After scooping up Leo, Joe slid across the cement, right leg first as if taking home plate, a bullet popping the back truck tire he just made it past, blowing it open and slanting the flatbed slightly to the back right, one of the crates sliding back and almost out as a result. Noticing Joe had nothing more than an attack dog in his hands, the agents quickly turned their sights back towards the well dressed mobsters.

For a few moments, Joe kept his cover and watched the unfolding gun fight. He noticed an agent cop two shots in the shoulder and hit the deck. That was the last time he'd hold onto and worry about Leo, who bounced out of his lap as soon as Joe scrambled for the gun the downed government official had dropped. Another Colt, just without the snub nose.

Things seemed to slow, noticing Ilaria in a spot of bother. He tried his best to get there, shouting what seemed to be deafened cries for her to move. Move! Ilaria! MOVE! The words fell on deaf ears. Maybe he was just mouthing them as he watched her hit the wall then slide down it. Joe's eyes widened as Leo began sprinting towards her.

Over the past however long, Joe had come to develop a sense of peace about himself. He wanted more from life than to just lose himself in his emotions. He wanted clarify. Peace. And he thought he'd found it. Until now. Until his instincts kicked in that had him stepping out from behind cover and walking towards the attackers. As he did, another officer copped a bullet in the ribs, spinning to the ground as he let out a painful cry.

With gun aimed and his rage filled eyes looking down it, Joe squeezed the trigger. One shot, leg. Another shot, chest. Two more shots, ear and cheek. One down. Joe kept his aim on the body that fell, still walking forward, squeezing out two more shots, both to the head.

As two of the three remaining airport gate crashers fiddled with their guns, reloading, Joe focused on one who was still standing, raising his dominant hand with a reloaded pistol attached. Letting out a war cray, Joe bum rushed the young looking man and spear tackled him into the side of one of the fuel trucks.

As Joe was making a bee line for the shooter, Leo scrambled over to Ilaria, nearly knocking her over after she'd already gotten to her hands and knees.

"It's ok, boy. Andiamo a Papa!"

Understanding the Italian command, 'go to papa,' Leo was back off and running. The shooter remaining didn't see him coming until Leo was in the air with teeth glistening and coming right at his face.  Ilaria reached the metal box and popped the lid, grabbing a sawed-off single barrel shotgun. She spun around and saw Leo in full attack mode, so she turned to where Joe was in hand-to-hand combat with the last remaining attacker.  She started sprinting across the hangar toward them, knowing very well the gun in her hands was loaded.

The attacker landed a hard blow with an open palm into Joe's chest, which sent him crumpling to a knee. The attacker took the opportunity to run for a truck, leaving the other guy still screaming and trying to get away from Leo.  He hit the gas just as Ilaria reached shooting range.  

"Fuck, this is going to be expensive."

She fired one shot after the truck, which hit the back of the metal container.  There was a split second of an eerie silence, and then the tank exploded.  The blast sent the truck off the ground, where it flipped then landed upside down in an infernal blaze on the empty tarmac.

Ilaria sighed heavily and and dropped her shoulders, breathing heavily.  Joe was on his feet again and came up beside her as the heat from the fire reached them even that far away.

With one hand each on her lower back and stomach, Joe held her a moment in a side hug, then moved them to where Ilaria could sit down on the opened back of the truck with the busted wheel.

Around them, bodies were either motionless or moving in agony. One in particular caught Joe's attention, partly because Leo was nudging him with his nose and looking back at Joe and Ilaria.

It looked like two of the undercover FBN agents were still alive. Joe dragged his right hand slowly down his face. Really? The fact that they were still alive had him feeling like he was facing a dilemma. He could kill them and dispose of the bodies but the story would still get out and make the rounds, bringing more heat to them from both the media and the bureaucratic assholes they worked for who would likely already know this meeting was taking place, and would likely seek to use that to put them away.

They could also just let them live. In this, who knows what would happen. Maybe they'd strengthen the case against Midas, get more people involved and work to bring them down again, and possibly have it end a lot differently. They could also realize Joe and Ilaria weren't the bad guys here, and they could potentially just let it all slide.

After a moment of letting the squirming bodies do more of that, Joe felt a hand grip onto his. It was a familiar feeling, which gave rise to a grin. She had a way with letting him know her mind without the need for words. Small touches and looks were all he needed if he was paying attention.

With a glance to his partner in many things, today being crime, Joe also recognized a familiar look.

Her back hurt.  Her head was pounding from the echo of gunshots and an explosion still ringing in her ears.  Part of her was furious and wanted information, but at heart she was still a doctor, and there were people that needed help- living or dying. But, first things had to be first.

Ilaria reached up and put her hand against his chest. His asthma hadn't acted up in some time, but a blow like that could trigger an attack.

"Breathe in for me, babe."

She listened to him breathe. Feeling his chest rise and fall was a calming feeling for Ilaria. He seemed fine, no wheezing or anything alarming.  With his help, she slid off the tailgate of the truck and stood, taking a few deep breaths. Guards were now pouring in, having heard everything happening over their lunch breaks.

"Well, this is a fine mess, isn't it?  What do we do now? I need to get the injured people triaged, but, what about the FBN agents now? Whoever these assholes are kind of blew our cover with the gloves.  I mean, no one attacks dish glove peddlers."

It was definitely a mess. Smoke would be noticeable from a distance soon enough, if not already. The guards were now in the hangar turning over bodies, accessing who was a stiff and who needed a couple more plugged into them to help that along. As one removed a gun and aimed it at a body that another was patting down, Joe called out.

"Stop!"

After an attempt at a reassuring smile, Joe moved away from Ilaria towards the injured undercover FBN agent which one of the guards had just removed a wallet from that was met with a snatching hand, the still living body not wanted to part with it, which was shaking as it held on tight to the intruders wrist.

Joe let out a long exhale as he moved closer and knelt down in front of the wounded law enforcement officer.

"Please..." The agent said as he eyed off Joe, his hand still clamped around the guards wrist that was holding his identification.

"I'm only doing my job."

Joe looked at the guard holding the agent's property then flicked his head off to the side, signally for him to leave. A nod was returned before he tried to make his move, yet the hand on his tugged him to stay.

"Leave it." Was Joe's verbal instruction that was met with the Midas bodyguard dropping the wallet onto the weary man's lap before moving away.

Still kneeling, Joe then looked at the one who was still holding a gun and in close proximity, the weapon now dangling at his side. Joe also signaled him to step aside with a flick of the head which had the man holster his weapon and look elsewhere for something to engage his focus on. There were many dead bodies needing to be searched and readied for 'clean up' and so he went to task.

Looking down at the man who was now grasping his wallet tightly, blood from his hand smearing on it, Joe shook his head.

"Now what do we do with you, hmm?"

"I have a family, please!"

The government employed narc was shaking. He was visibly and physically uneasy. Staring death in the face could do that. So could two gunshot wounds.

"Ilaria." Joe called over his shoulder, his head turning towards her.

"Do what you do, doc."

Joe stood with a push of his hands against his knees, then immediately noticed a scuffle breaking out with a small group of their guards. It looked like one of the uninvited was still alive and quite lively at that, putting up a decent fight. Joe headed over to them with the intention of hopefully using this one to get some information from, if he was up to the task. Even if the guy wasn't, Joe had an inkling he'd still like to try anyways. He hadn't gotten his hands this dirty in quite some time and this might just bring to light some much needed information.

In "Doctor mode," Ilaria didn't see ally or enemy; only a body in need of healing. With a quick visual exam, she looked at the nearest guards and nodded toward the injured man.

"Get him to the truck over there and lay him down. I can't do any more of this up and down off the floor today. Then call Dac and have him bring the ambulance and tell Dr. Cohen to be ready."

As the guards began to move, Reverend Wilson stepped to Ilaria's side.

"If you don't stop making me take my lunches away from you, I'm quitting."

Ilaria smirked as the two started following the other guards with the injured man.

"You never let me have any fun."

Fifteen minutes later, the ambulance was pulling off towards the hospital. Ilaria's dress was covered in blood, but she'd managed to stop the agent from bleeding out all over the hangar. She looked across the massive building to Joe, who appeared to be in deep conversation with the remaining attacker. Leo was poised to attack at his command, eyes locked on the intruder. 

A circle had formed around the last survivor from the gate crashing fuel tanker surprise party. So far no official authorities had attended the scene and Midas Air employees were busy putting out the truck that Ilaria blew up. It wouldn't be easy nor quick given the fuel was still alight but men were already bringing wheelbarrows filled with dirt and sand, taken from a pile behind one of the hangars. This wasn't the first time fuel was spilled in this section of the airfield, and likely wouldn't be the last.

In a far corner, Joe had his arms crossed, standing before a kneeling assailant who had his head propped up by way of a guard tugging his hair.

"Listen. I'm not going to fuck around here. You have two options. Tell me what I want and live. Refuse to and end up like the others."

"I don't know..."

His response was cut short by another guard's fist clocking him on the jaw. The momentum had the Italian jolt to the side, but the man tasked with helping this unlucky to still be alive criminal stay upright pulled him back into position again as a bloodied lip was to show for his reluctance to reveal what Joe wanted to know.

He hadn't yet asked the question outright, but the guy knew. Joe wanted to know who he worked for and why he was here. If he'd give up that information he might just live beyond this. Might.

"Let's try this again, eh?" Joe said with a calm voice. He hadn't moved an inch and was still standing over the man, arms crossed, looking down at him.

"Please..."

Another fist, this time from the other side, smashed into the man's cheek. The force was a little more and with it the hand pulling the intruder's hair lost its grip, leaving the guy with his head hung down, spitting out blood and a tooth. After wiping the hair that had ripped from the man's head on his thigh, the guard positioned behind their target grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him upright again.

Still calm and poised, Joe reached his hand to his right, palm up, which was met with a handgun being placed into it. A quick flick of the revolver barrel and Joe had confirmed the gun was loaded and ready. He let it dangle at his side.

"Who do you work for and why were you sent here."

Reverend Wilson was an imposing figure of a man, standing six-foot-five and built like a brick wall. Sensing an opportunity to be of service, he put a hand briefly on Ilaria's shoulder and said that he'd be right back.

With his gray trench coat fluttering behind him, he approached Joe, placing his hands casually into his pockets.

"Excuse me, Mr. Adonis. I happened to notice you've got a tight-lipped sack of shit on your hands here. If you'd like, I'd be happy to see if I can loosen him up a bit."

Joe smirked a bit, interested to see what Ilaria's most trusted body man could do. He nodded and stepped aside. The Reverend calmly walked over to the man in the chair and knelt beside him, taking his hand kindly and patting the top of it.

"Son, you look rough. They call me Reverend Wilson, and I have a special way of helping men like you find an easier way out of situations like this one you find yourself in. Now, why don't we have a prayer. You start."

With that, the Reverend gripped the guys hand and made one fluid motion that twisted and locked the poor saps fingers in an unnatural position. 

​​​​​​"OH GOD!" 

The man screamed in agony, and Wilson smiled. 

"Very good. Now I'm going to keep applying more and more pressure until you tell Mr. Adonis here what he wants to know, or until your tendons start separating from your bone. I suggest the former, because, well you don't want to know what happens if I move my pinkie."

Things usually ended the same way with Joe. Someone unrecognizably fucked up and Joe having gone a little too far in his effort to 'talk' to that someone. Listening to Reverend Wilson's offer to intervene, Joe smirked his acceptance then stood off to the side. With the gun resting snugly in his elbow after crossing his arms again, Joe watching on with great curiosity.

He'd heard a little about the man's ability but it mostly revolved around Ilaria giving him the slip. Some poker games together with Del Rossi were what time he'd spent most with the man. The game was revealing. You couldn't walk away from a lengthy session, or even a few hands, without knowing a little something about the people you shared those moments with. Del Rossi seemed to like the guy too, which was odd in and of itself to Joe, but not far fetched given how his opinion had sharply turned around regarding Le Strega.

When it came to how he handled himself in situations that he was paid specifically for, Joe had yet to fully experience the Reverend's prowess. Rumors had surfaced about a time at the library. And another at Arturo's Breads and Spreads. But those were just by word of mouth, and some lips were a little loose with their accuracy. Joe was interested to see what exactly this guy could do first hand so welcomed the intervention.

After a very short period, it was obvious he'd done this before, or at least had a great understanding of how to get a man to spill his guts, without needing to cut them out of him.

"Alright! Suchowlański sent me!" He screamed out.

"You guys are taking his West Coast prof...AhhhH!"

Wilson squeezed his hand a little more, not happy at the information pouring out.

"Ok! Ok! He wants you all dead!"

The sound of a gun rippled and echoed throughout the hangar. Joe's arm was outstretched, the pistol pointed at the head of the now slumped forward deceased, smoke spilling into the air from the end of the barrel.

Wilson didn't flinch when the gun went off, only let go of the man's hand just before he took his last breath. When it was over, he stood and glanced down at the lapel of his coat collar, and removed a small chuck of gray matter. 

"A pleasure, as always, Mr. Adonis."

He reached out a large hand and shook Joe's with a pleasant smile, then walked off to join Ilaria, who was propped up against the truck waiting. She shook her head and chuckled. 

"You two look like you had entirely too much fun with that."

Ilaria pushed herself off the door of the truck, then stopped and winced, pressing on her lower back. The Reverend raised an eyebrow. 

"You good?" 

Nodding, Ilaria held up one finger, in a sign that she needed a second. Finally, she let out a deep breath.

"I'm fine. Too much bouncing around for my back. Let's get going to the hospital so I can see if Lewis needs another hand."

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