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View character profile for: Edward Hanton (The Spider)
View character profile for: Connor Lewis
View character profile for: Captain Phineas Steelheart
The Breakout - Part II
7th October - The Sprawl - Night
They reached the entrance of the compound, the men nervous and soaked in blood.
Everything was happening as planed.
His science officer, Dr. Crank, was handling the preparations within Ophelia. He was against the plan the whole time, but agreed at the end. He was now moving levers, preparing the crew with a lot of orders. They would have to move fast, the engines should start and fire in minutes after the order of departure.
While Tyberius and the others were taking down the guard around the inner walls, Phineas shot his mechanical arm embedded grappling hook and quickly climbed the main structure. He would enter from above.
But the first shot was fired. He looked down to see Tyberius staggering against the wall, holding his chest, blood everywhere. And soon, a rain of bullets started, hell was unleashed within the Sprawl.
The militia was finally alerted of the heist and was fighting back.
The captain moved even faster and reached the roof, already drawing his pistols.
Damn, things were bad now.
When the door opened, he was the first to fire. With the roof clean, he turned down and started to fire in the militia in the streets, reloading and firing, reloading and firing.
Another wave of soldiers came through the roof door, already shooting.
One shot crashed against his metallic arm, ricocheting.
He turned and hit the offender between the eyes, and two more that was behind him.
But the fourth soldier shot him in the shoulder, making him fall.
"Damn! My good shoulder! Why my good shoulder? My only real shoulder! The other is a fucking mechanic shoulder! GOSH!" - Phineas screamed while trying to get up.
He was already in a sitting position when was able to stretch his arm and shot the last soldier.
The pain was almost unbearable. He got up, anyway, and moved through the door.
A few of his men reached the roof as well.
"Cap... they got Tyberius, and others... our crew is dying..." - said one of the airdogs.
Phineas was doing his best to hide how much he was bad after that shot - "We must complete this... We must stand against this... We cannot simply endure the life in this shithole... we must PREVAIL!".
A new bunch of soldiers were down the stairs.
Phineas went through, fearless, walking slowly, shooting all of them with the aid of his crew.
He knew that who keeps the calm wins in a firefight. The soldiers were nervous, much of them were simply obeying to orders and didn't want to be there.
But this is how life works... Phineas believed that a doctor, in order to reach the diseased organ, had to cut through the good, healthy tissue that was covering it. This was the price to save Jebediah and the others and he was willing to pay.
One shot hit his left leg, above the knee, and he fell.
Gritting his teeth, holding the pain, he shot the officer, better trained among the others, in the knee as well, and soon after in his head.
"Captain, captain! Are you alright?" - the crew was scared.
"Yes, yes, damn it! Help me get back on my feet!"
They pulled him up. He could hear the war outside the compound. Time for the second strike.
"Jack... " - the captain started - "... time to blow the second carriage... go.". And the airdog ran back to the rooftop.
They were close to the containment cells. Phineas was limping, bleeding... he had to free them now, but he wasn't sure if he would survive the process.
Survival wasn't the objective, after all. He was thinking about his dream once again. Elesium. Cyrus. He tried, but achieved nothing. Maybe that was the map for survival, and he moved on without hearing the warnings.
"Go... Steelheart... you are so close now..." - the voice of the young girl, deep inside his mind. Was he dying, or going insane?
They reached the cells. And the surprise was big enough to make him forget the pain for a few seconds.
He was looking to a poor, sick man. He was looking to THE spider. A prisoner, here, among other equally poor faces.
"You... How... Da'fuck".