Wolves and Sheep

Silver Star - Forward First Class Car

Cautiously Beatrice stalked up the train car's narrow corridor, muscles tensed in preparation for an attack that never came, as she entered an empty first class berth nearly a quarter of the way down the hall. The crack of two pistol shots caused her to jump as she entered, a glance showing Sebastian taking cover at the far end, his pistol raised.

A grunt of pain from the Russian was followed by an enraged roar accompanied by a double blast from his Winchester directed at the young FBI agent. What cover that was found from the train car's flimsy door was shredded as both blasts caught Sebastian in the chest that sent him flailing back into the connector and out of sight. Nik's worried expression and downward glance the only indication of the agent's fate, before he leaned out and fired. His first shot clipped the infuriated thug in the shoulder, spinning him out of cover as the second shot took him square in the chest.

A head popped out of the berth's doorway, the boss from earlier, to look at his fallen comrade before bringing his pistol to bear on the thief. The gangster's shots embedded harmlessly into the door jamb as he kicked out the fallen thug's legs from the berth and slid the door shut.

---

Silver Star - Forward First Class Car - First Class Berth

Sliding the door shut Yakov engaged the lock, turning as he did with a face flushed in barely contained anger.

"Start the auction!" he growled, waving his pistol at Kevin.

"I ... I can't," the young, computer programmer whined, "The satellite is still not in range."

Snorting in frustration the Russian gangster grabbed the pistol from the hacker's waist, shoving it in his hand as he roughly grabbed him from his seat and pushed him towards the door. "Then you help," he roared, gesturing towards the door with his own gun.

---

Dozer's grin from Sebastian's flanking maneuver gave way to an empty, hollow feeling as the fellow agent took two shotgun blasts to the chest.

It had been a while since Dozer felt this, the shift when death decided to turn towards one of his brothers, and the Devil took lead in his endless Dance.

Didn't have much time to dwell, as the boss closed the door. Dozer noted the lack of more thugs pouring out to great them. Either they were hunkering down...

Or had run out of thugs.

All Dozer could do now was run toward the danger...

"Yeah. TWENTY-NINE rubber bullets, and an itchy trigger finger," Dozer growled, before pointing at Nik, "You. How good are you at picking a lock?"

"...Think you can use those without hitting the nerd?" Dozer asked Nik.

"No promises, no go. Boot lockpick?"

Silver Star - First Class Car

Nik approached, somewhat reluctantly having just watched the FBI agent he had briefly bonded with taking the train engine fall to the Russian's Winchester. All the more reason, he thought as he steeled his nerves, for them to take back the SEER program before the Russian mob had a chance to use it ... or sell it along to someone worse. As Dozer pointed at him, he pointed to his self as to say 'Who me?' before smirking, bringing his lockpicks out of his pocket with a shrug. He watched the exchange of ideas between Dozer and Beatrice without a word, shrugging and nodding in agreement.

---

"Hmm, door looks too sturdy for a kick," Dozer mumbled out loud.

And just using a shotgun risks hitting someone we don't mean to...

"Alright," Dozer whispered to Nik, "It'll be a matter of timing. Wait for my go, then pick the door quietly, step back and open it quickly. I'll breach and clear when you do."

---

Silver Star - First Class Car

Nik silently nodded his assent to Dozer's directions, cautiously kneeling in front of the door as he pulled his lockpicking kit from his jacket pocket and turned his head to wait for the large FBI agent's signal.

Taking a moment, Beatrice moved to the other side of the door and prepared to do her part once/if Nik was able to gain access.

Nodding at Dozer's signal the thief slowly began to work at the lock, a simple deadbolt that was more for the privacy of the First Class passengers than actual security. Nik paused, turning to look at Dozer with a slight smirk as the softest of clicks could be heard over the rumble of the train on the tracks. Putting his hand slowly on the door, he gave once last look to ensure his two companions were ready and seeing they were prepared slid the door aside and quickly backed away.

---

Entering a high ready stance, Dozer nodded to Nik. As the lock was being picked, Dozer's eye ever so briefly flicked over to Sebastian's body.

A chill ran through Dozer's nerves. His breathing slowed. A familiar anger began to creep in, his veins starting heat up. His fingers cricked silently as he flexed his grip.

Nik smirked at Dozer as the lock clicked. Shifting his stance slightly, Dozer nodded again.

Nik had barely backed away before the M4 poked in through the door.

The Russian boss was there. As was the HVT.

The rifle flicked towards the stunned boss.

CHAKCHACKCHAK.

"You wanted this," Dozer barked.

CHAKCHACKCHACK.

"SO TAKE ALL OF IT!!"

---

Silver Star - First Class Car

Clearly the Russian boss was not expecting the lock to be picked, perhaps expecting a breaching charge or shotgun, for as the door slid aside his posture seemed to indicate as much. Seeking some payback for his fallen agent, the suppressed sounds of Dozer's rifle filled the rooms cramped interior. The initial look of surprise melted from Yakov's face to be quickly replaced by concern as he spun out of the burly FBI agents line of fire, the rubber bullets clattering into the back corner of the berth.

Coming in on the heels of Dozer's attack, Bea lashed out in an attempt to grab his pistol, only to be pulled slightly off balance as the thug jerked the weapon free of her grasp and proceeded to pound away on her head with the end of the pistol grip. Vision blurring slightly she managed to break free of the brutish Russian boss's assault. A panicked yelp, followed by the discharge of a handgun, sent two bullets whizzing harmlessly by her still ringing head.

---

"Damnit!" Dozer cursed as the boss dodged his shots, and again when the obviously out of his depth nerd missed his shots.

Noting Beatrice's quick thinking in grabbing the laptop, Dozer shoved the boss back before he could even think of giving chase.

"Nik!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Stay out there! It's a Yosemite Sam convention in here!"

Twisting around the boss's attempts to throw off his aim, Dozer then fired two more bursts at the thug...

Silver Star - First Class Car

The Russian boss's frustrated and angry expression quickly changed to one of worry and concern as the young woman he had just battered with his pistol shook off the beating to grab the laptop and run. The consequences of losing the extremely valuable program the computer contained flashed through his mind as he made a grab for Bea. Dozer was there however, his immense frame keeping the Russian boss at bay as the woman made her escape. Growling in pain and frustration as a burst from the FBI agent's rifle struck him in the shoulder.

Enraged, he struck out with a foot ...

---

Silver Star - First Class Car

Yakov's foot collided with Dozer's thigh, the Russian boss grunting from the effort as it felt and sounded like he had just kicked the trunk of a tree. The force was enough that the FBI agent's legs swept out from under him, sending him collapsing to the floor. The Russian boss's gaze flashed towards Nik, pistol coming up as he squeezed off a round. The bullet nicked the thief's shoulder, tearing his well tailored coat. "Idēət," Yakov screamed at a very nervy looking Kevin, "Take care of this." He emphasized his statement by pointing his gun towards Dozer, as he stepped into the hall.

The hacker's worried gaze dropped to the agent sprawled on the floor only to be replaced by a look of resolve as he brought his handgun to bear. The resolve wavered at the sight of Dozer, though while still on the ground, pointing his M4 at him.

Yakov was forced to stop, a grinning Nik reaching up to manipulate something on his jacket before placing a well aimed thrust kick into the Russian boss's stomach.

---

Dozer grunted from the kick, the timing of it catching him off footing. Taking a second to get reoriented, he barely noticed the thug pointing at him before stepping beyond. He did see the HVT going to shoot.

Out of pure reflex, Dozer brought his rifle up.

Some people might find the Mexican standoff unrealistic. In the snap-judgement of a gunfight, surely someone would just shoot?
They often underestimate twitch reactions to danger. Under the right conditions, the sudden experience of looking down a gun barrel can make you... hesitate.

Then you look into the eyes of the person you're trying to shoot.

Dozer'd seen similar expressions before. Someone who'd only really seen violence through a screen, only to be exposed to it for real. He'd supposed that he himself had looked like that once, when he was a fresh-as-grass recruit.

"Heh," Dozer grunted, a tired half-smile tugging briefly.

"It. Doesn't. Matter. Who gets it. That's what you said," Dozer tilted his head, "So tell me, jackass. Do you think it mattered to all those people cooling on the floor right now? Think it'll matter to their families? What about all the ones tomorrow? Or the day after? Or the day after?

"And how many of those are people that actually deserve it? Do you even care?

"Because I will tell you right now: IT. FUCKING. MATTERS. To me. To my brothers, my sisters. We all took an oath, to fight, for the people, and for their future. I chose to put myself here, for all those people stuffed into those cars like cattle.

"And right now, one of my brothers is GONE, trying to stop this.

"HE. FUCKING. MATTERED.

"You think you will just push a button and walk away from this? You pull that trigger, and every person who has ever fought by my side, who I PROUDLY call family, will hunt you down to the very pits of hell, to END YOU.

"But, you still have a chance."

Dozer tilted his head over in Sebastian's direction.

"Sebastian Milford died because these thugs refuse to stop fighting. You, though, don't strike me as someone who wants to be in the thick of a shootout. You can claim you were being forced to hold that gun. You can just put it down, and come in quietly. I can't guarantee that they will go completely easy on you, but it'll be a hell of a lot more likely if you don't gun down an agent personally.

"So tell me, Kevin. Right here. Right Now.

What currently matters to you?"