The familiar 'pop pop' of her Defender from nearby makes his goddamn heart sing. Thank Christ. --Not that it lasts long, a bullet plugging in through the weakened door panel and whizzing near near his head. "Fuck me!" Charlie pops up, lobs another few shots in the direction of the fire. It's a long enough beat to take some measure of the situation: how three of the five fuckers have shifted off, redirecting their sights to what he can only assume is the origin of Chloe's fire.
Enough to tell that if he stays here, they're probably both fucked royally.
"This isn't in my bloody job description," he growls, pulling himself into the driver's seat of the car. He keeps as low as he can, bracing for the pop of gunfire at the windshield (not getting the safety deposit back on the rental, he thinks) as he turns the keys left in the ignition. He throws it in gear, steering by memory rather than taking the chance to sit up and do it by sight. If nothing else, a black sedan careening in their direction might pull the attention of the mooks away from her. Best case scenario, he takes a few out with the front bumper.
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Enough to tell that if he stays here, they're probably both fucked royally.
"This isn't in my bloody job description," he growls, pulling himself into the driver's seat of the car. He keeps as low as he can, bracing for the pop of gunfire at the windshield (not getting the safety deposit back on the rental, he thinks) as he turns the keys left in the ignition. He throws it in gear, steering by memory rather than taking the chance to sit up and do it by sight. If nothing else, a black sedan careening in their direction might pull the attention of the mooks away from her. Best case scenario, he takes a few out with the front bumper.