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six ────────────── operation harley!
"You gotta be kiddin' me. You're gonna risk the entire mission for some mental defective dressed as a court jester." Chris spits bitterly, placing his odd helmet on his head. They'd been driving since they left the club, or at least wherever the truck had crashed. Elina rolls her eyes in an irritated manner, tightening the leg holster holding a small daggers before counting how many she had. Digging through all of her belongings and gear she'd left on the bus before going into the club the night before, she picked up the small foldover bag of special daggers dawning small buttons—when, once activated, would explode once hitting the desired target. Clipping the bag to her belt, Elina stood. "You were also in Belle Reve. What makes you think you're so special?"
"I'm not crazy?"
"This coming from a guy who wears a toilet seat on his head." Dubois states.
Rick shakes his head, tucking his guns into his holsters and stands. "We don't leave one of our own behind." Rick informs, marching off the bus. Elina sighs and turns to Cleo, shaking her. "Hey. Come on, wake up." Elina orders softly. The girl sits up, groaning. Elina looks to Abner, and he nods, walking to Cleo. Elina thanks him quickly before following Dubois off the bus. "Alright, we'll enter through the third floor, go to the inner staircase, and then down to the inner cellar where they usually keep their detainees. Hopefully, Harley's still alive." Rick informed, nodding to the others.
Elina wasn't the religious type these days, but, if there was a God, she sure was praying to him right about now. Harley was her best friend, having previously been more than that during Harley's big glamourous emancipation from the Joker—the two had found one another and got romantically involved before they mutually called it quits and opted for being simply best friends. Though, Elina will always consider Harley to be one of her only good relationships. She can't stand to think what would happen if Harley Quinn was no longer a part in her life. A final exclamation sounds from Christopher, which surfaces Elina from her worries.
"It's not a toilet seat, it's a beacon of freedom!" He yells to Dubois, who slides on his own helmet. Following he and Rick, the three of them run across the street and sprint towards the building. They were doing a crouched sort of run—like the way they run in Scooby Doo, which was appropriate, Elina decided. Once they got to the building, Dubois pulled out his grappling hook and pointed it upwards. Rick held up his walkie talkie and spoke into it. "Ratatouille, what do you got?"
"Third floor hallway's clear. Abner?" Says Cleo through the crackling radio.
"There doesn't seem to be any incoming traffic." Abner informs.
