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Bush burst into laughter, sprayed blood onto the dashboard, and promptly stopped with a "aw, s**t." She shook her head. "This is pretty bad, guys, I've got lung damage and I'm bleeding internally. Darned level one chest just doesn't cut it," she grunted. "I'm high on freakin' adrenaline and with level one heart it's not going to stay good for long. Someone's gotta take over." Alyx shook her head; one of her hands was incapable of gripping.

They were, however, only half a mile from the checkpoint that was their exit point from the city.

This was apparently their extraction plan.

((Hmm, and the only player who isn't actually hurt isn't actually here. PMing time!))

((The only uninjured person to move Bush.))

Bush hit the cruise control and nodded, and with Cado's help she worked herself back while Marcus squeezed past the boatman into the driver's seat. The boatman swore vaguely at his shoulder, and the motley crew turned a long corner onto a highway. There was something like a toll booth further down, and there was a problem; it was manned by police, who were all armed with submachineguns of some variety - Uzis, MP5s, one of them even had a P-90. It looked like they were going to have to blaze their way through and shake a few officers off their tail.

Alyx shook her head. Her eyes were clearing up; she appeared to be thinking more clearly. "No, we can't blast through this one with grenades alone. They're carrying what we need - automatics. We've gotta play this one long enough to get some attention and take some weapons, and then we start fighting them." Her plan had merit, but she wasn't thinking clearly enough to pull together details, like how they would avoid getting shot to pieces by whoever didn't come close to them. Or how to deal with the vehicle-mounted officers. Perhaps that was what the grenades would be for.

They didn't have long to think.

"Works for me," Cado said, hurriedly re-attaching his sleeves. He crossed his arms, covering the bullet holes.

Alyx reached into her jacket's pocket and produced a glove to cover her hand with. The glove soon became a little red, but surprisingly, little enough that she could get away with it. Another benefit of being an agent - bleeding cut off quickly. The boatman glanced around, and at Bush; neither of them could really effectively conceal their wounds, so they both unbuckled and clambered into the back seat, pulled down the back seats, and rolled into the trunk with their rifles. Gabriel, meanwhile, needed to conceal his rifle, and so did Amelie.

Marcus pulled the car up to the line. There were three other cars in front of them.

Shae tapped his fingers on the wheel in impatience. "Gabe, Amelie, get your rifles in the back with Boatman and the Agent." They pulled forward a bit. Two cars ahead of them now.