Gropey to the Max
BlueBelle parks the Bellemobile on the street. Metallic blue ankle boots on the end of shimmering pecan-tinted legs swing out of the car. A heroine in a metallic blue leotard follows, black gadget belt dangling about a small waist for one with such otherwise heroic proportions. Her footfalls soon move into the alley beside the dance club of the gangster she knows as Maxwell Carpenter.
Maxwell Carpenter is sitting in the back room, counting his money, and keeping his eye on the security cameras, which are hidden all over the club and outside. His bouncers in the club are ushering out the last few drunks, the girls getting dressed and leaving through the door that leads into the alley.
BlueBelle nods to the last of the exiting girls, a smirk on her lips as she catches the door. "Don't mind me... just keep walking... I have a private appointment..." Belle gives her hair a toss and it almost looks like her head is on fire as she steps inside. Now if she can just catch Carpenter flat-footed.
Maxwell Carpenter glances up at the monitors just in time to see the buxom fiery haired heroine disappear through the alley door. That last girl gives Belle a look that belies jealousy at her looks and a slight pout of her lips as she moves on to her car.
BlueBelle looks around the back of the club, a maze of narrow halls, tiny dressing rooms and hopefully an office where she will find her quarry. Belle draws her multipurpose pistol, readies it to fire darts and prepares to kick open the door with a sign that reads "office."
Maxwell Carpenter still sits behind his desk, calm, collected and smirking. His bodyguards have been notified of the heroine’s presence but ordered to hold off, the two burly men hidden in little closets in the office, the doors hidden. Max leans back in his chair as the light under the door is shadowed, still smirking widely.
BlueBelle kicks open the door. A flexed leg shimmering in the light of the naked bulb above becomes visible as the door flies open. The heroine follows with a multipurpose gun in her hand, pointing it at the man sitting there behind the desk stacked with cash. "Don't move, Carpenter! You're coming with me!"
Maxwell Carpenter feigns surprise as the door is suddenly kicked open by a busty redhead pointing the gun at him. He leaps up to his feet, the chair rolling then falling onto the tile floor, his white pinstripe suit immaculately clean as usual, in fact the entire office seems spotless, obsessively so. "Belle, Glad ta see ya. I take it ya finally got my message," he says with a smirk, gloved hands raised slightly.
BlueBelle purses her lips and her eyes narrow before speaking. "Yes, attacking and raping my junior partner was bad enough, but attacking my ward... that could get you hurt... but if you'll just come quietly we can avoid all that..." She gestures with the gun in her hand. "Move scumbag."
Maxwell Carpenter still can't help but smirk his eyes visibly roaming over the heroine’s body, stopping at her chest for a moment, then moving down lower as he slowly moves out from behind the desk, arms still raised. "How is Chicky doing, anyway? I left her in pretty bad shape. Would you like to see the video?" He says, that smirk confident, one heel of his shoe clicking on something on the floor.
BlueBelle doesn't like his sense of confidence and the clicking does not go unnoticed. She takes a step back, her senses on edge, ignoring his taunts about Chickfighter. "Move it now or I'll just drop you and carry you out!" The tightness of metallic blue that covers her bosom leaves no doubt that her breathing has quickened.
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, his bodyguards at the ready after the clicking, yet still making no move. Max continues to smirk, approaching the heroine noticing the quickening of her breath the nervous step back. "Ya know, I expected ta go through a couple more o' yer girls before ya showed up. I must say I'm pleasantly surprised."
BlueBelle 's jaw tightens. "Quit being so smug you big thug... I'm turning you over to the authorities before you can hurt anyone else..." She gives him room to precede her out of the office. "And no tricks..."
Maxwell Carpenter just continues to smirk, walking closer to her "What's tha matter, Doll, ya afraid of what I did ta Chicky? Did yer ward tell ya that I'm not quite normal?" He grins, walking past her but spins quickly, one hand slapping at her arm, to try and dislodge the gun.
BlueBelle fires as he spins, though wildly through the slats of an unseen closet door across the room, as he backhands the weapon from her grip. She stumbles backwards, drawing her other weapon, the blue glow of her brightsword shimmering off her metallic costume as its beam issues forth.
Maxwell Carpenter can't help but laugh as the gun is knocked from her hand and she pulls another weapon, taking a step back as he reaches into he right breast pocket, and pulling out an old fashioned straight razor, one that radiates with pure, malicious evil. A slight thump is heard in the office as one bodyguard is hit by her wild shot. But the other sneaks out behind the heroine, small club in his hand. “That's how its gonna be then eh? What, ya afraid ta fight me without yer weapon?. At least Chickfighter was brave.”
BlueBelle's head is on a swivel, throwing cascades of flaming hair across her face. Her eyes turn to the sound of the thump, widening as a thug spills out of the closet like a sack of potatoes, but are drawn immediately back to the glowing razor. "What in the hell is that?"
Maxwell Carpenter growls at the one fallen thug but keeps his attention on the heroine before him, holding the razor up in a defensive position, admiring the way the light of her brightsword reflects off the metallic blue leotard "Ya really don't wanna know."
BlueBelle figures she has the reach advantage and lunges forward, thrusting the beam of blue energy forward like a skilled fencer, intending to get a touch and drop her foe when the energy tasers him. "Oh, but I do!"
Maxwell Carpenter brings his arm up to block, the razor adding its own power to him and makes his arm inhumanly fast, yet he still grunts, keeping her attention focused on him while the thug waits for the signal "It's evil, that’s all ya need ta know. And it can cut through anything" He demonstrates by moving forward and swiping it at her abdomen, just under her breasts.
BlueBelle blinks as he catches her weapon's beam on his arm without being struck down. She is still gaping as the swipe of his razor slices open her leotard. She gulps and looks down as the costume opens up and the curve of the underside of her heavy breasts is exposed. "You bastard!"
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles and brings another swipe, this one an upward slice, hoping to cut the material between her breasts. "I think yer tits need a little air, Belle" he taunts.
BlueBelle pulls away this time before she can be sliced open, but unfortuantely not before her leotard is. Her boobs bobble into the open as she brings the beam of her brightsword around at his head in a wise arc.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks at the sight of her bobbling boobs, the sight distracting him as he feels the brightsword come down on his shoulder, from his failed, late reaction. He feels it jolt through him, stunning him, bringing him to his knees but not taking him out. The thug takes that opportunity to strike, seeing his boss go down, his club swinging down at the back of the heroine's head.
BlueBelle seems to nod to herself as she sees Carpenter go to his knees, her expression focused as she swings her beam around to strike again and finish him. Instead she lurches and her eyes blink. The beam goes out as her weapon drops from her glove. She crumples to the floor beside her weapon, lying on her side, hair covering her face.
Maxwell Carpenter growls, temporarily paralyzed from the first hit and would have been unable to defend himself from the second, that is, if the weapon hadn't dropped from her hand, and she hadn’t hit the ground soon after. He grins then and looks up at his bodyguard. "Nice work" then looks at the fallen heroine, his smirk widening.
BlueBelle flops limply to her back as the bodyguard kicks her with the toe of his shoe to make sure she's out. Her limbs flop out spread eagle and her large breasts oscillate tightly.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks finally able to stand now after the hit from the brightsword, looking at the woman, mostly her bare oscillating breasts. "Pick her up and lay her on my desk and make sure she's bound to it. I want ta have a lil fun with her," he orders, the guard obeying, picking up your limp form and carrying you to the desk, pushing the money to the floor to clear it.
BlueBelle remains as limp as a rag doll as she is tossed over a shoulder and carried to the desk to be plopped down unceremoniously like a sack of garbage, her breasts again spilling out as she sprawls. The thug bends her back even more as he proceeds to cuff a wrist or ankle to each leg of the desk.
The thug takes his time, admiring the woman’s body for a while he secures her wrists and ankles to the desk when done, his hands finding and groping those large breasts, grinning at his boss. "She's all yers, sir." Max nods and indicates that the thug should leave as he hands him the fallen brightsword.
BlueBelle remains unconscious, her head handing back over one side of the desk, the erect nipples on her bare breasts pointing upwards at the naked bulb above, unaware as her weapons are confiscated, weapons bio-keyed to work only in her hands however.
Maxwell Carpenter stands between the heroine’s spread thighs, smirking as he runs his hands over the pecan tinted hose, looking back at his minion briefly "And don't touch it, knowin her they're boobytrapped or something." He then turns his attention to his prize, the door closing behind his thug.
BlueBelle lies there like a piece of meat, not even reacting as hands caress her inner thighs through the sheer nylon tights.
Maxwell Carpenter reaches up with his hands, smirking, pressing slightly against the crotch of the metallic blue leotard briefly before his hands find those large, surprisingly firm breasts, giving each a squeeze. He keeps pawing at them with one hand while the other slaps at her cheek.
BlueBelle 's head still hangs over the far side of the desk as it is slapped back and forth. She groans and mumbles something incoherent as she comes around, blinking as she raises her head once before it falls back.
Maxwell Carpenter runs a finger over her lips smirking a bit while the fingers of his other hand toy and grope at her breasts "Welcome back, Belle."
BlueBelle grimaces in disgust as she becomes aware of the sensation of his hand mauling her breasts. "You fucking bastard," she spits out venomously and tries to bite his fingers.
Maxwell Carpenter winces and growls as his finger is bitten. He pulls his hand back and brings it down, slapping her across the face hard, the hand on her breast taking a bit of a rougher squeeze. "Ya better behave, though I don't expect ya to enjoy this as much as I will."
BlueBelle yelps as her head rebounds from the slap, red hair exploding outward like flames even as the smack of impact echoes off the walls of Carpenter's office. "Yeow!"
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, and takes out the razor again, running the blunt side down, over her breasts and further, "Yea, this is going to be great for me. I've been waitin a while fer this."
BlueBelle feels a shiver run through her flesh as the back of the cold evil blade is run over the already mauled flesh of her breast. "What exactly is this about anyway?"
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, and leans down, making sure she can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her crotch and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it hard, lashing it with his tongue before puling back, letting it pop audibly from his lips "Power. I need more of it and yer my ticket to elevate myself up in tha ranks. Though, tha Don was impressed by Chicky's video... but he wants ta see more, and I promised him a... hands on example. With you.”
BlueBelle groans as her nipple pops free, trying to comprehend the sort of mind that sees her and her team as nothing more than a way to score points with his superiors. "You sick piece of shit... am I to be a gift or something?"
Maxwell Carpenter can't help but laugh at the heroine, his fingers rolling over and around her nipples "A gift? Hell no. Yer all mine but yer gonna perfrom in front of my bosses, then I'll go after tha rest of yer team...and THEY'LL be the gifts!" He smirks, and runs the blade down again, this time swiping at the material of the leotard’s crotch... a nice slit up, opening it.
BlueBelle gasps, at first fearing he might be cutting her, making a face as she realizes he is simply exposing her clean-shaven sex. "My team won't... aiyeee... you fiend... my team won't let you get away with this!"
Maxwell Carpenter smirks and tucks the razor back into the right pocket of his suitcoat, before his fingers come down, tearing a wider hole in the pecan tinted hose and rubbing against the clean shaven sex "Of course not, yet I think it'll happen anyway."
BlueBelle strains at the cuffs and quickly realizes she is presently helpless so she grits her teeth and steels herself for what is to come.
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles again, this time kneeling down between her thighs. "That's right, don't fight it. Ain't nothin ya can do anyway," he says, before giving her sex a long, slow lick.
BlueBelle whimpers and tries to clamp her thighs together about his head.
Maxwell Carpenter gives her a few more slow, long licks before he stands and works at the belt of his pants, then the pants themselves, grinning as his tip brushes against her sex.
BlueBelle raises her head, shaking it with a pained expression before closing her eyes and letting it fall back, waiting for the inevitable.
Maxwell Carpenter grins, and seems to shiver with anticipation, before he pushes his cock into her, taking the heroine roughly, his hands grabbing and squeezing her breasts. "Aaaahh...that's what I've been lookin forward to!"
BlueBelle writhes atop the desk, groaning throatily as he pushes his throbbing member into her warm wet folds.
Maxwell Carpenter pushes in deeply, fully, and holding himself there for a moment, savoring the feel of the heroines wet pussy around him, licking his lips as he looks down at his captive "Feels better than I imagined," he grins, pulling almost completely out, then thrusting hard into her again.
BlueBelle grunts as the force of his thrust not only results in a loud wet smack of loins, but actually moves the desk an inch across the floor. She screams and strains at the cuffs that hold her.
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles at her scream starting to thrust in a hard, slow rhythm, his hips slapping against hers, chains of the cuffs rattling, but not giving to her struggles.
BlueBelle lurches as her hot humid inner darkness is invaded brutally and repeatedly, her body in its mangled costume arching up from the desktop. She contorts her face in pain and disgust, tasting her own sweat as it trickles past her lips.
Maxwell Carpenter grunts almost animalistically as he continually and brutally takes the heroine strapped to his desk, filling and emptying her hot depths with his throbbing member, fingers pinching her nipples.
BlueBelle bucks and squeals as the coupled pair of rutting villain and victimized heroine lurch across the room on the old desk, her flesh betraying her as it reacts to the physical stimulus by spiraling ever and ever closer to a sexual climax she cannot prevent.
Maxwell Carpenter grins as he feels her body responding, smirking as he looks down at her, his hands on her breasts, throbbing cock thrusting deep and hard into her over and over.
BlueBelle stiffens as she arches one more time, shuddering as she cums, unable to hold back the wave of orgasm that washes over her, breaking around the prow of his vessel in a flow of warm spume.
Maxwell Carpenter groans out at her unexpected orgasm, feeling her tighten around his member and he groans, gripping her hips and thrusting hard a few more times, before his own climax comes over him filling her.
BlueBelle pants for air, her sweaty chest heaving up and down, the tattered remains of her costume soaked through.
Maxwell Carpenter grunts, breathing heavily and smirks slowly pulling out of the heroine’s heavenly slit, and tucking himself back into his pants "That was much better than I expected. Yer a great lay."
BlueBelle mews and slumps on the desk like a defeated drowned rat, washed ashore from a shipwreck only to be captured by slavering pirates.
Maxwell Carpenter gives your thighs a pat, before opening a desk drawer pulling out a long, pink vibrator "This should keep you occupied while I set up a private meeting with my friends" He smirks, pushing hte toy into your wet folds, turning it on high.
BlueBelle sighs, her lips curling into a pout as she endeavors to persevere.
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, picking up the fallen money and putting it into a bag before pulling out a cellphone and dialing a number, heading out of the office. "Frankie? Tell tha boss that the deal is on. I got somethin he'll wanna see"
Maxwell Carpenter steps into the backroom, wearing his finest pinstripe suit, a wide grin on his face as he regards his captive heroine, having had her original costume repaired from the night of her capture, and adding a supple black leather collar around her neck. She's currently bound to a chair, blindfolded, with a vibrator buzzing away inside her, held in place, for now, by the crotch of her leotard. Absent are the pecan-tinted tights the heroine normally wears. “It's tha night of yer big show, Belle. Think yer ready?”
BlueBelle gives the mobster a wan smile, her body getting really tired of the vibrating intrusion she endures. "Do you really expect me to dance for you? You must be crazy! There's no way I'm going to cooperate with you!"
“I kinda figured that, Doll, that's why I came with an insurance policy.”
BlueBelle narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Maxwell Carpenter spins the chair around, so that the heroine faces a large monitor and presses a button on a remote, smirking. On the screen are six other women, kneeling, their hands bound behind them, red ballgags in their mouths, and blindfolded. Behind them stand burly looking thugs, holding small caliber pistols to the back of each girls head.
BlueBelle shakes more with rage than any vibrator ever could. "You bastard!"
“What I mean is that fer every time you don't cooperate, or do somethin me or one of my friends tell ya to do, then one o'these girls gets a bullet to the back of their brain.” Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, letting his hands slip down, cupping and squeezing the heroine’s large breasts "Like I said, I have an insurance policy.”
BlueBelle draws in a deep breath, her chest heaving against the metallic blue leotard. She shakes her head of flaming hair forlornly and slumps as her ample endowments are fondled. "I appear to be at your disposal..."
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles in her ear, giving her nipples a pinch and slight twist through the metallic blue leotard before removing his hands. "Not just my disposal, Doll. But the disposal of my guests as well.”
BlueBelle yelps as her nipple is pinched through the fabric of her leotard, briefly rattling her chair as she strains against it. "Fiend!"
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles and moves to stand in front of her, hand patting the crotch of her leotard before moving it aside, and finally withdrawing the intruder he placed there "Call me what ya will, Doll. I'd prefer Master, but beggars can't be choosers."
BlueBelle looks from his face to the screen and back again, her jawline quivering. "Don't push it Max..."
Maxwell Carpenter chuckles, and puts his hand to his ear, listening a moment then nodding "Alright, Belle. It's time fer ya to go on stage" he says, moving behind you to uncuff your wrists from the chair, "and remember, defy me, or disobey, and one of those girls gets ventilated."
BlueBelle eyes him so fiercely one could almost believe her head was on fire as she shakes her hair about. She speaks through gritted teeth. "I understand. So am I to strip for your guests then..." She makes a face. "Completely?"
“Yes. Completely. And cater to whatever other...needs, they may have.” Maxwell Carpenter smirks and gives the heroine a shove toward the door.
BlueBelle stumbles through a red curtain and finds herself on a lighted stage. She blinks and as her lights adjust to the footlights she recognizes several of Empire's mafia family heads waiting for her to start. She has to remind herself about the hostages to keep from springing into real action, but instead begins to go-go dance as "Shakin' All Over" begins to play.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks and moves to the table with the top ranking Consigliere and the Don himself, keeping his eyes on the captive heroine as she starts to dance. Indeed, everyone's eyes are on her now.
BlueBelle gulps down her pride, just letting herself go to the music. She turns on the heel of an ankle boot and lets a shiver run up her spine, from rolling rump to careening chest. She gives her hair a flip and plays with the front of the metallic blue leotard.
The goons up front smirk and shout, some standing and demanding to see those breasts, others just watching and grinning widely.
BlueBelle struts about the stage and bends over, looking back at Max and his guests between spread legs, sneering once before rising up, slowly withdrawing each arm from the tight embrace of a blue sleeve. She smirks as she teases the front of the leotard up and down, her ample endowments rolling about her chest like buoys on an angry sea as she reveals them.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks and watches her, the place erupting in a cheer as the blue leotard moves down, revealing her breasts to all, one eager thug going so far as to get on stage, lips wrapped around one nipple hungrily.
BlueBelle grimaces as she looks to Max, letting the thug suckle for a moment until she gets the sign he's not really important and she shoves him away with a smirk. The leotard is pushed to her waist before she grabs the pole and spins around it, the centrifugal force making her breasts seem even more gravity defying than before.
The thug falls back off of the stage, hard, but still he grins, as all eyes are on Belle while she spins around the pole, the Don leaning over to the Consigliere, who leans in and whispers something to Max.
BlueBelle bicycles her legs as she spins, unabashedly enjoying the freedom and power of the stage, not to mention a few minutes without the annoying vibrator. One at a time she uses the opposite foot to push off an ankle bootie, tossing them to Max.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks and catches the flying ankle booties, handing them respectfully to the Consigliere, who hands them to the Don. Then gives a glance to the dancing heroine, and crooks his finger in a "Come here" gesture.
BlueBelle's nose twitches as she smiles and struts forward in bare feet, the stage lights playing across her ample curves, what remains of her costume covering only what panties might. She leans forward, her dangling udders swaying.
The spotlights follow the heroine’s movements, as do the eyes of the thugs as she approaches. "The Don wants a personal lapdance," Max says, smirking, "As well as to feel the velvet wet tightness of you around him."
BlueBelle tries to control her natural instinct to want to throttle them both as she steps from the stage to the Don's tabletop, her hips continuing to gyrate. She raises her hands overhead as she lets another shiver to the music run up her spine. The leotard slides from her shimmying hips, down her thighs, and spills over her calves to the tabletop, leaving her naked and glistening as she steps out of it.
The Don smirks widely, letting his hands run up naked thighs, fingertips brushing the glistening pout of the heroine’s sex, muttering something in Italian to his Consigliere.
BlueBelle tries not to recoil in disgust and just keeps dancing, bumping and grinding as she straddles someone's drink and lets her sex dribble into it.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks and soft laughter fills the immediate area, before the Don grips the heroine’s thighs, urging her forward to straddle his own lap.
BlueBelle swallows hard and does as requested, slowly stepping down off the table, straddling the old man's legs.
Maxwell Carpenter nods approvingly at you, watching as the Don holds onto the heroine's hips, moving her along his lap, a definite bulge in his pants pressing against the moist, naked sex. He grins widely and indicates that he wants himself inside of you.
BlueBelle tries to control the shaking of her hands as she reaches to unzip him, closing her eyes as her mind goes back to the hostages with guns at the backs of their heads, seeing it like a gun to the back of her own.
Maxwell Carpenter smirks widely, this was going much better than he even dreamed, this would surely elevate his own status in the Organization, and he still had Belle as his own plaything as well, even as she unzips the Don, and he glides himself over, and into her dark, damp depths.
BlueBelle rolls her hips as she settles down over the throbbing cock, running hands all over the Don's jacket as she settles into her seat, feigning to fondle as she searches for a gun.
He grunts, pushing himself up, guiding her hips up and down, making her ride his hard, thick shaft. The Don himself unarmed the heroine finds in her "fondling."
BlueBelle feels helpless to do anything but fuck the old man, her warm wet tunnel sliding up and down his shaft, caressing it as her hips gyrate to the pulse of the music still.
His grin is wide as he bucks up under the heroine, a sheen of sweat on his face and forehead as his hands grip her large, round bottom, lips attaching to a bouncing nipple before him.
BlueBelle bounces up and down, biting back on her rage, trying to think of a way out of this humiliation even as the cock of the greasy man inside her begins to jerk. She suddenly stands, leaping up and over his chair in a spray of sweat and other fluids, yanking his necktie tight as she holds him between herself and Max. "Release those girls or I snap the Don's neck!"
The air is suddenly filled with tension, after the Don jerks and unloads his seed inside of you, taken by surprise by the sudden stand and leap of the heroine, the clicking of several semi automatics pointed at her, Max himself drawing two .45's from shoulder holsters.
“Whatcha think yer doin, Slut!? Yer outnumbered and there ain't no way you'd get outta here alive if ya hurt tha Don!”
“Release those hostages! I mean it! I'll kill him!” BlueBelle realizes she may not be able to escape, but she holds out hope she can get the hostages released if she can make them believe her threat.
The Don chokes and gags, his face starting to turn red as Max lowers one of his guns, to put his hand to his ear. "Let tha hostages go, we have a situation here."
BlueBelle's knuckles whiten as she tugs on the tie, a naked redhead with a lot of moxie as she demands, "Show me! Now!"
Maxwell Carpenter grimaces as the Don is forced back a little from the heroines tug, growling as he fishes out his phone and shows video footage of the thugs releasing the hostages.
BlueBelle glances at the phone and back to the thugs, finally letting her eyes meet those of Max as she backs away. "I'll release the Don outside... just don't try anything... and nobody will get hurt..."
“Tha hell makes ya think I'm gonna let ya walk outta here. Yer makin a mistake by pissin me off!” Maxwell Carpenter eyes narrow as he picks up his other gun, aiming both at the heroine, even through the captive Don.
BlueBelle blinks and wonders if she is just might be giving Max an opportunity to become the new Don by killing her and the old Don all at once. She shoves the old man toward Max and runs for the door, weaving in and out of the tables.
Maxwell Carpenter is taken by surprise by the weight of the old man being shoved into him, he growls and fires off a shot towards the fleeing heroine, hitting a lieutenant instead. He mutters a curse and rushes after her, calling his security as well.
BlueBelle cringes as the bouncer at the door raises his gun at her. She lowers a shoulder to tackle him, steeling herself to being shot in the process, but a flash of steel removes the gun hand at the wrist before it can pull the trigger. Belle catches the falling gun and sprays shots behind her as blood sprays everywhere. She and the shadow ninja escape out the door. "Thanks, Yumi."
Maxwell Carpenter is following when the gun hand is lopped off, the blood spray missing the heroine during her escape and covering the expensive, previously immaculately clean suit. The retreating Belle and Yumi can hear Max's scream of rage from inside the club.
BlueBelle and the ninja dive into the back of the DDSTV limo as it wheels to the curb outside the club. Belle yells, “Go Tsunami, go!” Yumi grins and nods. “Good timing.”
Maxwell Carpenter grimaces and clutches at his wounds, having taken a few of the bullets fired off from Belle's shots, one in the shoulder, another in the chest.
BlueBelle slumps into the seat in the back of the DDSTV limo as it whisks them away. Yumi explains, "Sara find you, but til hostages released we not able to move. Tank goodness Ma Belle okay!"
Maxwell Carpenter runs out of the club as the DDSTV limo squeals away, his eyes bloodshot, still alive despite being shot in the chest. He watches it leave, straight razor in his left hand, the head of the bouncer rolling onto the street "This ain't over, Belle. Not by a long shot."