Life recently had been a boring routine; a daily ritual that seemed to be going on endlessly. Adrián would wake up, bare torso chilly as he had gotten the habit of kicking his sheets off of him throughout the night, only to crawl lazily into a scalding hot shower, his thoughts going from what he'd have for dinner that evening to his classes. Recently he'd been thinking as to whether or not his students would pass the exams coming up a week and a half from now, which would lead him onto Christmas break. He was actually looking forward to it this year, considering his older brother planned on flying from Spain to visit with his wife and two daughters, finally getting the chance to see his brother's quaint New York City lifestyle.

To think the twenty-eight year-old Spanish immigrant had been living here for eleven years now and not once had anyone from back home visited the States.

Today was a day like every other, or at least that was what Adrián was led to believe as he locked his apartment door behind him that day, half an hour before he needed to be at the school where he spent most of his time. His morning routine had gone as usual, as boring as that may be, and he was now going to take the bus into Manhattan, where he would get his caffeine at the Starbucks a street down from East Side Community High School. Everything went according to plan and so did most of his day.

It was roughly six o'clock at night when things turned around, the Spanish man's day going from ordinary to not-so ordinary... all of which in a matter of seconds. Adrián had just finished grading essays, most of which averaging at C's while the rest were scattered all over the board, from one A+ to three that had failed miserably. Really, it was sad to know how little kids these days seemed to care about their grades, even if they were months away from graduation... His students' grades weren't what was out of the ordinary that seemingly fine day though, not in the slightest.

He had gotten on the bus that would lead him back to his apartment in Queens, sitting quietly in a seat for a few minutes as the ride started. Everything was as it should be, with the bus only half-full.

There was a mother and her two children sitting in seats not too far from Adrián's. In front of him was a brown-haired woman approximately his age and beside him was an old African-American lady, sixty at the very least. There was a stern-looking business man talking on his cell phone, seeming to be in the midst of a conflict with a client of his. And then there was a seemingly ordinary man, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a gray sweatshirt a few sizes to big.

That was the man that changed Adrián's quiet, ordinary day into a chaotic mess.

In one gut-twisting motion the driver took a turn, which made the two children yelp slightly as they winced closer to their mother. Adrián himself had bumped his shoulder on the window with the force of the turn, but his attention was currently on the man in the gray sweatshirt as he got to his feet, a twisted look in his dark gray eyes, his messy black hair falling in greasy waves to his shoulders.

”Don't even think about calling the police,” were his first words as he glanced at the stern business man, who seemed to be dumbfounded at the fact that his cell phone was no longer functioning.

"Esto no puede ser bueno." the Spanish man quietly told himself, speaking in his native tongue. He didn't attempt to do anything however, not knowing just how severe the circumstances were. He could have a gun on him and an innocent victim could be killed. No, no good at all could come out of this.

”We're going to take a little... detour.” he added menacingly.

Esto no puede ser bueno. = This can't be good.

Because she'd used the jaguar to escape from a robbery recently Cosmina had taken to using public transport for a while. She didn't think anyone had seen her and Effigy escape in the gray vehicle but better safe than sorry. For another couple of weeks she would take taxis and ride buses until she was sure that the cops had forgotten about the heist. As such she was on a bus at that very moment. She'd taken care of what few errands she had to run in town. The bus was mostly empty. At the last stop they'd only picked up one more passenger. He was obviously some form of Hispanic or Latino but beyond that Cosmina was unable to discern.

He settled into the seat behind her and the bus was off. No one really talked that much. It was quiet. The only noise to be heard was a business man chattering away on his cell phone. This was fine with Cosmina. She sat in her seat and smiled cheerfully. At least she did so until the bus driver took a harsh turn and amongst the various reactions the business man seemed puzzled about his phone. Cosmina noticed this as the man in the sweatshirt that she hadn't been paying attention to told him not to try and call the cops.

What were the odds that a cell phone would go out at precisely the moment a pair of hijackers took over a bus? It had to be more than a lucky coincidence for the pair of them. Oh yes there had to be a pair. The gray sweatshirt had only stood up after the bus driver had taken the sharp turn. The bus driver hadn't required any pressuring. The driver was in on it with the man in the sweatshirt. Cosmina disliked betting but she would put money on one of them having a gun, likely the man in the sweatshirt.

If she'd been orchestrating a hijacking and she only had one gun the man working the isle would be the one she would give it to. He could move more quickly and freely than the driver could. If someone decided to be brave then gray sweatshirt could deal with it more efficiently while the driver kept driving. Cosmina didn't like opposing criminals unless she was paid. This would be a free job and she hated that. However, she wasn't about to let herself get taken hostage. While gray sweatshirt walked up the isle toward the front of the bus Cosmina moved slowly and deliberately to the edge of her seat where she would have a better shot at intercepting him before he could draw his gun.

Adrián had seen the amount of crimes rise these past few weeks, but then again it was nearing Christmas time and thieves were coming out of hiding, taking advantage of the busy malls and boutiques to strike and steal some pricey goods. He wasn't one to watch the News religiously, but he wasn't completely unaware of the world around him either. Of course, maybe the fact that he didn't watch television often was the reason behind why he had never expected to find himself trapped inside of a bus, a potentially armed man with an obvious agenda completely in control.

Then, Adrián realized as he glanced around briefly, there was the fact that there were other people in the bus along with him – including two kids, both of which well under the age of ten years. He wasn't a superhero like some of the New York City Mutants, but he wasn't about to let a bunch of innocent people get killed either.

Discretely, Adrián began to watch what was going on with a keen eye, his face taking on a dumbfounded look that was, although unknown to the population of this bus, all a facade. He did not want to let the hijackers in on what was going on in his mind.

So, what did he know about the situation: He knew his powers wouldn't come in handy in this situation, unless he was to peck the hijackers with his eagle's beak, stabbing both eyes out, but that wasn't something he was about to do. Instead, he would just sit quietly, trying to find a way out of this without anyone getting hurt. He had brains on his side, something he doubted the hijackers had.

Something else he had was ten years' worth of kickboxing experience, which could come in handy if he planned his moves perfectly. Of course, if any of the men were armed, which Adrián assumed was the case, he understood that his kickboxing would seem like a useless joke to them.

What Adrián didn't know was that he wasn't alone in this. The woman in front of him had been thinking along the same lines as the Spanish immigrant and she was a lot more experienced in this sort of thing than he would ever be.

The bus kept on driving further North, in a direction that was leading them far from where the bus was supposed to stop. For a few minutes things were quiet, with the occasional mumbles of the two kids, quietly asking their mother what was going on, but the tension was quickly rising and it was only a matter of time before someone cracked under the pressure. That came in the form on the angry businessman who, Adrián had noted, didn't look like the type of man who was used to being controlled by somebody else.

He got to his feet and, being a mere seat away from where the man in the gray sweatshirt was standing, pounced. Adrián knew that was a bad idea the second the hijacker reached for his pocket, evidently good when it came to reflexes. Before the businessman had even thrown a single punch, a shot was fired, hitting Mr. Businessman in the shoulder. The kids screamed and beside him, the elderly African-American woman cursed, looking horrified.

Adrián rubbed the back of his neck.

”Let that be a lesson,” the hijacker yelled threateningly as he eyed every single passenger, the shot man groaning on the ground at his feet. ”I'm the one in control; you will do as I say!” Everyone was quiet and there was a man bleeding on the floor. Adrián hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly.

While Cosmina worked on getting into position without being noticed one of the passengers provided an excellent distraction. The business man whose phone had been rendered useless tried to play the hero. He stood and charged gray sweatshirt. Cosmina almost sneered at him. What a fool to boldly charge someone who was very likely armed. Gray sweatshirt proved her right by drawing and very quickly firing on the man. It didn't matter to Cosmina. She'd put herself where she wanted to be during the all together brief exchange.

Gray sweatshirt yelled about him being in charge while the businessman groaned on the floor. It didn't appear to be a fatal wound. At least not yet. If he wasn't treated soon it would be fatal. For now however he would live. The gun complicated matters but not overmuch. As long as she had an opening it would be simple enough to take the gun from him. Once she had the gun it would all be over. That is unless he also happened to be a mutant. Cosmina could deal with that too. Guns did still kill mutants. Well, there were a few mutants who were protected from gun shots by their mutations. Not a likely issue. Something to consider should it prove true.

Cosmina's breath exited her body in a quiet woosh. Gray sweatshirt was very nearly at her side now. His gun hand was right beside her. It would be easy enough to grab the gun and wrench it from his unsuspecting hand. This hijacker was all to eager to assert his authority. He fired without hesitation. He'd used a gun before and planning had probably gone into this. In her estimation though he was making a mistake in yelling and trying to assert himself like that. The gun would have been enough. Yelling like that was only bound to drive more people to the same action the businessman had taken. Fear was a useful but unpredictable tool. It made some people meek but it made others brave and eager to stamp out the source of their fear.

The gun was just level with Cosmina. She took her chance. Her hand darted out and grabbed the man's gun hand. He glared hard at her.

"Let go!"

Cosmina shot out of her seat to get a better grip. As best she could she kept the gun pointed away from others but it didn't really matter to her if someone was injured. Gray sweatshirt fired in an attempt to get her to let go. The bullet hit nothing save a window. A second shot ripped through Cosmina's side. She winced at the pain but continued her struggle for the gun.

Everything was happening so fast, with the first bullet fired, hitting the businessman square in the shoulder. From there, everything seemed to escalate, which included the tension and fright the people around him radiated, merely helping the armed criminal in his quest for dominance over the population of the bus. Of course, Adrián was managing to stay cool without a problem, but deep down inside that same fear was beginning to leak slightly, threatening to overtake him if he wasn't careful.

For now however, that hint of fear was under wraps as he watched the action taking its course, the man in the gray sweatshirt walking along the isle as he made eye contact with every single passenger that was aboard.

That was when Adrián noticed the brunette in front of him and her plans to try and be the hero in this situation that could go insanely wrong at a second's notice. He wanted to whisper to her to back off, that she would merely end up like Businessman over there, but he didn't. Instead, he glanced at Businessman again, still muttering and cursing to himself as he bled slowly on the floor. Adrián didn't have a lot of experience when it came to the domain of medicine, but he knew that a shot wound like his wasn't a fatal one, and that there was still time to get him to a hospital – of course, they didn't have an eternity either, which meant they'd have to work fast.

The armed man was now approaching his seat, although he would still arrive to the woman in front of him first. Adrián could make a move before she did, maybe save her from the shot that was most likely to come if she did act, but the opportunity never came. He also realized that, as the woman grabbed a hold of the firearm, she didn't seem to be a complete stranger to them. She knew what she was doing for the most part.

At least until she was shot in the side, which was when, on instinct, Adrián decided to step in.

In one swift motion the Spanish man got to his feet and, before any type of gun could be drawn on him, he kicked the man in the gray sweatshirt square in the gut, the force of a skilled kick-boxer evident as the criminal was sent sprawling to the ground a few feet in front of him, the gun dropping from his grasp.

Adrián didn't even hesitate as he took a hold of the revolver, holding it down and at his side. He wasn't about to let any type of accident happen; shooting someone was not what he had planned for his evening, thank you very much.

”Take care of her,” he ordered to the African-American woman, his Spanish accent evident as he took forward, aiming to see just what kind of damage he had done to the man in the gray sweatshirt. ”Son of a–” he was mumbling under his breath as his partner yelled from the driver's seat, telling him to get his act together.

Cosmina was wounded but by no means was she an invalid. The guy who had been sitting behind her took to his feet and delivered a kick to gray sweatshirt right after she'd been shot. It was a good kick and a well trained one to Cosmina's savate trained eye. Whoever he was he had sense in him. The first thing he did the moment the gun was loose of gray sweatshirt's hand was pick it up. In an accented voice he ordered an African-American woman to look after Cosmina. Cosmina waved the woman off with a smile. There were other things to be done.

"Don't worry about me. Someone grab that guy's cell phone and tell me if it still works."

The answer, after a minute or two was no. The answer was the same for other such devices. They had no way to contact the police, even if Cosmina didn't want to she was on a bus full of normals that would want to contact them. With the lack of cell phone service established Cosmina had to assume that one of the hijackers was blocking it some how. The man could handle gray sweatshirt. It was difficult for a mutant to hold such a block during combat unless they were practiced at it. No, Cosmina's was now focused on the driver.

Thankfully Cosmina had two things on her side. One, she had a knife in her purse that she dug out and flicked open. Two, she was quite capable of acting while wounded. She knew how long she had before she had to cease activities and it should be just enough time to get the bus stopped and the police called. With her knife fisted in one hand and the other hand pressed to her wound to slow the bleeding Cosmina moved out into the isle. Gray sweatshirt was still down on the floor, muttering an expletive.

Cosmina moved as quickly as she could around the prone man toward the front of the bus. Once she was even with the driver she pressed the blade of the pocket knife to his throat.

"Stop the bus, now. Your partner won't last much longer now that his gun's been taken. Pull over and let us use our cell phones again."

She was glaring hard at the man and the blade was pressed so close that just a tiny bit more pressure would draw blood. Cosmina's side ached and bled from the bullet wound but she ignored it. She'd survived worse wounds.

To be perfectly honest, Adrián wasn't sure what to make of the brunette's refusal for help when she was evidently wounded. Of course, she wasn't a complete wreck like the businessman who had most likely never seen a real life crime taking place in his life, but he still felt as though she shouldn't be taking a leadership role. Which by the way, she was evidently doing at this point, asking anyone in general to see if the hijacker's cell phone worked. Somebody went to check – Adrián didn't pay attention who, exactly – and the result was that no, not even the hijacker's cell phone was working.

In a way, the Spanish man had already known the answer; cell phones these days didn't just stop functioning, and by the looks of it the businessman was a wealthy man who did not buy a cell phone that would fall apart upon purchase. Still, Adrián did the same as everyone else, checking his cell phone in order to see if he had any service, evident in his mind that it was a waste.

It was as though his battery had died, when all along he knew fully well that he had fully charged it this morning and it had been off most of the day as he'd been teaching a class.

Adrián's attention at this point wasn't on his useless cell phone however. He had walked all the way up to Gray Sweatshirt, who was still clutching at his gut painfully, cursing and fussing all the while. It wasn't going to be so hard to deal with him, which Adrián would do for the time being. He had a feeling the brunette would be perfectly fine handling the driver, as she was already on the move, one hand clutching her side as the other held a sharp knife. Adrián nodded at her as she passed by, a form of good luck.

He wasn't even sure she'd noticed, and even if she had, it could have meant anything at all to her. He didn't really mind, though, after all, he had more important things to consider at this point. Sighing, his attention reverted back to Gray Sweatshirt, who, at this point in time, had started to get up. Adrián chuckled slightly. The hijacker was probably defenseless without his trusty firearm, which, by the way, Adrián still had in his hand.

“You're trying to act all high and mighty, Latino man! I bet you have no idea how to fire a gun! You look too pussy to do it, anyway.” Had his mother ever taught him not to talk to the man holding the gun that way? Adrián raised the revolver slightly so that it was pointed at the now standing man's right leg. His finger put a slight pressure on the trigger. Did he really want to know if Adrián could fire or not? Sure, kickboxing was what he'd grown up doing, not shooting lowlife hijackers, but it couldn't be that hard; right? Adrián's features remained neutral, as though he was wearing a stone-hard mask. He wasn't going to let this bastard think the man holding the gun had no clue just how to use it, that was for sure.

His dark eyes glanced over at the front for a split-second – he noticed bleeding brunette holding the knife to driver's throat. His attention focused on Gray sweatshirt again, figuring she had the situation under control, at least for the time being.

“Relax, lady!” the driver hissed, “Even if you hurt me, you and all of your little friends back there will die.” he added. Under his coat was strapped a bomb; a bomb that was set to go off the moment his heart stopped. The thing about the ability to control technology was that you could pretty much do anything with it.

Cosmina heard the taunt from gray sweatshirt to the man. Latino man as gray sweatshirt dubbed him. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the two men. Gray sweatshirt's taunt apparently hadn't had an effect on the Latino. He had raised the gun and put steady pressure on the trigger. Not enough to cause it to go off but enough to show that he was serious about his intent to fire if he had to. Yes, Cosmina could tell that he wouldn't shoot unless he had to. He was obviously one of those good guy types.

She returned her attention to the driver. He didn't seem all that threatened. In fact he told her that even if she hurt him she and all the rest would die anyway. Cosmina glanced within the confines of the man's jacket. A bomb resided there. It took her a minute to realize the problem but she figured it out from the bomb's unique construction and the man's words. Cosmina swore within the confines of her mind. Idiots had to go and make this more difficult didn't they?

"We've got trouble!" she shouted back toward the man, "This guy has strapped himself to a bomb and it looks like it's rigged to go off if he dies!"

Cosmina turned so that the Latino couldn't see her face and she smirked at the driver. When she spoke her voice was quiet, too quiet for anyone but the two of them to hear.

"But you know...I don't have to kill you in order to hurt you. So pull over and let everyone off. If you want to go blow something up, do it by yourself you chicken."

People like this were idiots. Killing yourself and other people to accomplish a goal was stupid. Once you were dead you had to wait to revive before you could continue your work. You lost a lot of time that way. That lost time could be spent in any number of ways to further one's goals. Dying for your cause was only to be attempted if you had no other recourse and that was pretty rare.

Trouble, the brunette had stated loudly, earning a few panicked whispers and whimpers from the surrounding people as Adrián inwardly cursed, wondering what exactly he'd done to deserve all of this. Honestly, holding someone at gun-point while knowing a bomb could go off at any moment wasn't exactly something a good, innocent Spanish teacher deserved, not even once in a while! Still, he did not lose his cool as the seconds ticked by and slight commotion happened in front; as if the brunette was whispering something that was obviously inaudible to Adrián and the rest of the passengers.

The businessman groaned and Adrián glanced his way, realizing that he was bleeding quite a lot and that they would be here a little while longer than Adrián would have anticipated when Gray Sweatshirt had first gotten to his feet minutes ago.

How quickly situations could change. Adrián only wished that somebody, anybody could go and see if that man wasn't on the edge of death. It's tiring how in moments such as this, most people lost all common sense, uselessly waiting for a wounded woman with a bullet in her side and a man who had no experience as far as guns were concerned to do their thing and safely get them out of this hellish mess. “So,” Adrián said as he moved his gun slightly higher so that it was closer to Gray Sweatshirt's hip, rather than his foot. “Your partner strapped a bomb to himself and you're uselessly waiting, a gun pointed at you. If you ask me, Pendejo, it would be a pretty good time to tell me your story and why you've got a bunch of people, including two innocent kids, unsure as to whether or not they're facing death over here?”

He doubted he'd get an answer, but it was worth a shot, right? He glanced at the bleeding brunette woman in front, hoping she wasn't doing half bad. His attention was back to the man as his finger pressed a little more pressure to the trigger – still not enough to actually call a bullet to go off, however.

“I don't have to say anything to you, bastard!” Right, Adrián had assumed as much. He took a step forward and, like the coward he appeared to be, the hijacker who had previously seemed to be in control, backed away so that the same distance as before was between them again.

Meanwhile, the driver sat comfortably in his seat, strapped in bombs he had so carefully fabricated to explode upon his death. Or, if he chose to do so, he could always activate them whenever he felt like it... It would only take one single thought and a flick of his fingers. Then, boom, the whole of the bus would be nothing but ashes and the street would most likely be a flamed mess. “Are you sure you want to do that, lady?” he murmured, although it was slightly evident in his greasy face that he did not enjoy the prospect of torture.

Pendejo = Jackass / Asshole

Cosmina had to chuckle a little. Her impromptu partner was doing very well. He was holding his own and keeping gray sweatshirt occupied nicely. Heck, he even managed to sound threatening as he demanded to know what they were up to. Of course gray sweatshirt didn't comply but Latino had done well none the less. Luck had favored her today in it's choice of partners. Moving back to the driver and his bomb. If only she could disconnect the portion of the bomb that enabled it to detonate upon his death then this would be over quickly enough. As it was she'd simply have to bluff her way through. She continued in her soft voice.

"Why shouldn't I? It's clear your quite content to kill everyone on this bus for some stupid cause. If that's the case I might as well have a little bit of fun before I die."

Cosmina grinned widely at him. She could show him the side of her that many thought disconcerting. Perhaps that would do the trick. If not, well trying a little logic on him couldn't hurt. This she said in a more normal tone of voice.

"You know, whatever it is you're trying to accomplish, it would be easier to do alive right? Because you won't get out of this with your life intact. If I don't kill you or he doesn't kill you," Cosmina nodded back to the Latino, "then someone will. Police don't take kindly to hostage situations you know. If they have to they'll consign every single one of us to death to make sure you die too. And then whatever you're trying to do will be pointless."

Her wound was still bleeding and Cosmina was starting to get light headed. She'd have to sit down soon and once she sat down she wouldn't be getting back up without effort. However she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. No, Cosmina stood proud and angry with her knife to his throat. A thought occurred to her. If she was going to play the good guy then she might as well do it right.

"I'd suggest everyone get to the back of the bus if possible."

That was the safest place to be if this nutcase actually detonated his bomb while they were still on the bus. They stood a better chance of surviving the blast back there. Not much better but a chance was a chance. Cosmina would have retreated there herself but she wasn't about to give up yet. She had a lot to do and couldn't waste time waiting to come back to life.

Adrián was a school teacher, of course he could be threatening when he wanted to be. Of course, he was never using his fullest capacity of intimidation, or else angry parents would have his head, and the school board would have his job. Just some slight threats got students to behave quite nicely, really. That wasn't the big picture however, the fact that they were trapped in a bus with an exploding man and two bleeding victims was the big picture. Adrián didn't like the big picture. He did not like it at all, actually.

His job wasn't to be overly concerned about the bomb however, what with the brunette already on it, and seeming to be making some slight progress as the Spanish man managed to catch some inaudible whisperings coming from both Brunette and Driver. No, his job was to be concerned about the man he was holding at gunpoint and to perhaps know just where they were being taken. These two asses hadn't hijacked a bus for the sake of entertaining themselves for an evening. There was something more to the story and Adrián planned on eventually getting the answer out of one of the two men – one way or another.

Now don't get me wrong, violence wasn't Adrián's favorite thing, even if he had done kickboxing ever since High School, but if it meant they could all get out of here relatively unscathed, not to mention alive, then violence would maybe have to be inflicted upon Gray Sweatshirt... Adrián was only going to use it as last resort however. Well, okay so technically his last resort was a shot to the chest, but he wasn't even going to think about committing such act. Even in self-defense, Adrián wasn't too enthused about potentially shooting someone.

“Oh, I don't wish to kill anyone, at least not just yet. This bomb isn't meant for you or anyone on this bus. If it has to come down to death however, well darling I won't think twice.” the driver was saying to Cosmina, evidently a plan was in his mind; a plan he had spent a long while fleshing out. There was still a part of him that was fearful of what this woman could do however, what with that tone of voice she had. It sounded innocent; soft and... good, but there was an underlining edge that did not set him at ease. He tried hard not to show this however. He had to keep driving – they were almost there. “Hostage situation? Explain to me how anyone would know about a hostage situation? Thanks to my little trick, electronics won't work and... well, every car, ever person in the city won't care about a seemingly harmless bus passing by, aren't I correct?”

A few feet away Adrián could only make out a few of the words the driver was saying, and even then it wasn't enough to really paint a big picture of the on-going conversation. Besides, he had his own piece of work to work with. Gray Sweatshirt and the fact that he was taking another step back, getting closer to the front of the bus... away from the general population of the passengers on the bus. Adrián fallowed, keeping the same distance between them. Each time he took a step, so did Adrián, his gun pointed squarely at the hijacker's knee.

The bright side of this little game was that he was getting closer to the driver and the Brunette woman – he was managing to hear more and more of the conversation, able to know a little more what was going on.

That was when the Brunette suggested that everyone moved as far back as they could; that was actually a good idea, even if most of the passengers had already done so over the course of the past few minutes. Adrián didn't move however, his dark orbs still staring at the man in the gray sweatshirt. Seriously, the Spanish man was getting slightly bored of the lack of progress in this situation. “The police will be after you for this, you know. Do you know how much jail time you can get for holding all of these people hostage? For shooting two innocent people? ...A few years, at the very least.” Maybe that would be a better way to go – make him afraid of the authorities... maybe he'd turn on his partner. After all, the driver did seem to be the one in charge of this little parade.

“Screw the cops! We'll be miles from the Med–” he was cut off however by the driver, who yelled at his partner to shut up, and that he was a useless pile of crap. Well, Adrián could at least deduct that this could have something to do with medicine, media, meditation, or anything that began with “Med”. It was a start, at least. Hopefully he could dig further into this man's brain.

Cosmina listened to the driver's words. She was still smiling but behind that she processed what he was saying. However there was one falsehood in his words. One thing he probably hadn't taken into account.

"You say the police won't know? There were shots fired. Even at six in the evening the streets of New York are full of enough people that I can assure you people saw which bus those shots came from and called the cops. They know and they're looking. I can warrant you that."

At that particular moment the warble of a police siren sounded nearby. Whether it was meant for the run away bus or something else was irrelevant. It would serve to hammer home her point. The driver snapped at his partner after he responded to a barb from the Latino. Cosmina softened her voice again to the point where it would be nearly inaudible to others. The Latino was edging closer but she knew her distances and she could manage another threat before he got close.

"Besides, say you survive this. Say you manage what you've set out to do. You can go where ever you like. I'll find you and when I do it won't be pretty. There won't be enough left of you to identify when I'm done."

Cosmina's smile and soft sweet tone never wavered. It sounded for all the world like she was simply trying to persuade him not to do whatever he was trying to do. She'd spent years cultivating that sweet and happy persona. For the longest time she'd been a very angry person. However she'd gotten over it long ago. She dealt in death and suffering most of the time. There was no room for being angry. It was better to wear a smile. A smile was misleading. People trusted someone that smiled.

Not that Cosmina particularly wanted trust. It didn't matter to her whether people trusted her or not. No trust was simply easy to take advantage of and Cosmina only endeavored to build it when it could be useful. In this case however it was better to be frightening she thought. Cosmina could tell she'd scared him. All she had to do was push him a little bit.

It hadn't crossed the driver's mind that people could have heard the shots, but he didn't let that show on his face, keeping his cool as he drove on, a knife still rubbing slightly against his throat, possibly leaving a slight red mark that, with a slight amount of added pressure, would leak blood. He didn't say anything, willing to let himself believe that this insane woman wielding a knife to his throat was wrong, but then he heard the sirens... Shit... was the single thought going through his mind as he gathered speed, the obvious anxiety now on his greasy, unshaven face.

Now, back to Adrián. He knew that they were a few paces closer to getting out of this hellish bus ride and to be quite frank, Adrián also knew for a fact that from now on, he'd be driving his motorcycle from his apartment to school and then back again. He did not want a repeat of today's events happening ever again – well, that is if they made it out of here alive, all in one piece, mind you. Adrián couldn't be sure if they would though; truth be told, he wouldn't bet his life on it. Not that it would be so bad if he did. It was one of those situations where betting his life on something wouldn't actually matter, considering the fact that he would be perfectly dead if they didn't make it out of this alive. Ironic, don't you think? Right, concentrate.

He had caught the sirens too, a few seconds ago and to be perfectly honest, he hoped the police were good at their job and that this would all be over in ten minutes. Then, if he got lucky and didn't need to go through all sorts of questions, from both the cops and the press, he would be going home, take a hot shower and then catch up on the book he'd been reading in his spare time these past three evenings.

As fate would have it, he probably wouldn't get what he wanted. Life today was just crappy like that.

Things weren't going the driver's way either; not in the slightest. Nobody was supposed to have been shot! What a fool Bear (It probably wasn't his actual name, it was just the name Gray Sweatshirt had introduced himself as when the two men had met a few months prior to this date) was for doing this! What a fool he was for thinking that kid could pull off what he was setting out to do! Fools, every last one of them! And now this Brunette was threatening him? Threats that she would find him, no matter where he went? He simply grunted, certain she was merely bluffing. It wasn't as if she was some sort of mercenary or something... she was too... feminine and... pretty for that.

Still, as the driver continued to drive, hearing sirens in the distance and the threats Brunette Lady had made still floating around in his head, he was definitely somewhat scared... Okay, more than somewhat.

A part of Adrián too, was scared. Scared for the innocent people that were scattered around at the very back of the bus, and for the bleeding businessman that had been carried by someone to be treated as best as possible in the current circumstances somewhere in one of the backseats.

Adrián was going to keep going with his plan until the police got close enough to take over. “So the good doctors didn't do you justice? Is that why you're set on exploding a hospital? Or maybe you have a thing against the media? What, a reporter said something you didn't like? I'm not a big fan of tabloids myself, but don't you think bombs are pushing it a little too far?” he went on, his Spanish accent even more evident as he spoke without thinking so much as to how he was saying his words, but more to the actual words themselves and the response he'd get with them.

“I'm not the one with the mastermind plan. Jimmy's the one that's paying me big bucks to–” Oh, oh! Adrián was doing more progress, but unfortunately 'Jimmy' was cutting off his little sidekick again. “Shut up! SHUT UP!” And then there was some cursing and swearing involved as the bus took another abrupt turn. Adrián kept his balance, the hand that was firmly holding on to the revolver not even flinching.

The driver didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Cosmina watched his face transform as he realized her words were true and he heard the sirens. The man sped up. He was nervous now. Now that he realized that the police would indeed be after him, as trailing sirens did seem to indicate, he hurried. Whatever he had planned he wanted to get it done before the police interfered and stopped him. Cosmina almost laughed at him. That is until he merely grunted at her promise.

He really didn't know her at all. That was to be expected of a stranger but it made him incredibly stupid none the less. She pressed the blade closer, just until a thin trickle of blood began to ooze down his neck. Then she began speaking in her soft voice once more. Her smile was hardly a smile anymore, just a slight curving of the lips.

"You don't believe me. To you I'm just some woman. Perhaps a beautiful woman but still a woman. You can't believe that someone that looks like I do could do something like that." the sweet pretense dropped out of her voice and her eyes blazed with anger, "If you weren't driving this bus I'd gut you right now, bomb or no."

Then just like that she was smiling again and struggling to stand. Instead of sitting she leaned hard against a pole behind the driver's seat. She put a hint more pressure on the man's neck just to remind him that she was still holding a knife to his throat, despite being weaker than usual at the moment. She spoke at normal volume again.

"Just give it up. The cops won't let you get close enough to anyone for your threat to be effective.They'll pin you down at gun point and clear people out of the area. If you don't surrender they'll shoot you and just watch you explode. You lost the minute your partner shot someone. Just go peacefully and you've got a better chance a lighter sentence."

Cosmina didn't honestly believe any of what she was saying. If the man had been smart he could have come up with an exit strategy. However he had gambled on an inexperienced idiot and had lost.

"Next time, don't work with a young moron."

Oh, the more the driver listened to this woman speak, the more he actually did believe her, especially when that sting of pain was issued from his throat and the feel of warm liquid began to slowly run down his throat. It wasn't much, but Jimmy knew it was blood and he honestly did not like that. Having someone control him the way she had control over him at this point was not a pleasurable thing. Sure, he had the bomb in his possession, a bomb that he could easily trigger, but he didn't actually want to let it go off here. He had a specific plan in mind and he absolutely needed to get to where he'd been planning on going... if he could just get this awful woman to lay off for a little while longer so he could think!

Adrián wasn't really processing what was going on with Brunette and the driver, although with the occasional words he did catch, he did know that it was pretty much a one-sided conversation and that Brunette was telling him that she 'may be a woman, but that she was capable of... something.' At least that was what he managed to process. She was probably saying that she was capable of keeping him from exploding the entire bus? She had mentioned the word bomb, after all.

Adrián didn't really bother to ask her what she was saying – quite frankly, he didn't care. As long as she didn't say or do anything that would result in all of them being killed. He did trust her though – stranger or not – she seemed to be quite capable of holding her ground; she had done well thus far.

No, he couldn't really ask her anything at this point, what with his own little problems to take care of at that moment in time.

Listening to Brunette speak, trying to convince the two men (Well, okay maybe the driver, mostly) to give up, Adrián knew it was a slim chance that he would actually listen. The Spanish man had tried a few tactics thus far, from intimidation to shear common sense and it had only made Gray Sweatshirt budge a little – not Jimmy, however. He seemed to be a lot tougher; or simply more set on doing whatever it was that he was doing. After all, he was the one that seemed to be the mastermind, as his stupid partner had stated under the pressure of Adrián's words.

“The bus is surrounded.” Adrián stated the obvious as he sneaked a glimpse out of the window, seeing all of those flashing red and blue lights around them. “Stop now, man. All of this, it isn't worth it.” he added, trying to convince Jimmy to stop – of course, he really had no idea what the situation was for Jimmy to steal a bus, and just how 'worth it' it was to him to risk the possibility of being caught.

It seemed as though he was about to find out however, as Jimmy swerved, narrowly missing a large pick-up truck driving in the opposite lane. “What the hell do YOU know about what's worth it and what isn't? You want to know what I plan on doing? My WIFE was murdered. They cut her off life support... I'm only seeking revenge... They killed her.” Okay, so Adrián wasn't married and hadn't been in a very serious relationship in his past, so he couldn't relate, but all of this started to make just a slight bit more sense. He was crazy out of angst, love and the desire for revenge on the people who, to him, had taken his wife away.

Still, it didn't really explain why he'd had to hijack a bus to do it, not to mention why he had to bomb the actual Hospital...

It was at that moment that the bus came to a sudden halt and the man who had lost his wife crashed under the pressure at last, shaking from head to toe as he wailed; crying like the two kids in the backseat had been doing for the past half hour Adrián and the brunette woman, who was still bleeding, had been trying to save everyone.

Adrián wasn't sure just what happened next; he did know that a few officers had managed to get in, one way or another, and that the gun that had been in his grasp had fallen to the ground when he'd known the fight had been won and he wouldn't need to use it. He glanced at the Brunette, smiling tentatively at her. “What an interesting end to a day.” he muttered, very much glad it was all over.

Of course, now he would most likely have to answer a thousand questions twice...