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| - Ah, you gotta love being a former Secretary General. Months after stepping down, and more months after the new SecGen stepped up there came an invatation to the now EDC Captain that his presence was requested at a reception featuring several former Secretary Generals as well as current heads of state from other foreign countries. Gotta love military transport, bringing him in on the red eye day OF the event. Oh well, he still has a few hours to collect himself and before squeezing into his black and white monkey suit. Taking the time to stretch out on the bed, he kicks his shoes off as well as most of his travel garments. Down to his jeans, socks, and undershirt he just finished enjoying a drink and is relaxing on the bed, trying to doze off for a couple of hours. Unbeknownst to Spike, however, something is going horribly wrong down in the hotel lobby. As the other guests chatter and exchange pleasantries, a mysterious new guest arrives--Compton Xabat! To disguise his identity, he is wearing a fake beard and mustache, and a wig. He looks well-dressed, too, in a black business suit and red tie. Come to think of it, he looks suspiciously similar to Alan Rickman right now. Trailing behind him is a team of Euro-trash thugs in a variety of leather and polyester jackets. They all look extremely vicious. A security guard holds up a hand to stop Xabat, exclaiming, "Hold on, you can't come in here! Where's your pass? Xabat smirks, reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a 9mm pistol. "Right here." KABLAM! The guard falls over with a hole in his head, and the guests scream in terror as the thugs assault the building, quickly subduing the other guards! Spike Witwicky is in his room. Drink finished. Lights low. He'd read about these relaxation techniques before, and hoped he was right. He'd had a scotch and soda. That is, he poured 1/2 a glass of scotch and set it in front of a a bottle of soda before drinking it. Ahhh, he'll be ready to hobnob soon enough. Maybe a slight nap... Compton Xabat points to his thugs, then to the frightened guests. "Gather them all up." Following his orders, all the guests in the room are forced into a small group. Many of them shake in terror, unsure of their fate. "You won't get away with this!" a well-dressed elderly man cries defiantly. "Why not?" Xabat sneers. "Your silent alarms have been disabled. I cut the lines." This causes one of the guards to stare down at the ground, grumbling. "Oh, and the local cell phone towers? Hacked." One of the other guests shakes his head as he folds up his cell phone that he had been using to try and make discreet attempt to call the police--unsuccessfully. "You're pretty much in the Dark Ages right now. I've researched this place pretty well for this moment. But I'm not interested in any of you. Oh no. I want one man." His shoes clack against the waxed floor as he stalks in a circle around the hostages, then he suddenly turns and screams at them, "WHERE'S SPIKE!!?" ..he's in his room, WASHING HIS TIGHTS! Well, not really. Not really able to sleep, but relaxed enough to be able to go through the motions later on, he lazily reads a magazine in his room. Unfortunately for Spike, he doesn't know what's going downstairs and thus can't prepare himself. "He's... he's on the sixth floor! Room 612! Please don't hurt me," sputters the receptionist, who earns glares from the other hostages for her cowardice. "Very good. Max, Bruno. Take that woman--" He points at the receptionist. "--and have her knock on his door. My dear, you'll be asking him if he wants room service, do you understand?" The woman nods quickly. "Bring Spike down here. Alive. I want to deal with him myself. The rest of us will stay right here, with our... friends. Yes?" Bruno and Max, two beefy guys from Austria, nod grimly, grabbing the recepticonist and hauling her into the elevator. Several minutes later, Spike gets a knock on his door. "R... room service?" Spike Witwicky blinks and sets down the copy of People magazine touting Blueshift as XO of the Sweeps with caption of "BOOOOOOOOOOOO!". He goes go to the door and looks through the eyehole. "I didn't order any room service, thanks. You must have the wrong room." he calls through the door. "I... sir... um, you really need room service...?" the receptionist squeeks. She looks cute from the viewpoint of the eyehole, but terrified. And she keeps looking to the left and right, as if something's there... Spike Witwicky hmms. He slowly unbolts the door, making sure to stand behind it. "Alright. Room service it is..please wheel it right in." if there's anyone in the left or the right, they'll soon recieve a nasty surprise. Patience..patience... The receptionist screams as she's suddenly grabbed by Max and slammed against the other side of the hallway. And Bruno kicks at the door the instant she's out of the way. The two of them then charge in, MP5's in hand... or that's the idea... Spike Witwicky follows the momentum of the kicked door. He then pushes hard off the wall and sends the door careening back into the doorframe. Hopefully, it catches one of the guys and does something nasty to an arm or an head leaving him only one to deal with one on one. Bruno grunts as the door bangs into his head, and the impact knocks him into Max, who is jolted backwards. Bruno collapses, and Max stares wide-eyed at the door for a moment, then he growls, "You stupid leetle man!" before he brings up his MP5 and fires a hail of bullets through the door. Meanwhile, Xabat paces nervously downstairs. He grumbles, "What the hell is taking so long..." Spike Witwicky jumps and summersaults behind the bed. He squats down in waiting with the alarm clock cord in his hands. Makeshift garrote anyone? Max kicks in the door, for real this time, and he sweeps the room with his MP5. He peers into the bathroom, then into the closet. No... not there or there... Finally, still staring into the closet, he reaches for his radio, and speaks into it, "Boss, Spike man in here, but he knock out Bruno. What you want us do?" "WHAT!?" Xabat roars into his own walkie. "Find him, you dolt! What are you doing?" Spike Witwicky gets up very very quietly, he's in sockfeet after all and quietly sneaks up behind Max. Waiting for him to finish speaking, before getting him around the neck with the alarm clock power cord. Max grunts, "Ok, boss," before clicking off his radio. Then the cord wraps around his neck. "Rrrrrgh!" he grunts, grabbing at the cord, and trying to throw Spike off of him, or bash him into the wall. He struggles for almost a minute before finally his strength fails and he goes limp. Spike Witwicky lets the man drop and sighs, taking great breaths of air. After composing himself, he goes through each mans pockets looking for extra ammo, and a radio. He slings each man's MP5 over each shoulder before sitting about using power cords from various bits from the room to hogtie each man, dead or not before carefully sneaking out of the room and listening to the radio chatter. Compton Xabat waits. And waits. And waits. He runs his hand through his wig, pacing around the hostages. "I... I need to pee," an ambassador's young daughter complains. "Please, can I go pee?" Xabat growls back at her, "NO! You can piss in your stockings you... ergh. Fine. Rico, take her to the women's bathroom. Watch her, but give the girl her space." Rico nods, dragging the girl off a bit roughly. With a frustrated sigh, Xabat asks aloud, "What is TAKING them so long?" He waits several more minutes. "Bruno, Max, what the hell are you doing?! RESPOND!" he screams into his radio. Spike Witwicky clears his throat, he uses his best impression of an Austrian accent, "Hear me now and believe me later but listen to us right now, we have the leetle girly man all trussed up like a crissmass turkey. I look at him and want to eat stuffing. Where do you vant us to take him?" he's not sure if Xabat will buy it but hell, it's worth a shot as he moves down the hall to the stairwell. Compton Xabat frowns. They sound a bit odd. Probably just the cheap-ass radios he's using. "Yes, yes, good. About time. Ah. Bring him down into the meeting room. It's down the hall from the lobby, off to the left. Glass door." Smirking, he walks down that way himself. "Heheh, don't wory everyone, this won't be but a moment." Upon reaching the meeting room, Xabat sits himself at the head of the table, preparing to meet Spike with a triumphant grin. Oh, vengeance will be so sweet. Spike Witwicky radios back, "Ja, we hear you now and believe you in a week." he says again murdering the Austrian dialect. He starts to slowly make his way down the stairwell and start to forumlate a plan in his head on how the hell he's gonna deal with any more assorted thugs. More to the point, why the HELL didn't he put on his shoes. He shakes his head, vowing to rectify the problem later..if there is one. And just as Spike rounds a corner on the stairwell, he encounters a rather tall man with long blonde hair. The thug stares almost unbelievingly at Spike for a moment, then he brings up his MP5 and is about to pull the trigger. He's real close--can Spike stop him in time? Compton Xabat ponders one-liners for when his enemy finally gets here. I'm going to "spike" you into the ground? Eh, that's not very good... Spike Witwicky shoots from the hip. He's not stealthy, he's acting on instinct. He raises up one of the MP5's and squeezes the trigger. God, were these things equipped with silencers? He didn't know! The man screams and goes down, firing his gun upwards into the stairwell. He slumps against a wall, and the radio in his jacket pocket squawks, "Ey, guys, you ok up der?" Sounds like another Euro-thug. "I heard da shooting. Who you shooting at?" Spike Witwicky decides to get a little cocky, and a little brash - he swings out in the door way and says "Me, asshole." before stroking the trigger again. Compton Xabat's grin vanishes. That voice... He grabs his radio and says, cautiously, "Who... is this?..." He taps the desk nervously, plotting his next move. He thought he had everything wrapped up neatly. What's going on? Spike Witwicky makes his way down into the reception area, and keeps the wall motioning for people to be quiet if they notice him. He radios back, "Well, it's not exactly the March of Dimes now is it, /comp/adre?" Compton Xabat steps out of the meeting room, shouting down into the lobby, "SPREAD OUT YOU FOOLS! Find him! Marcus, stay here with me!" Unaware that Spike can probably hear him already, Xabat growls into his radio, "Very funny. Spike, I'm guessing? Yes. Can't say I'm surprised. That's what I get for hiring out from Rent-a-Thug. Heh." He steps into the lobby, and the guests fall silent. Some of them glance towards Spike, and look surprised, but they don't say anything. "Now. I don't want to hurt any of these people, Spike. But you? You're going to answer for your crimes. So if you want to avoid anymore unpleasantness for these people, you'd better get your ass down here--FAST." Spike Witwicky keeps walking towards the glass door, careful to not be seen by anyone, but who knows if that'll keep up. Xabat's people are on the move. He radios back, "The question you gotta ask yourself Xabat, is where I'm at. Last time anyone of your faceless minions saw me, I was in my room. Who knows where I'm at now. For all you know I could be in the duct work watching you right now and you'd never know the difference." Compton Xabat frowns as he watches his minions fan out of the lobby. He replies to Spike, "Ooh, I'm real scared, Puta. If you had line of sight to me, you'd shoot me. Ha. Who do you think you're trying to fool?" As he awaits a response, he turns around and begins to stalk back towards the meeting room. Spike should've made his way in there by now, probably wondering where Xabat went. As for Xabat, he tries to keep Spike talking, hopefully so that his thugs can overhear him. "You know where I think you are? I think you're in a bathroom, crapping all over yourself in fear and hoping your Autobot friends come and save you. Well, it's not going to happen THIS TIME!" He says that last part a bit loudly just as he pushes open the glass door-- Spike Witwicky is pressed against the wall, the glass door no more than ten feet away. When the door opens, and Xabat emerges and Spike sees him, he squeezes off from one of the MP5's hes got slung, shouting, "I don't need an Autobot, Briar, or the EDC to Whip your ass, Compton!" You evade Spike Witwicky's grasp attack. Compton Xabat's head turns rapidly as Spike shouts him, and he dives into the room, just barely dodging the bullet. "What the hell?" Xabat shouts as he crouches behind an office chair. "How did you get in HERE!? God, I'm surrounded by total IDIOTS!" He reaches over the top of the chair with his pistol and blind-fires in the general direction of where he thinks Spike is at the moment. But his aim isn't too accurate--he's just trying to keep Spike busy. Spike Witwicky scooches back out of the way, firing in a sweep parttern into the meeting room. "How'd I get there, Xabat? I smelled shit, and followed the trail.. lo and behold." Compton Xabat duck-sprints across the room, keeping his head low as bullets spray around the room and the chairs are sent spinning by bullet impacts. "You're really pissing me off, you know that!?" Xabat shouts. He pops up over a chair to fire off a few shots, then ducks back down. "But that's ok... I got friends." He barks into his radio, "Everyone get back down here! Into the meeting room, NOW!" Popping back up again, Xabat snarls as he fires another shot before dropping down again. Uhoh, Spike's gonna have company... Compton Xabat succeeds in grasping Spike Witwicky, throwing him off-balance. Spike Witwicky gets winged in the left arm. Nothing vital wounded, but enough to leave some blood. He moves backward out of the room and puts his back against the nearest wall looking left and right as he looks down at his arm. "Damn." he mutters. Compton Xabat snarls, "Where are you going? Get back in here!" He fires his gun at the doorway a few times, as if expecting Spike to just walk into the bullets. Meanwhile, Marcus, the only thug on the ground floor at the moment, comes charging at Spike, screaming as he sprays machine gun fire indiscriminately at Spike. Spike Witwicky closes his eyes, because he's thinking this is IT! Mad charge goons firing away at him, all he can do is throw up both MP5s and squeeze the triggers and scream in defiance at the top of his lungs. "AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" it's not a cowardly scream, or a scream of pain. Just a scream of outright rage and defiance. Maybe he'll get filled full of bullets, maybe he won't. He just won't get taken out without a fight. Marcus clenches his teeth as he's ventilated by Spike's MP5, and tumbles forward as he perishes. WIth no other guards on the ground floor, the hostages see their opportunity to flee and do so, rushing right out the front door, screaming and wailing. Xabat begins to approach the meeting room door, gun leveled at it, sweat forming on his brow. He wants to chase after Spike, but he knows that he could waiting for him on the other side. Better to use expendable thugs than risk his own life! Spike Witwicky calls out, "Your boys are swiss cheese, Compton. You got nowhere to go. No one else needs to get hurt, just..just walk away Compton." Compton Xabat slides up next to the glass door. "I still outnumber you, Spike! The other men will be down here, soon. You can't kill them all. You're not that good." Slowly, he peers around the edge. "You're not that good... and besides... you're wounded. I can wait for you to bleed out! Or maybe put a few more holes in you!" Just then Rico and the girl decide to step out of the bathroom. Noting the presence of a heavily armed Spike, Rico grabs the girl, using her as a human shield as he aims his gun at Spike. Spike Witwicky rolls his eyes, "Xabat, you dipshit - I'm grazed. You can't hit the broadside of a barn in or out of an exo!" he takes a moment to fish a clip from Marcus' corpse and reload one gun, pocketing the second clip from his other MP5 and ditching it giving him one gun and a good bit of ammo. He finishes with that just as Rico emerges from the bathroom and takes the girl. "Let her go and I'll let you go, but if you by god so much as twitch, I will end you." for now, Xabat is long forgotten. "Screw you Yankee!" Rico yells, grinning like a big idiot. He aims his submachine gun for Spike's noggin, and begins to pull on the trigger... Rico suddenly falls over, a bullet hole in his head. The girl flees. Wha? "Sorry about that," Xabat says as he leans around the doorway, his gun smoking. "But I told them not to hurt the hostages. As I said. I only want to kill YOU. Which reminds me." He grits his teeth as fires off another salvo in Spike's direction. Spike Witwicky ducks and covers, doing the best to give himself something between him and the bullets. He doesn't say anything about Xabat's action but shouts to the girl "RUN! GO!" before jumping behind the receptionist desk and then popping up to pop caps at Xabat. He doesn't get grazed, but that doesn't mean he’s not wounded. His feet. Just in socks are now in socks and soaked in blood. Adrenalin will do that to a man. He looks down at his sliced to hell feet and groans. He slides back down out of sight and pulls off his now bloody and sweaty wifebeater. He tears it in two and wraps it around his stocking feet before popping up and firing off a few more rounds. Compton Xabat crouch-walks into the lobby, ducking under the bullets. Taking cover behind a couch, Xabat yells, "You're a failure as a Prime Minister, a pilot, and a man, Spike! What have you and your illustrious UN ever accomplished, hm? Spent a lot of tax dollars, conducted a lot of FAILED social experiments, made a lot of pronouncements... but actual results? Nowhere to be found. You're both dinosaurs. You and the UN. It's time you became extinct." Xabat pauses in his ranting. Spike seemed underdressed... wait. He wasn't wearing any shoes. And didn't he catch a few bloody footprints here and there? Xabat gets a nasty idea as he looks over the receptionist's table. Glass chandeliers, glass barriers on the upper walkways... with a few well-placed bullets, he could send glass flying everywhere! Smirking, he fires his pistol up above Spike, shattering numerous glass objects and sending shards raining down on him. The girl, meanwhile, needs little encouragement. "Thank you!" she mutters as she runs out the front door. Spike Witwicky sighs to himself as he hears the sound of blathering and then falling and breaking glass. The day just went from Worse to You Gotta Be Kiddin' Me. "You know what, Compton? Maybe if you took your blinders off. Maybe if you saw that there's a world outside your beloved Spain, a world that needs help feeding its hungry, help taking care of its poor. Don't think I don't know what this is all about..this is all about how your chintzy government got corrupted, spent its cash on everything but what it needed to, and then forsaked its people and blamed it on me and the Un. The sad thing is? You bought it!!" he pops up again, safe where he is for now and looks for compton to take another shot at. Compton Xabat yells back, "That's a load of horscrap AAAGHHH!" He screams as two bullets rip the skin along his back. Even though he had ducked down behind the couch, it was hardly an ideal structure for stopping bullets. "Prick! I am going to bury you, then I am going to piss on your dead body!" He shouts into his radio, "Idiots! What is taking you? Get down here!" But his thugs reply, "Screw you, dude! We not wanting to be shot like other suckers!" "Argh! Why is everything going wrong?" Xabat yells, and he moves to hide behind a pillar. Aisha Redbird soars down into view from the skies above. Aisha Redbird has arrived. Spike Witwicky rolls his eyes, "Have you even /seen/ a pair of boobs?" he remarks. Damn, he's outta bullets. "Tell ya what..you wanna bury me so bad, Compy-poo? Why don't you come over here and do it? Let's see if you can handle an old man like me, eh?" the sound of an MP5 being thrown and skidding across the floor can be heard. Compton Xabat shakes his head as he sees the MP5 get tossed away. "Oh, so very unwise," he mutters to himself. He cautiously steps out from behind the pillar, gun leveled at the desk. "Oh, you're so right, Spike. I do need more women in my life, yes? And I'm sure Carly will be looking for another man once you're dead..." Xabat muses that this ought to get him riled up, even though he obviously has no intentions of going after Carly in any way once he kills Spike. "But thanks for putting the gun away..." He steps up to the desk, leaning over it with the gun pointed at Spike. "That makes things so much easier..." Xabat pulls the trigger... "Oh, for the love of..." Spike takes the gun out of Xabat's hands just long enough to smack him rather ungloriously in the forehead with the butt end of the gun. Putting it back in the man's hands, knowing it's empty and stands up to face Compton. "You're empty." he says, "And that's for even THINKING oftouching my wife, you /filth/!" Compton Xabat staggers from the hit, his hand going up to cover the point of impact. Blood trickles from a cut on his head and down his nose. After the gun is put back in his hands, Xabat just throws it down. "Fine. You want to do it this way? I can do it this way." Placing a hand up on the desk, he tries to swing his legs over it and plant his feet into Spike's chest as he closes the distance. "Frankly, this is more satisfying!!!" Spike Witwicky evades your grasp attack. Spike Witwicky moves out of the way and gets into a defensive stance, "Well alright then, boy, we got ourselves a fight. You aren't gettin' up from this one, and you don't have your boyfriend Thad to save your ass this time either!" <> Compton Xabat sneers at Spike in the now crowded receptionist area. "You should've just let me shoot you, Spike. You're an old man... feeble, stupid, weak. And I? I am the future, little puta. Fresh, young, and full of new ideas. And if you won't make way for your successors... I'll BEAT you out of the way." He throws a right hook at Spike. Spike Witwicky evades your grasp attack. Spike Witwicky ducks out of the way, "If I'm all of what you said, then why can't you hit me?" he returns with a straight jab at Compton's face. You evade Spike Witwicky's grasp attack. [concluded in Spike_Hard%21_%28conclusion%29]
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