Though he didn't know it at the moment, NE1 and his lieutenant thought surprisingly alike at times, for she had taken up residence atop a parking structure and so had he. The structure he was on was a bit larger than the one his lieutenant had taken, the thin man sitting atop Sheila's hood with his hands clutching his binoculars, watching the battle below unfold. His helmet rested beside him, wearing his full battle armor, made himself aside from the Kevlar vest...he prided himself on his inventions sometimes. His armor extending up to nearly beneath his eyes did get in his way sometimes, yet it was a blessing if someone was taking potshots at his neck. His goggles rested upon his forehead at the moment, his cherry red devil lock slicked back upon his head, the point over his right ear. He knew he looked odd with the sides of his head shaved and only hair on the top of his head, but that was how he liked it.
Laying down his binoculars for the moment, he picks up a rag and Thumper, starting to polish the weapon, the stock of the grenade launcher cherry red just like his hair. Had he been paying attention, he could have likely spotted his lieutenant, yet he wasn't worried so much about who was around as what was going down. It was fun to watch these small fry trying to take down the big boys. One of the perks of being one of the top clans in the city was that he didn't have to fight all the time. True, he was attacked if spotted, but that was nothing when he had a car that could outrun most everything else and a gun worthy of his time. All he had to do was get back to the Outlaw base if ever he was in serious trouble...with their access to the experimental weapons, they'd outfitted their base to be mostly impenetrable to a small force on the ground, going further to outfit it with a missile intercept system and anti-air cannons. He was a paranoid man when it came to attacks by air...though they were underground, a single bunkerbuster would cut through to the core. He wanted nothing to get through the web of air defense they had erected. There was no skill to it, but he had made the ground defense a bit easier to penetrate just to make things fun.
Tilting the gun up, looking down the wide barrel to ensure that it was clear, he closed the break-action launcher once more, leaving it empty for now. He could reload it quickly if need be, though he doubted he would have to. Grabbing his helmet and binoculars off the hood, he strides to the driver's side door, tossing the stuff into the missing window to land in the passenger seat. He places his hands on the top of the car, hopping up and sliding his legs through the window, for the door didn't open anymore. He'd seen to that when he'd armored Sheila up. He gave the wheel an affectionate stroke, turning his head to look at the stockpile of grenades in the back seat, sorted into containers by type. He had flechette bombs, shells that held flechettes that turned his grenade launcher into something of a shotgun, high explosives, incendiary...even a few he didn't know what they did yet. Experimental weapons were the best.
Turning the key lovingly, it took a few tries to get Sheila to start, but when she did...mmm, he loved that rumble. He could also hear the start of an old band's hit, one of the CDs that had come with the car...still in mint condition, as the car had been. Blue Oyster Cult's Don't Fear The Reaper was one of his favorites out of the bunch he'd gotten, his hand moving down to the shifter to put the beast in reverse. It took a moment to get it, as he wasn't paying attention to where he was shifting, finally backing the beast up and pointing it down the exit spiral that would take him all the way to the ground.
"Ehehe, needs more cowbell."
He grins just a bit as he pulls down his goggles, his helmet being tapped down on his skull, held in place under his chin with a strap. Shifting down to first, he grins, letting the beast roar as he puts his foot down just once before lifting his foot off the clutch. He couldn't exactly speed down the ramp, but he could scrape the sides without fear with the armor plating, doing just that as he takes Sheila down towards the ground five levels below. Anyone near actually paying attention would be able to hear the sound like rolling thunder as he hits the lowest level, dropping his foot to the floor and heading for the gate at the opposite end of the building.
Even as the small plow on the front of the car smashes the gate, he snatches the wheel, the great beast of a car screeching tires as it starts to slide, the rear coming around a bit more than the front. He holds tight to the wheel with one hand as he pulls Thumper into his lap, breaking it open with his single hand as the other fights the car for control. Reaching back without looking, he felt for the three spikes on the bin with high explosives, having placed spikes on each bin in increasing numbers to tell what was what without looking. His eyes narrow behind his goggles, pulling the shell into his lap after grabbing it so that he could shift up, then again after a few moments. Sheila was a beast and her driver was a freak, not headed for the battle, yet running parallel to it. He was headed home for now so that he could bring in the gang...he hadn't brought a radio and he didn't know what he'd run into on the way, preparing Thumper for trouble as he pulls more and more shells to drop into the passenger seat.
"Let's rock, bitches."
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