<div class="floatleft">(http://i50.tinypic.com/xang9.jpg)</div><br/><div style="text-align: left;"><strong>Name:</strong> Cori Adams<br/><strong>Title:</strong> Fucking Skills<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Seattle City Park<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> <em>Taras, Allison, Adriano </em><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center">-~<em>Continued from the Seattle City Outskirts</em>~-</div><br/>Three get away cars idled with an unrequited nature- a silent twenty-one gun salute. The lights were on and there was enough action in the city to disguise the four criminals well among their element. Hapless transients wandered to and fro, high. The smell of burnt french fries and high octane gas filled the air. The sky was glowing, for the clouds were light enough to capture the lights of the city. There was no moon. There were no stars. A roar came out of every street, as if thousands of librarians were discussing the Seattle Times. The faint glimmer of jazz music twinkled in the ambient bass of the city. There were hundreds of street performers. <br/><br/>Cori was as quiet with the rest of her team as she had been with Taras. A lucid glaze over her eyes, and a loose smile that gave away her will to live. She looked like she was about to pass out. But she was chain smoking cigarettes, so that might have been the cause behind her pale face. She had given Allison a half hug, entirely uninterested in women at the moment. She had patted her on the shoulder and congratulated her on the race. It had been backwards though, "Congratulations on finishing that fucking shoot-out." She had removed the bandages from her head, the bleeding had stopped there.<br/><br/>A fourth car was turned off and parked some distance away, on the other side of a soccer field. Clap had driven to the park from his home in Olympia to service the team. He had always been paid by Adriano, and it was usually a good investment to do surgery on sight, no matter how badly his patient was hurt. He stayed alive by limiting his clients, and he liked working with Adriano. Cori was leaning out of the back-drivers side door of Taras' sleeper car. Her right arm was extended into the car, where Clap was administering local anesthetics- and morphine into her blood stream. He had already performed his diagnostic, and he knew what was wrong with her arm. The Ulna in Cori's right elbow had suffered a fracture, and it was obstructing the nerve pathways down to her fingers. She could still move everything, so there was no muscle or tendon damage. The doctor would remove damaged material and repair as much as he could. <br/><br/>Cori had had several Tattoo's done. This was <em>much different</em>. She was trying to listen to conversation between Allison Adriano and Taras. A light dose of morphine made it hard to comprehend what they were saying, and the pain in her elbow was making her bite a small hole in her bottom lip, just enough to taste the blood. If she could taste the blood, the pain was distracting enough not to scream at whatever Clap was doing to her elbow. If she looked that direction she could only see blood on his hands and that only did well enough to make her face more pale. She muscled through the operation and focused on the team that had collected around her. <br/><br/>The only sirens were distant, and regular traffic was slow. The cop cars in Seattle were currently missing from the equation. They were almost home.<br/><br/></div>