Grosse Point Professional Chapter 10

[smeagol92055.livejournal.com]

Fandom: Grosse Point Blank/ The Professional
Title: Grosse Point Professional Chapter 10
Author: Smeagol92055
Characters: Léon, Martin Blank
Category: Crossover
Rating: R (Language, Violence)
Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen either of the films...
Summary: Martin takes care of business while Léon does much the same... to a Fed stupid enough to try to take him down alone.
Word Count: 279
Disclaimer: I don't own either Grosse Point Blank or The Professional; this work is intended as an homage only and is not for personal gain or monetary benefit.  Keep lawyers in check plz.
Author’s Note: You might think this is out of character for Léon in this chapter, but remember, the only part we saw of him was the piece that was tempered by Mathilda; he's a stone-cold killer who won't think twice about taking out a potential threat.

 

The plane accelerated smoothly and left the ground. Léon relaxed a bit and checked the aisle. Right after he had gotten seated, a couple of government-types had boarded and seated themselves flanking him; one to the rear, three rows back, and one to the side, across the aisle in the window seat. .45s, usually forbidden on flights even for feds, bulged at their waists, their cheap off-the-rack suits hastily covering them as they sat.

 

Léon fought a small grin; two feds? That was all? He could have taken them both out during the flight without anyone even noticing if he wanted to. Instead, he relaxed against the seat. Whatever this was, it was all part of the plan, obviously. Even though the flight would only last about an hour, a movie was starting; Léon watched to keep himself from killing the spooks.

 

                                                *            *            *

           

            Martin finished binding his ribs in the truck stop bathroom and set about fashioning a splint for his shattered forearm. Wincing at the excruciating pain, he finished tying off the splint and gingerly tested his shoulder. Good; he had at first thought the entire arm was done for, but his shoulder had merely been popped out of its socket when he slammed into the rock. Putting it back in place was painful, but necessary; a dislocated limb was a dangerous thing; blood could pool in the hollow from a severed artery and could later poison you.

 

With a shaking hand, Martin flattened the cheap map out on the faucet. Illinois. Great. I’ve only come one state east.

If they know that I’m headed to New Jersey… then I have to go somewhere else. Obviously, Marcella is dead; that’s something I’m gonna have to deal with later. Right now, I’ve got to get my own ass out of the path they think I’m taking. Go somewhere different. Maybe… He traced his grubby finger along the map east.  Boston. I can work with that.

After folding up the map and throwing his ruined clothes in the trash, Martin left the bathroom, clad in new jeans, a flannel shirt, workboots and a trucker hat.

 

                                                *            *            *

 

            The flight landed at JFK a little after three; within ten minutes, Léon stepped out of a bathroom stall wearing one of the suits of the unlucky Fed who had actually tried following him through the crowd. His lanky arms and legs were too long for the suit, and it rode up in the crotch unmercifully, but it was a disguise, at least. Plus, it never hurt to have the comforting weight of a gun riding on your hip.

            The grizzled cleaner stepped out onto the sidewalk and hailed a cab. Little Italy was waiting.

Comments

[auberus.livejournal.com]

I just read all ten chapters in one sitting.... fantastic! There's not nearly enough Grosse Point Blank fic out there, and finding that this one is not only well-written but beautifully characterized was a joy. Thank you for sharing -- I'm really enjoying this! (insert obligatory 'please update soon' comment here)

[smeagol92055.livejournal.com]

ha ha, I'm glad you like it.