|Pimped Out and Nothing to Show for it
Author: Naniris PM
Rios and Salem have a conversation about weaponry... while killing people.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - E. Salem & T. Rios - Words: 807 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 19 - Follows: 1 - Published: 09-27-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5404405
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A muted curse barely escaped the barrages of gunfire that rained against Salem's rapidly decaying cover. His primary gun had jammed for the third time since the gunfight started, leaving him with an empty sniper rifle and a quickly depleting handgun.
Laughs rang loud and clear as Rios tumbled to Salem's position and handed him his own secondary weapon, a submachine gun. "Told you! You had to switch that piece of crap for something better. Even a reliable AK-47 would have been better." Tyse shot a terrorist's head, dead on with the Salem's pistol, as he glanced around the corner.
Underneath the cool metallic mask, Salem grimaced as Tyson's steadier hand made good use of the gun's power and precision. Whatever, he was more of a spray-and-pray man himself. "What's your problem, brah!? That gun cost me an extra 10K to get all nice. It's fucking gold!" He shot out the legs of a man smart enough to keep his head down and not enough to get full to-the-ground cover.
Rios lobbed a grenade against a wall that bounced it off into a stubborn group, delaying it enough that it blew up with no time for them to run. "That's the problem. Gold's a soft metal. You bash one guy's face in or overheat the barrel and it'll get all bent out of shape, idiot." Two terrorists that manage to survive were quickly dispatched a single shot each.
Salem stood fully up and ran forward to the next set of cover before anyone else showed up. "Well, fuck you, its gold plated. I'm not an idiot. You just don't get it. It's about reputation. It's about an image." He picked up bullets along the way, leaving behind any he couldn't use and letting Tyse pick up the ones he could.
"It's about putting a giant neon sign on your face that a diamond encrusted piece of junk is a bullet away from their pockets." Tyse chuckled as he noticed that Elliot had missed a grenade behind a crate and quickly scooped it up. "They don't even have to kill you, the vibrations knock those diamonds out. The way you shot, it takes no time."
Even with no bullets the M107 was useful as he peered into enemy ranks. "Who are you? My momma? You just mad it ain't yours. Three guys at two, two at one, six at eleven, no heavies." He switched back to the submachine gun and crouched low towards the right.
Rios rolled his eyes at Salem taking the side with less enemies, not thinking that them being separated meant that they could more easily flank him and get him in a crossfire. He made a mental note to keep a path clear for when he inevitably heard 'Tyse, I'm down' for the umpteenth time. "Yeah, I hate having money in the bank, a good credit score, not to mention actual camouflage in dark spaces."
Salem hissed at the jab as he took aim, really wishing he had bullets for his prized sniper rifle. He had clean shots across the board. "That was one time…" Instead he steadied the submachine gun knowing it would take 10 times longer to kill his target giving everyone else a chance to duck.
"Four, but who's counting?" Rios chose his cover well, a blockade of vehicles tunneling the path into a single line that he could cover well. Nobody was going to sneak up on him there.
Counting down with his fingers, Salem veered the conversation towards less embarrassing memories. "Ha, you're a funny man" As the last finger curled down, he and Rios took aim and started to simultaneously mow down the men as they scrambled in confusion.
Their targets were down to three a piece, hunkered down and well-armed. "Nah, you are. All of our weapon dealers laugh their asses off every time you make a re-order of the same guns that crapped out on you." He signaled to Salem with a grenade, Tyse was gonna help a brother out and flush his enemies out of their cover.
Ducking down to reload his weapon, he signaled the okay and prepared to hit some rapidly moving hostiles. "Yeah, I've seen you look at all the pimped out stuff. Don't act all innocent." Two down and one to go on his side. Oh, wait. Rios picked him off.
All of the targets left were grouped in a nice little corner. Rios stood up and ran at their position, the mission all but over. "I make smart investments…" Rios uncovered his primary weapon, gleaming silver-like in the low light, a fully pimped out M314. "…in platinum."