Okay so. Apparently I updated last in August 2016. How freakin crazy has the last year and a half been? What a time we live in.

Troy flipped over a table next to them, sending crystal glasses shattering across the floor, the white tablecloth billowing like a sail. He ducked behind it, grabbing Kate's wrist and pulling her down with him.

She kicked off her heels with a combination of reluctance and gratitude, and reached for the pistol in her handbag.

Gunfire rang out over the sound of screams.

Three sets of large double doors behind them out onto the town hall's expansive grass lawn had been smashed open, and people were streaming out of them.

"You know they can shoot through these, right?" she asked, tapping her gun against the table. "It's like fuckin' plywood, this wouldn't stop a paintball round."

"Yes," he said. "Jesus. These are just to hide behind. I'm not getting into a firefight here with so many civilians around."

"What do we do?" she asked.

Troy lifted his head over the edge of the table to peek over the top.

"Jesus Christ," said Kate, reaching up to snatch the peaked cap off his head.

He turned to glare at her.

"Don't make yourself a target," she said. "You better lose the uniform jacket too."

He held her gaze for a moment, then shrugged the jacket off his shoulders. He was wearing a gun holster over his crisp white shirt.

"Fine," he said, sharply. "Stay down."

"Who is it?" she asked, her back against the table.

"No identifying characteristics," he said. "Wearing black. Faces covered."

"Troy, we need to get the fuck out of here," she said. "I mean both of us."

He looked down at her, frowning.

"What are we going to do, take them all on?" she asked. "I mean sure, we could. We'd just probably both die. You think anyone's called for backup yet?"

"I don't have my goddamn radio," he said.

"I mean it's not like they're subtle," she said. "Without knowing what it is they're after, I just feel like it doesn't matter who it actually is, we're both decent value targets. You okay to leave, or do you want to be a hero?"

"I need to find the Mayor," he said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked.

"You don't have to come."

"Well - fuck it. Okay," she said. "But I'm pretty sure she's pissed at me for her husband dying, and also I told Dex she paid me to spray sewage around the Row so she's probably mad at me for that too."

Troy paused. "That was you?" he asked. "And her?"

"Well we didn't do it for fun," she said. "We did it for cash. Public money, probably. I don't know how taxes work."

"It - doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "Right now. We gotta make a plan."

"Okay," she said, peeking over the table's edge. "Where did you see the Mayor last?"

He hesitated for a moment. "In the foyer, I think. But that was a while back."

"Who's here she'd want to talk to?" she asked.

He closed his eyes. "There were a couple of big donors over at the bar. The governor was going to show but had to cancel. Don't know who else."

Kate risked another glance over the table. There was a man standing in the centre of the room, swathed in black. He looked almost seven foot tall, and seemed to be directing the rest of the invaders.

"That guy's huge," she said. "Is that - Maero?"

Troy peered over the table edge. "Fuck," he said. "You could be right. That changes things. You're the one I need to get out of here."

"Uh, excuse me?" she asked. "You don't need to look after me."

"If it's the Brotherhood, they're after you," he said. "And you're wasted. You're leaving."

"I'm only a little bit wasted," she said. "I've been way worse and still shot people."

He leveled a solemn glance at her. "Just - stick with me, okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "Whatever. As long as we don't have to hunt down the Mayor this all seems pretty straightforward. Kind of a waste of makeup though."

"What?" He looked at her, bemused.

"I'm just saying, this took a while," she said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, let's just go." Kate looked around for the nearest exit. "Alright," she said. "Who're we taking out?"

"We're not taking out anyone," he said. "We're going to get you out of here."

"So you're okay with not picking up the Mayor?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. I don't think she's their number one target right now, if you get my meaning. And she's got security with her." He took another glance over the table. "Backup's on their way by now, I'm not - sure where she is, and I'm not taking taking on all of them."

Kate shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Which way are we going?"

Troy pointed, silent, at one of the smashed doors leading out onto the lawn, then towards a nearby table. He counted down on his fingers from three to one, and then made a run for the next table.

Kate's feet skidded on the polished wooden floors as she followed him, and she came to a halt just before she slid past the other side of the table.

Troy gave a pained gasp as they landed. She turned back to see him down on one knee, hand pressed to his stomach. A bloom of red was spreading quickly under his shirt.

"Troy," she whispered.

He looked up at her, then down again, pressing a hand over the wound.

"Katie," he said. "Just go. Go without me."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked.

"I think this was a stray bullet," he said. "They're not looking for us. Yet. Go. I'll be okay."

She stared at the blood seeping through his shirt. "You're not - if I leave you here, you're not going to be okay by the time backup arrives."

"I'll be fine," he said. "It's you they're after."

"I mean - I don't think that matters," she said. "You know that needs attention."

He looked down, lifting his blood-soaked fingers away from his stomach for a moment to examine them.

She lifted his arm over her shoulder and half-dragged him out of one of the doors onto the park outside. The grass was wet under her bare feet.

"The helicopters," she whispered, mostly to herself. Two sat on the lawn in front of them. She paused momentarily to fish around in her handbag for her gun, aimed, and shot both the pilots.

Troy lifted his head. "Can you fly one of those?" he asked.

She cast a worried glance towards him. "Yeah."

"Maybe we should take a car in-instead," he murmured.

"Shut up," she said, as they reached one of the helicopters. "Can you get up?"

She helped him up, and he pulled himself into the seat with a pained grunt.

"Keep pressure on it, okay?" she said, hurrying around to the other side. She ran through the steps for takeoff hastily and pulled up into the air, lurching around buildings, heading towards the hospital.

"You okay?" she asked, as they lifted off the ground.

It took a moment for him to respond. "Yeah," he said, at last.

"Does it hurt?" she continued, mindlessly, trying to keep him talking.

"It did," he said. "Now - not really." His voice was beginning to slur.

"I mean, like, it's good you didn't let me get you that drink, right?" she asked. "Alcohol thins your blood and all that."

"Yeah," he said. "'s what I like about you, Katie, you're always looking out for me."

She risked a glance towards him with a grin. "Is that a joke?"

"Yeah," he said, then paused. "Katie - I shouldn't have said no to that dance. I - I didn't think this would be the last-"

"Troy," she said. "Jesus. Don't. Please. We can talk about this later, okay?"

"I don't know if there's going to be another time - we can talk like this," he said.

"Can you just please focus on not dying?" she asked. "Honestly, I don't know what - what I'm going to do if you-"

The panel in front of her started beeping frantically, and she leaned forward trying to figure out what was wrong. A panel marked 'lock on' was lit up, encased in a brightly-lit box.

She glanced back. There was a dark shape hovering in the distance behind them, closing in rapidly.

"Fuck," she said. "Shit. Okay, we probably need to-"

A flicker of light from the helicopter behind caught her eye, and she wrenched the controls to the left, narrowly avoiding a missile as it flew past.

"Did you fucking seriously-" she began, but then glanced over at Troy. His head was slumped over his chest, his hand slipping from the bullet wound. "Troy."

His head jerked up. "Katie-"

"Please, just keep pressure on the wound," she said. "I don't have enough hands, Troy, please-"

"It's okay," he said, dully. "Katie, it's okay."
"This is obviously not okay," she snapped. "Jesus Christ, please, just don't - don't-"

Another black helicopter rose into the air behind her, cutting the route to the hospital off. She swore under her breath, then set a course out to sea.

The helicopters behind her hesitated, spreading out to cover potential routes to the hospital. They followed her, slowly, at a distance, ready to react if she made any sudden changes of direction.

Kate opened up the throttle as much as she could, trying to put distance between her and the helicopters behind. She cleared the last of the three bridges over the ocean and then she was over open water, the helicopters losing ground behind her.

She lowered the helicopter as the searchlights of the Stilwater prison district became visible through the night air.

The radio crackled into life. "Please send acknowledgement ... status and reason for approach."

She leaned forward, and flicked the communications switch. "I've got the Chief of Police here," she said. "He's badly injured. There's been an incident at the Mayor's fundraiser. I need a surgical team to meet us on the ground., and we're being pursued by air. Can you help?"

The silence seemed to stretch out while she waited for their response.

"Can you identify yourself?"

She grimaced. "This is Kate, uh, Harrison? I'm a helicopter pilot. I really need your help, there's blood everywhere."

"Is this your helicopter?"

"No, I took it from whoever attacked the town hall. I just needed to get Tr- the Chief out of there."

She took a moment to fish through her bag and toss her pistol out of the door into the sea. It wouldn't help her a lot here in any case.

"Alright. You're cleared for landing, and we've got a surgical team on standby. Prepare yourself to be searched."

She winced. "Fine," she said. "Just be ready."

She watched the pursuing helicopters back off as they approached the island. She let out a long breath as they faded into the dimness behind her.

The helicopter touched down roughly in the carpark, wobbling on the uneven ground. A swarm of officers approached the helicopter, shining torches into her face.

She closed her eyes against the light and sat back in the seat, hands in her lap. Surgical staff lifted Troy out of the seat on the other side of the helicopter.

"Get out of the vehicle, slowly, hands where we can see them."

She slid over to the edge of the seat and lowered herself slowly to the ground. She held up her hands, expecting them to be pulled behind her into handcuffs.

Instead, they took a cursory look through her handbag and handed it back to her.

"You did the right thing by bringing him here," one of them said, pulling her aside.

"There was - there were people chasing us," she said. "I didn't think they'd follow us this far."

"This island is set up to repel invasions," he said. "Have you been drinking this evening, ma'am?"

"I - well, yeah, I didn't think we'd end up getting shot at," she said. "Have you heard anything about what's going on at the fundraiser yet?"

"All we got is a 'shots fired,'" he said.

"We just got out of there as soon as we could," she said. "He wanted to look for the Mayor, but after he got shot, I just-"

"You know the Chief?" the guard asked.

"Uh - yeah, socially," she said. "I guess."

"It's fine," he said. "I always knew he had to have some kind of arrangement."

"Wow," said Kate. "Okay. Great. Thanks."

"Follow me," he said. "I'll get you set up somewhere while we get your - uh, friend - into surgery."

She sighed. "Great," she said, again. "Thanks for - everything."

She watched as Troy was carried away on a wheeled hospital bed.

"Don't worry," said the guard, earnestly. "He'll get the best care possible. Our medical wing is state of the art - because of all the injuries in the prison riots we have."

"That- that's why I brought him out here," she said. "I'd - uh, read about the surgical wing you have here. In the paper."
"We even do some reparative surgery," he continued.

"Yeah, I'd heard that too," she said. "I don't think enough people appreciate just how advanced your amenities are."

"I agree," he said enthusiastically. "But come with me - I'll find you somewhere to wait while we take care of your - friend."

She pressed her lips together in an approximation of a smile. "Great," she said. "Just great. Thanks a whole lot."

He held the door open for her as he led her into the prison building.

She took one last look up at the stone gates enclosing her as she stepped inside.