After a pleasant lunch at Aria, some of the crew of RP, Inc. exit through the front doors into the bright Vegas sun. As they stand and await Don Kathtyn's driver, the small group makes idle chit chat about anything and everything. The food, the weather, the amazing Svetlana...

Suddenly, a car careens into view down the block. It's clearly not Kathryn's driver, but none of the party on the sidewalk see much beyond erratic driving and a blaring Vegas sun reflecting off of the windshield. With shrieking brakes, it pulls to a lurching halt at the curb, and the rear door opens as a second figure pops up in the back seat. As the members of RP Inc. stand there confused, the man in the back leans out and snatches young Charlie by the forearm, pulling him roughly into the car, which in turn speeds away before the car door even closes. 

Merci screams and gives chase, followed pace by pace by both Kathryn and The_Courier. Curry's legs are longer, however, and he quickly outpaces the women, gaining enough distance on the car that he's able to vault onto the bumper as it slows to make a corner. They watch the car travel out of view as Curry's duster coat flaps out behind him and he hoists himself onto the trunk of the car as it accelerates away.

Merci and Kathryn have been huffing it full bore until Kat finally reaches out and grabs Merci, forcing her to stop. It finally clicks that she can't outrun a goddamn car, and RP Inc.'s Right Hand slumps to her knees in the street, a hysterical mess that Kat can't begin to reassemble. She holds her friend tightly and prays through her tears as she stares into the shimmering heat of the Vegas afternoon.

Back around the corner, in the street in front of Aria, Merci remains sitting in a heap, Kathryn's arms supporting her. Both women are shocked speechless, staring at the intersection where the car had turned. An obnoxious car horn blares out behind them, causing them both to yell out. Turning around, they see an angry driver cursing them and waving his hands, indicating they needed to move out of his way. 

Angry now, Merci stands and pulls her Magnum out of her holster and points it at the driver's face, which quickly drains all its color as she steps around the front of the car and towards his driver's side window. Kathryn follows her quickly, pushing her arm down while speaking loudly and clearly into the other woman's face in an attempt to break through the haze.

"Merci, no!" she says as the terrified driver accelerates away. 

Never in her entire life had Merci felt so goddamn useless. 

And afraid.

Kathryn has her gun out as she sprints after the car, desperately thinking about shooting out tires... but while she's a good shot, she doesn't want to risk hitting Charlie, or even causing the car to crash. Instead, she slams her gun into her pocket and holds Merci.

Kathryn is lost in thought, scenarios frantically running through her head, rejecting them as quickly as they come in- until the sound of a car nearby jolts her from her thoughts. Kathryn sees murder written on Merci's face, and she quickly grabs her friend's arm- which gives the driver a chance to escape. Still, worth it to avoid some random asshole dropping in the street and drawing attention.

Kathryn nods at the next car, which had turned a corner and is approaching them. 

"I'll get this one. We'll see if we can catch up... but just be glad Curry is there. This one might be on him."

Two minutes and one evicted motorist later, Kathryn was driving- glancing occasionally at her friend, who was nervously tapping her gun against the car window. After following the one turn they'd scene, Kathryn mostly drove by feel. The odds of actually finding the car were almost nothing if it had kept driving. But maybe Curry would slow them down. And if the car had vanished- well, at least he was along for the ride.

"Holy motherfucking church of Satanic Anus!" The Courier cursed under his breath as the driver slammed his foot on the accelerator and the car lurched forward with increasing velocity. He could feel his grip slipping, and knew that if he didn't act now, he would be thrown off the vehicle. Using the sides of the roof as leverage, he swings one-handed to the passenger side of the front, and wrenches the door open. Thought the effort of the task causes his muscles to scream in protest, he grabs the goon riding shotgun, and pulls with all his might. Fortunately, the bastard isn't buckled up, and a few minutes sees him rolling off the vehicle and toppling away on the road, with a particularly nasty bump breaking his neck. 

The Courier then swings into the empty seat, feet first and collides his heels with the side of the driver's head. The man's over-sized cranium smashes into the window, driving a jagged piece of glass into his temple and killing him. Without a driver, the car begins to erratically speed away from the road. Knowing that he has very little time, he grabs the switch-blade between his teeth and sinks it into the neck of the astounded kidnapper, who was holding Charlie in the back seat.

Pulling the blade out, he stows it away into his pocket, and helps Charlie into his arms, shielding him from the spray of blood squirting from the kidnapper's jugular. "Hold tight!" he yells at Charlie before rolling off the run-away vehicle. The car smashes into a nearby wall while The Courier lands with an almighty impact onto the road, clutching Charlie. He could feel a few of his ribs crack with the impact, but is relieved to see that the boy is unharmed, if traumatized. Letting loose a relieved sigh, he lets his head droop back onto the road, cradling the boy with his left arm as he hears the sound of an approaching vehicle behind him............ 

The car hasn't stopped yet and Merci is flying out of it, running towards Curry and Charlie. Charlie is weeping and frantic, but not from fear anymore...Curry is on his back, semi-concious from the pain of several cracked ribs. Charlie is on his knees next to him, reaching towards the man when Merci comes to a halt beside him, dropping to her knees, as well. 

"Don't touch him, Son. We don't know how bad he's hurt and we may make it worse," she says, he own eyes welling up. She can see Curry's hand is alright, though, and places Charlie's on it before turning to seek out Kathryn. Her boss is long gone, though, having dashed off for the nearest phone booth. Turning back to the downed man on the street, she leans close to his ear.

"I don't know if you can hear, or understand me. But help is coming. Try to be still. 

"You saved my son's life. I owe you mine," she whispers, running her fingers down his cheek.