>CHARLESTON, WV >CAMC MEMORIAL HOSPITAL >2019.JUL.6 >0700 Donnelley scanned the garbage-strewn, street lamp lit parking lot with tired and practiced eyes. As his gaze swept the cracked cement and faded parking lines he wondered if there was a single place in Charleston that didn’t look like shit. He snapped his head to the right after he heard what sounded like whispering, only to find that it was a grocery bag gliding across the parking lot. “I wonder if they have a designated area I’m supposed to smoke.” He wondered aloud, spotting none apparent, “Fuck it, I’ll just tell them I don’t speak English or some shit.” He shoved a cigarette between his lips and lit up, relishing the moment he and the stick of tobacco were sharing like the two hours had been twenty years apart. Then again, twenty years apart and he’d probably have kicked the habit by then. And then [i]again[/i], he had to wonder if his line of work had scheduled him in for twenty years from now. He shook his head, looking at the physical therapy packet he had folded in half in his hand. “Remember to do these stretches daily. You could do it while watching TV or something, whenever you’re bored. Set reminders. Oh, and use this cane if you’re having trouble with balance or uneven surfaces.” The doctor’s words came back to him as if it was his epitaph and he was half-listening from his coffin. He took a long pull from his flask, knowing the smell of cigarettes would mask the alcohol. The day he needed a cane was the day he ran to the arms of a freight train. “Fuckin’…” He tossed the cane away and turned to face the automatic doors to the hospital’s emergency room, “What the fuck’s takin’ y’all so goddamn long…” There was a flash of wild red curls in the glass windows of the automatic doors before they quietly slid open and Ava walked out with Dave by her side, now wearing a shoulder sling for his injured arm. Ava had one arm wrapped around her stomach and a small plastic bag clutched in her hand. She was still dressed in her pale orange shirt, grey sweatpants and a pair of brown UGGs, with one pant leg bunched up around the top of one boot. She glanced around the entrance for a moment before her eyes landed on Donnelley. She nudged Dave to get his attention, then nodded her head in Donnelley’s direction. Dave waved cheerfully at Donnelley. In his open flannel shirt and bandages he looked for all the world like a lumberjack who had been attacked by rogue paramedics. His wounded left arm was in a sling, bandages wrapped around the upper arm to protect the injury. More bandages were wrapped around the days-old gash on his forearm, which they had cleaned thoroughly and stitched closed, chastising him for not coming in sooner. Beneath the open shirt his beater was gone, his chest and ribs wrapped tightly. "Medium concussion, cracked sternum, three cracked ribs, a through-and-through to the shoulder, an' eleven stitches in my forearm," he said proudly. He blew on the fingernails of his right hand and mimed polishing them on his chest bandage. "Got the nurse's number, too." “Yeah, they do that in case you’ve fallen and can’t get up.” Donnelley’s frown turned to a smirk, but it took a second, “‘Less Doctor Francis Chung had the hots for me too.” “How’re you, Heracles?” He put his smirk and blue eyes on Ava, speaking through a cloud of tobacco-sweet smoke. Ava was staring up at Dave, shaking her head with mild, but fond, exasperation. She turned her eyes up to Donnelley, the blue irises bright and clear of the cloud of opiates. “I’m fine, the bullet stopped in my abdominal wall and didn’t damage any of my organs.” She answered with a small shrug, her expression a little embarrassed as she glanced down. “My injury is actually a lot less severe than Dave’s. They didn’t even bother to remove the slug and said I could take Advil for the pain.” She said while lifting the back in her hand for emphasis. She looked back up at Dave with a frown. “I can’t believe you were carrying me around with a cracked sternum and ribs.” Dave shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin and rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I thought you were hurt pretty bad, and then you were stoned as shit, too… Besides, you're pretty tiny, so it wasn't no trouble." He patted her gently on the shoulder and looked over at Donnelley. "How's your leg? You gonna keep it, or we gotta make you a pirate peg?" “Oh, you’d be my cabin boy, son.” Donnelley chuckled, turning for the car and beginning his limp that he tried making out wasn’t as bad as it was, “Let’s get underway for some nuggets, my faithful crew. Y’all earned it.” Ava watched Donnelley walk with a concerned frown and then glanced around the parking lot to make sure they weren’t being watched. She saw a cane a few yards away and glanced back at Donnelley and then up to Dave before following after their team lead. “Maybe, I should drive?” Ava suggested, looking between the two men. “It’s the least I could do after everything you both have done for me.” Especially after she had been pretty useless the past few hours. "Yeah, sure." Dave dug out the keys and offered them to her. "I can do with a nap in the back seat." As they approached the car he removed his sling, moving his left arm with a wince. "Damn thing. Ain't like the joint is damaged. Don't wanna get caught in a gunfight with one damn arm." Ava accepted the keys and frowned worriedly as he took off the sling. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it and just shook her head, unlocking the car for them. Donnelley heard the locks disengage and began the process of getting himself into the Suburban. He grunted himself into the seat, pulling himself up with the oh-shit handle and waiting patiently in the passenger seat, rubbing his aching thigh. As the other two got into the Suburban he turned his head, “Nearest McDonalds, or one on the way to the Goldstar?” "Nearest," Dave said firmly as he boarded the vehicle. "I could eat a fuckin' bear, and not bother to kill it first." “Yeah I’m hungry too.” Ava agreed as she went through the process of adjusting the driver’s seat for her height. “We should get food for the other’s too.” She suggested, glancing over to Donnelley. “Unless they already ate? Can either of you call the others to see if they want anything?” “We’ll just buy shit.” Donnelley chuckled, sucking in a bit more smoke and letting it out further with his chuckling words, “If they don’t eat it, we will.” [hr] The nearest McDonalds turned out to be only ten minutes away and the Suburban, peppered with bullet holes as it was, garnered a fair bit of attention from bystanders standing in the parking lot. Sleepy contractors and businessmen gawked and stared at the rumbling SUV and Donnelley’s kissy faces as they rolled slowly into the drive thru. “Wait up a sec.” Donnelley held his hand up at the first menu, sans speaker, the ones stoners the world over stopped at for a half hour to ruminate on the great and weighty decisions to be made. Donnelley would know, “I have a need. And the only cure is a goddamn McFlurry. One o’ them stroopwafel ones. What y’all wantin’?” “Coffee,” Ava answered right away, eyeing the ‘McCafe’ menu intensely. “And orange juice and whatever has the most protein in it. I’ll have three of those.” "Forty goddamn nuggets and a McFlurry," Dave said, sitting up from where he'd been sprawled in the backseat. "No shit forty of 'em. No fries. Just nuggets." Donnelley nodded as if those were the truest wisdom spoken, “Good man.” Ava smiled slightly, looking at Dave through the rearview mirror. “Screw it, I’ll get a McFlurry and some nuggets too, along with two McGriddles.” “Oh, fuckin’ McGriddles, yes.” Donnelley murmured, “Let’s pull up.” The SUV lurched forward to the speaker and it crackled to life as Ava rolled down the window, “Welcome to McDonalds, can I take your order?” Donnelley leaned forward and spoke up, voice raised enough for the attendant to hear through his shitty mic, “I want a hundred chicken nuggets, a large coffee, three McFlurries, one stroopwafel, the other two…” Donnelley looked at Ava and then Dave as they chimed in with their answers, “And ten McGriddles.” The speaker was silent. Donnelley looked to Dave and then Ava before the speaker crackled to life again, “We’re only doing breakfast items and our ice cream machine is down for maintenance, sir.” Donnelley frowned. That would simply [i]not do.[/i] “Son, I swear on my Ma’s grave and sweet little baby Jesus, I will pay you double under the counter if you fry me up some fuckin’ nuggets.” Again, the speaker only stared back at them in silence. Donnelley quirked a brow at Ava and then Dave, “You think he’s gonna do it?” He whispered to them. "I think if we go on there flashin' badges an' bullet wounds he'll let us make our own goddamn nuggets," Dave said, fire in his eyes. "Shit, I'll pitch money, we can triple the bribe." Ava grinned at the two men and started laughing, wincing as it sent dull throbbing pain through her lower torso, but it didn’t stop her. “You both are crazy.” She laughed, leaning back in her seat with a grin and a shake of her head. “Alright,” the speaker crackled, “Just, um, just don’t tell my manager, okay?” “Son, I look like a snitch?” Donnelley narrowed his eyes. “I don’t even know what you look like.” “You will if you don’t come through for me, partner.” Donnelley spoke. He nodded further down the drive thru, “Take us over. Dave, you got your cash? How much you puttin’ in, Ava?” Donnelley gathered the bribe money with a devilish little grin on his lips. If it was one thing he learned from the Northern Alliance in Afghanistan it was that people were willing to do dumb shit if the payout was enough. And sometimes, it worked out. From Mujahideen to McDonalds, the wisdom rang true, “Here, take it, hurry.” Donnelley hissed in a hushed tone to his scrawny teenage co-conspirator leaning out the drive thru window. “Thank you so much, man, really!” He shook his head, eyes wide at the assortment of ones, tens, and a hell of a lot of pocket change. Donnelley touched a finger to his lips, “Don’t thank me, partner. Thank those taxes your ma and pa pay.” “Just pull through and wait in the reserve stall, I’ll be out in a few.” The attendant swallowed, looking around and then deciding to just stuff the heavy wad of cash in his pockets. He smiled a toothy thing set in his pimply face, “Thanks again.” Dave grinned, rubbing his hands together with something akin to childish glee "Hell yes," he said. "Gettin' our nuggets!" He patted the back of Donnelley's seat. "Gotta admit, it's hard to be upset about bribery an' government corruption when it's puttin' food in my belly." Ava chuckled again as she pulled through the drive thru lane and parked the SUV where the employee had said. “It’s definitely different than how we worked in my old department.” She said as she turned the engine off but left the keys in the ignition. “Shame about the McFlurries, but we can probably find a Dairy Queen.” [hr] With James McMurtry’s Choctaw Bingo on the radio from Donnelley’s phone it was hard not to prolong the sense of great victory. Donnelley busied himself with a cigarette and nodding along with the beat before he turned to his two partners in crime, “I wonder if he got caught.” He clucked his tongue, “None of that was proper illegal, right?” "Who cares?" Dave said around a mouthful of chicken nugget. "I've done plenty of illegal shit. Long as it's a victimless crime, government ain't got no business outlawin' it in the first place. Shit, I only got a carry permit an' a driver's license cuz Kaliah didn't like Mal drivin' around with me without 'em." Donnelley chuckled, nodding along a bit more enthusiastically. He turned to look at Dave as he flicked his cigarette out the window and shoved a nugget in his mouth, “I like you, partner.” He turned back to face the front and poked Ava in the arm, “What about you? Got any rebellious streak under your belt?” Ava stopped sipping on her iced latte at the question and set it down in the cupholder with a thoughtful frown. “Uuuuh.” She scratched her head as she wracked her brain, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her as she drove. “I...don’t think so?” She answered slowly, knitting her eyebrows together. “I like cycling and I know that annoys people that they have to share the road with me?” She glanced at Donnelley next to her. “Does that count?” "Aw, shit, she's an outlaw biker," Dave beamed at her in the rearview mirror. "Never woulda guessed you for a Hell's Angel, sugar." “Goddamn,” Donnelley chuckled, “A real as real One-Percenter.” Ava blushed and shook her head. “I meant bicycling.” She corrected them quietly. Dave crammed another nugget into his mouth. After the night they'd had the food was the most glorious thing in his life. "Hey, so what's the plan now? We gonna go find this Jay and fuck up his operation? See if they're summoning demons or some shit?" Donnelley sighed, though a small smirk remained through the sobering reminder of the operation, “Well, we regroup. Plan out our next steps. I wanna hit these fuckers hard and fast.” Donnelley nodded, chomping down another nugget, “Ava can use her drones to find those mines and that old ass shed they said them Russkies were usin’.” “Hey, your old team, BLACKBEARD. They ever get eyes on those mines?” Donnelley quirked a brow. “Wait, what?” Ava asked, straightening in her seat and looking at Donnelley then Dave in the review mirror. “Who’s Jay? And there are Russians in an old shed?” She asked, sounding and looking completely loss as to what they were talking about. “Um,” Donnelley looked back at Dave, realizing what happened hours ago was withheld from Ava thus far. Not that he wanted to talk about it much past the good intelligence they got from it, “Jay is working with the Russians, who are working in them mountains, I guess.” “One question remains, is it mob or are these Russian Intelligence guys over here? Ones illegal, and the other…” Donnelley shook his head, muttering, “One’s a real fuckin’ problem.” "We never got to the mines," Dave said. "Me and Clif were on our way there when that thing… Well. You saw what it did." He fought back a shudder. Thundering footsteps and a bovine roar echoed briefly in his head before he continued. "Anyway, we need bigger guns if we're gonna take that thing, and if there's damn Russian spies involved we're probably gonna need more guys. You got another Working Group in the area?" Ava continued to frown, understanding a little better about what they were talking about but not sure [i]how[/i] they came about this information. If it was important though, they surely would have told her, right? “I’ve got two drones,” She began, willing to move past that omission of information. “One is an aerial drone and the other is a terrain drone, so I can give us a birds eye view and we can send the terrain one down into the mines if it can fit.” “Sounds like a plan.” Donnelley nodded, looking out the window to those heartbroken hills framing the sunrise, remembering that big beast, the firefight, and wondering just what secrets were weaving themselves in those mines, as he sucked in a spoonful of stroopwafel McFlurry. “Fuck, this shit’s so good…”