Streets of Gold [Dad76]

The only thing that gave the Soldier away was the glint from his visor, the two way street of wearing a mask. It meant you didn't always blend in well and had to stay away in the darkness. He was monitoring the area, as he'd gotten a call, after a stint in Dorado well out of any range it was a bit unnerving to have someone contact him. How the hell they'd even managed to find him was something to look into. After he'd assured Hollywood was still standing. The call had said something about an aussie, with a singed look, and a lot of explosives. Wasn't exactly part of his mission, but 76 still had something in him that couldn't let all these innocent people get hurt because of some maniac with a fetish for high explosives.

He sighted his target, and noted that the big guy he'd been warned about wasn't with him. Interesting, whether that made him more dangerous or less was to be decided. He noted Junkrat heading for the alley he was in, and slipped back into a doorway, pulse rifle against his chest. Missing a leg and an arm, replacements for both. Some sort of home made grenade launcher, enough explosives to take out a city block. The soldier slipped out from his hiding place and used the fire escape to reach the top of the building, crouching behind the roof access. He furrowed his brows. Did he act now and risk the authorities on his own ass or did he wait it out?

Too public to use the rifle, he'd be found out immediately, he slid it around his shoulder and against his back. He went for the pistol holstered at his belt instead, smartly silenced as he moved out from behind the Rooftop access. "Stand up straight kid, and turn around slowly," the gruff voice demanded rather sharply. He stood up, leading to a familiar situation. "Where's the big guy?" He took a moment to determine if there were any other targets in the area. He'd already marked Junkrat and noted no one else appeared matching Roadhog's description. "You are Junkrat right kid?" He kept eyes on everything it seemed, suspicious of any movement.

Perhaps he wasn't exactly on the good side of the law himself.

Junkrat currently had his arm hooked around a sturdy pole jutting from the concrete of the building, teetering on his pegged leg as he stretched himself out over the edge of the building to get a better look around. He was in the meat of the city right now, but those studios piqued his interest, he was never one for the cinema, it required far too much sitting still for his taste, but those studios probably had all kind of interesting things, and there was always the bank, which was a bit old school, but he wouldn't pass over an easy opportunity for some extra payout. Money made the world go 'round, as they said.

He hadn't actually expected anyone to come after him, part of him hoped that old man wouldn't have ratted on him. No one else had any reason to know that he would be here, so when he heard a barked order come from behind him, he was so startled that he very nearly fell from his perch, only managing to stumble last moment from the edge and whirl on the owner of the voice, "Oi! Y'nearly killed me, mate!" He immediately spotted the pistol and stood straight, lifting his arms with a rather unamused look on his face, "What is it with you old crackers and wavin' pistols in me face!?" He'd had quite enough of that.

He noted the most more hefty weapon on his back and gave him a wide grin, "You a bounty hunter, grampa? Or just here for a tango?" His face showed little concern when he asked about his companion, but he couldn't help but regret leaving him behind, "Roadie? He's around. Closer 'n you think, mate! So y'better watch yourself!" He flashed him a wide grin, taking a moment to make a dramatic boy, "Oi you heard of me then? Old Georgie fill ya in? What a kidder." His voice was venomous at the last words, feeling a touch betrayed. He let out a fiendish set of giggle and eyed the old man up and down, "y'gonna shoot me then?" He reached into the little back that rested on his hip, pulling out a makeshift grenade, "because if you shoot me, I'll pull the pin offa' this and take the top floor of this building down with me." He was intending to put them in a standoff. But was mostly trying to buy himself time.

Soldier 76 slipped closer, as if calling on that bluff. No one asks to be shot even with a threat like that. "And what make you think I care if you blow this whole building to the sky?" he asked in a gruff, sort of aloof tone. He had his pistol aimed not directly at Junkrat but at his hand. "Besides, I don't have intentions to kill you, I'd rather leave you for the proper authorities." Vigilante, as opposed to mercenary then. He continued to step in, confident in his abilities to stop the man before he could get the grenade off.

"I suppose that would have made my job a lot easier if you'd fallen, no targets in the area match your friends description. I'll have to assume you're lying to me," He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Never was fond of liars, specially not liars who think I'm stupid." The old soldier noted the man looking at his pulse rifle. Well at least he wasn't considering anything else dimwitted.

He shook his head. "Call me grandpa again and I'll make sure to shoot off your other leg," he muttered and continued to move in closer. "George, don't know who you're talking about, an anonymous tip told me some genius was deciding to cause trouble in the neighborhood, all I see is a young punk with a fetish for explosives. Maybe it's not even worth my time." His dry tone made it hard to tell if he was joking or not. 76 glanced around. "I guarantee you can't pull that pin before I take your hand off, and then what have you got? No bargaining chips, no grenade, and I can promise you I don't miss son." Dead serious, his tone was intense. He was hardened.

Junkrat was bemused by that, why was he here if not to stop him from causing a death toll among civilians? He flashed him a wide grin, "Who d'ye think yer foolin' gramps." He could tell that gun was aimed at the hand that currently held a grenade, he giggled fiendishly as he tossed it back and fourth, one hand to the other, looking thoughtful as he did, "Why would you be here if not to stop me leveling buildings and hurting people?" He didn't like the way this guy was closing the distance between them, and stepped back a bit, only to realize he was against the edge. Damn.

He tried to keep his demeanor confident as he fixed the old soldier with a foolhardy grin, laughing wildly, "So yer not stupid then, eh mate? Must be, y'came after me." His eyes were wild as he stepped closer to the man, a mad growl in his giddy voice, "I've had plenty of people try an' kill me, what makes you think you can?!" He was clearly gaining some confidence as he spoke, why shouldn't he be?! He'd had bounty hunter after bounty hunter come after him and they all fell exactly the same. He could take this old dog on.

Rather than look threatened by that, he only looked amused, giggling fiendishly, "Oh struck a nerve, gramps? And here I thought we could be mates." He was still tossing the grenade from hand to hand, partly to make sure this old soldier wouldn't know which hand to shoot, it was a distraction. He giggled madly, "You must not read much, hard on the eyes?" He snickered and tossed the grenade into the opposite hand one more time before letting it drop down to the sidewalk below, "FINE! I'll put it down." His face split into a wild eyed grin as he lifted his hand, which had the ring spinning on a metal finger, "Oops..."

Soldier 76 was watching a flicker in his visor taking note of the grenade as it bounced back and forth, he might not be able to stop it should he decide to do something stupid. His hand moving back and forth fluidly as the Grenade moved. He seemed underwhelmed. "Fooling, nobody," he grumbled as he watched the man suspiciously. A last step. He stopped, and sighed. "So what if I am, doesn't mean I care, just means I'd rather see you taken down first."

"You don't scare me, kid, dealt with enough pyromaniacs, explosive experts, and mad men in my time," he grunted as he watched the man. "I'm not plenty of people, son, you don't want to get on my bad side. As well I'm not just a bounty hunter, if I wanted you dead you would have been dead." He noted that the man was cackling. That didn't bode well.

76 gave him a sour look. "That's sir to you," he grumbled and decided that if the Junkrat wanted to play it this way, he was going to play it this way. Cheeky, stupid, whatever, the Soldier rushed the man. "Lets see how you like to be dropped," a full body tackle as he put his pistol away. He was going to take them both off the roof. He must be crazy!

Junkrat wasn't the kind of person prone to shock or surprise, after everything he'd survived in his comparably short amount of time alive, it was hard to actually leave him stunned and staggered. He knew the grenade he'd tossed below them had a two minute fuse, "Oi, that's where yer wrong, mate. You ain't dealt with someone like me." He was foolhardy, completely mental, and unafraid of personal harm, and a hell of a lot smarter than he looked, "You got two minutes grampa. You gonna come after me? Or protect them?" He jerked his head towards the ground with a wild grin on his face. He'd assumed the old man would leave him here, giving him a chance to escape. He was very wrong.

He let out a loud yelp as he felt the brunt of the older man knocking hard into him, if he had more steady footing he might have been able to hold his ground, but his peg leg slipped from under him easily, and in what was probably only a few seconds tops, the both of them were falling from the rooftop, "Oi! You mad old shit! Yer gonna kill us BOTH!" He couldn't do much more than brace himself, it wasn't very often that the maddened Aussie felt fear, but he couldn't deny the instinctive sense of impending doom as the pair lost the fight with gravity. He was really regretting leaving Roadhog back at their camp right about now.

76 didn't look concerned, he knew how grenades worked, and he knew he could survive one. Done it before, he could do it again. Getting to the ground safely was his first deal. "Quit squirming, you're not gonna die today kid," he groused as he felt Junkrat panicking, no need to panic as he put his back down and then his feet first, and they seemed to slow before he touched down to the ground. They hit relatively hard but not lethally. And he snatched up the grenade holding the lever tight to avoid it going off.

He shoved it into Junkrat's hands. "I suggest you hold onto that while we find a place to put that," he grunted. He wasn't playing around. "Unless you want to go boom, kid; doesn't make any difference to me." He stepped back and pulled out his rifle. "Move it or lose it." He was certainly crazy in his own way. Seemed pretty serious.

"And don't think about doing anything funny, I've got you in my sights." Hard bargain there.

Junkrat's heart was beating in his chest faster than it ever had before, and the part of him lost to madness admitted that this was one hell of a rush. He fully expected them to slam into the ground. Boom. Splat. The old man might survive but he would be a bloody and very dead mess. He either didn't hear or didn't believe his words when he promised him they wouldn't be dying, closing his eyes tight to prepare for the inevitable splat that never actually came.

Sure, the landing didn't feel good, and he was lucky his bad leg hadn't been bent or damaged, but they were in one piece, "CRICKEY. Are you absolutely around the bend?! You coulda'--What?!" His eyes were wide when the grenade was passed to his hands, and he fumbled to clench the lever with a death grip, giving a disbelieving cackle as he looked around, "Move it where, mate?!" He didn't argue with the old soldier, it was hard to with a grenade in his hands and a gun drawn, "Alright mate calm yer knickers. I'm movin'!" He didn't know where this old dog intended to dispose of this thing, but right now he really had no choice but to comply.

76 might be old, but that didn't mean he was out of the game, he started off gun comfortably aimed at Junkrat. Sure they could have smashed into the earth. They didn't did they? Maybe he was going daft in his old age, but he felt sharper than ever. The kid thought he could outsmart him, though he was more intelligent; maybe he was, but Jack had never been one to let that stop him. He was more of a think about the problem in a different way than let someone else make the rules up for him.

"Don't know, guess you'll have to find out if I really am crazy, you're the one calling me grandpa kid," he replied. "Maybe I'm senile as well, guess you'll just have to deal with the fact that I beat you at your own game." A calculated risk, he had no idea of knowing if the landing system could even handle the weight of two people. Wasn't like the soldier enhancement program had exactly been perfectly on the level. Look at Reyes. He snorted. "We're heading out of town, 5 miles due east, and you can toss that away. Wouldn't suggest calling attention to yourself, can't imagine you want the police on you."

Junkrat hated having guns pointed at him, waved around in his face, it was hard to argue with a man holding a gun to your head. And he wasn't fond of feeling at the mercy of someone else. And yet, here he was, being herded along by some old war dog with a gun to his back, and a live grenade in his hand. He'd opted to grip it in the metal hand that wouldn't get tired from the death grip he currently had on the lever. This was just not shaping up to be his day.

He looked back at him with a wide, sardonic grin and laughed, something between deranged and nervous, "Yer about as crazy as me, mate. I don't need to find that out!" Had he even been sure that they could both survive that fall?! This was twice he'd encountered someone who seemed just as crazy as he was, except this time that crazy was not on his side, and he was not happy about it. He glanced back at him, smirking, "can't imagine you do either, mate. " he jabbed, then looked back ahead, "5 miles? C'mon, you got both your legs mate that ain't no easy stretch fer me!" At this point he was only complaining to be a pest, he was perfectly capable of walking 5 miles, but if this old man thought he'd make the stroll pleasant, he had another things coming, "Just who the hell are you anyway?"

The old dog was keeping track of that, strategically directing them into alley ways and out of highly populated areas. Hollywood wasn't exactly all glitz and glamour, they were in the grimier parts of it in no time. Places where cops were overworked and underpaid, they might not glance their way if he kept them out of the light. "Keep moving, I ain't gonna be out here all night babysitting you," he grumbled. No he was quite wanted in America, he planned to find out what he could and then be out of the country again. So many governments looking for him, and he was always right under their noses.

"Day I become crazy as you I let them take me in," he muttered as he kept an eye out for anybody looking for trouble, the coast was clear so far. Surely though someone had seen their scuffle, maybe they were investigating it as they spoke. Paranoid, or prepared for anything it was hard to tell with the old soldier. "Maybe I don't, but I'm not the one holding the grenade. You've got two legs, I counted them on the way down." That dry humor returned, bit grim. "I'm nobody, just an old soldier who can't stop doing his job." Wasn't that just the truth. After everyone thought he was dead, Jack could have just disappeared. He could have lived on a beach somewhere no one would find him, but he just couldn't do that. He had a mission, one that needed completing. "I'd ask you the same thing, but I already know who you are, you've been on the naughty list for a while now. Can't imagine you've been brought any presents."

He could tell this old guy knew exactly where they were going, it was no doubt smart to keep them out of the better parts of the city, and he half wondered whether this bloke didn't have a rep sheet of his own, "You seem to be hiding, mate. Got people after you?" He figured if they were stuck in this situation, someone might as well make conversation, and it didn't seem like the old soldier was going to do it, "Taking back alleys an' stayin' in the shadows." He narrowed his eyes and fixed the man with a wide, fiendish grin, "The actions of a man on the run. I'd know. What'd you do anyway?" Had to of been something, right? Why else wouldn't he just flat out apprehend him and drag him to the police? He had to be running too.

That statement was met with a string of deranged giggles, as if punctuating the remark, "radiation'll do that to ya, cobber. Wouldn't recommend it." He could feel the careful, calculated vibe coming off of this guy in waves. He was a solder for sure, or he had been at some point. It'd be admirable if he didn't have a gun pointed at his back right now. He laughed and a smile split his face, "I also ain't a fancy super commando. That was a neat trick y'pulled back there, mate. What d'you call that?" They would have surely been killed on impact from that height, but the worst he'd come out with was a very sore leg. He looked rather pleased when the soldier mentioned knowing him, grinning wide, "Ah so you do know me? Seems my name carried farther than I thought." He wasn't entirely displeased by this fact, "Naughty list, eh? I find my own presents. Banks are full of 'em." In fact, he was still eyeing the bank he'd spotted from the rooftop here in Hollywood, safe like that was bound to be stuffed like a fat tick with rich people's money. He of course kept this to himself as the pair walked through the underbelly of the city.

76 shook his head, didn't have time to answer the aussie's questions, they were entering the thinning suburban neighborhoods of the city. Pretty soon they'd be on the big empty forgotten highway. A good place for a grenade to go off. No one would ask questions. "What did I do? I died," he replied cryptically, watching cars zoom by, ignoring two people wandering in front of abandoned homes. The old Hollywood sure wasn't as nice as the new Hollywood. Bigger shinier cities, and forgotten, quiet shacks.

He nodded. "Right the nuclear meltdown, didn't care to go to Australia for the heat, now I suppose it's the radiation that gets you," he grumbled, what a disaster that had been, a nuclear wasteland in the middle of the world of tomorrow. "I call that a calculated risk." This guy was less forthcoming than a mute. Not a stray word, not a dropped motive. He was buttoned up tightly. "Never seen so many different languages all saying the same thing, "Mad men on a tour of mayhem and robbery," might as well hang a neon sign around your neck, kid." It got quieter and quieter as they left the bustling metropolis.