again until he's a few feet from the car. He's feeling a bit light-headed just from the dose of whatever-it-was he just got hit with, but he's not on fire. That's a plus.

He braces himself against the next car over. "...I like it better when folks just want to kill me straight up. At least then their motivations are clear."

"Hey, considering that anything you can take, I can bounce back from faster? You can bite me." Lia doesn't scoot from Ray's side, wishing she knew what the hell she was looking for - until he finds it first. The only reason she doesn't resist getting yanked away is that Raylan's getting the hell away from it too so she'll take being led around like a show dog for that.

She arches an eyebrow up at him curiously. "Uh. Dude? Somebody stuck a bomb thing in your car. Pretty sure that's legitly in the column for 'ain't right' right there." Except where Raylan looks like a bird dog on point and some kind of something is making her want to put her ears back. It's only due to her being slightly caught up in the tetchiness of the situation that she doesn't grab him back from being a gigantic fucking dumbass.

Once the smoke starts, she's already there and hauling him back to the door and fuck what this Dresden might notice about her speed or strength because she's too damned busy snarling curses at Raylan. "Screw anybody else, I should fucking kill ya right now for being too goddamn stupid to live, you cowboy-booted, shit-kicking, pain in the fucking ass shit-for-brains!" Never mind how her eyes are slightly watering from the whiff of that junk, and she really hates the super sniff powers right about now.

Edited 2011-06-28 21:11 (UTC)

Harry recoils a step or two as the car starts smoking, points his staff toward the car and murmurs, "Ventas servitas." A breeze kicks up - not strong, by Harry's standards, but enough to disperse any smoke that made it out of the car before Givens slammed it shut. Whatever that is, they probably don't want to be breathing any more of it than they have to.

"Do me a favor and check the Beetle," he asks Mouse quietly. The dog snorts and trots down the street to do just that, while Harry closes the distance to the other two, tense and still half-expecting something to explode the second he relaxes.

"We shouldn't hang around here. Any of us." People know they can find Harry here - after all, that's how Givens tracked him here. Obviously someone wants Givens here, or they wouldn't have bothered luring him up here from Kentucky... and now Harry and Givens are in the same place, just standing on the street next to a smoking car. Harry can think of worse ideas than just staying here and waiting to see what happens, but not many.

Mouse barks once, and wags his tail when Harry glances over. His car's fine. Harry turns back to Raylan and Lia. "Want a ride?"

Their first stop is a hotel, where Raylan turns Lia loose and makes her promise to stay put - after promising her whatever she wants from the room service menu.

He drops back into the Blue Beetle beside Harry, scowling at Lia through the hotel's glass doors until the elevator slides closed on her smug expression. "I'm going to regret that. Girl eats more than a passel of hogs in a summer garden."

Raylan consults the list, glancing at Harry as he does. "That's hick-speak for a lot. Where do we start, here. The kid who pointed me your way says Marcone has a fancy club downtown - sounds like the kind of place they make you sit around waiting for hours to prove they're not impressed by a badge. Any of these others easier to get to?"