A Hard Day's Fight-9

A Hard Day's Fight

Rating: T
Author: Aurorita248
Warnings: Slight JohnxPaul and GeorgexRingo
Summary: The loving lads from Liverpool aren't known for their great music, witty lines and pretty looks. They're actually up and coming secret agents for CL.E.F. Unfortunately, their first case on the field coincides with the big concert that they have to perform in (not to mention that Paul has to keep an eye out on his 'clean mixer' of a grandfather). It'll take all their wits, cunning, humor and snark to get out of this mess alive!
Note: Inspiration for this story is credited to Brunita with permission from this user to go ahead with this story.
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Chapter 9-The Escape, Exit and Entrance

Ringo was in trouble for many, many reasons. First was that his planned out luck parading went with him being arrested.

Second, he was being arrested and met up with the man who got him into this mess--Johnny McCartney.

Third, was that in front of him was the woman who he had to stop: Lady Magnum

And last, he had no way to protect his identity; Lady Magnum knew who he was and the clean mixer was now gonna find out the truth.

"Uh, hi there." said Ringo, waving a hello to the woman. "How are you--"

A shot was fired and it shattered the window behind Johnny McCartney's head. It shattered and glass fell onto the ground.

"Are you purposely trying to toy with me?" asked Lady Magnum.

"N-no..." Ringo replied. "Of course not."

There was some silence as Lady Magnum stared at him.

"You're supposed to be an agent of that wretched CLEF, right?" She asked.

"Well if you want to get technical about it, yeah..."

"You do know why I'm angry at them, right?"

"Cause your daddy did bad business and was gunned down?"

"Exactly...and I'm taking care of it...starting with you."

Ringo gulped...if he was gunned down, then there'd be no way for the others to find out he was kidnapped. He just prayed that she would do something that would leave her open.

Ringo saw Lady Magnum's lips curl to a smile as she prepared to fire the gun. He saw it hover in the air, the muzzle pointing to the drummer, then to the old man on the floor.

An idea struck his head....it was risky, but if it worked, it would save him!

"Excuse me," said Ringo. "Might I have a suggestion?"

"Yes?" asked Lady Magnum.

"If you're going to kill me, leave the poor man out of this." said Ringo, pointing to the man. "He did nothing wrong...all he was doing was selling autographed pictures to ladies. I mean, the Beatles are popular...and you'd probably get more haters than worshippers if I was shot. If you killed the old man, people would hate you for the rest of your life.

"Just let the old man go through the window; I can assure you that no one in their right mind would believe a very clean man like him. Don't you agree?"

Lady Magnum rubbed her chin in thought. Ringo gulped and crossed his fingers behind his back; this had to work! He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable to hit.

"Fine, the mixer goes. No sense getting in trouble for someone who just wanted money...I have to admit, getting you gobs to sign something for his own personal gain is ingenious."

"Well we didn't have much of an education at the time." Ringo remarked.

"You have one minute to free the man, before I do it myself." said Lady Magnum, walking out of the cell. "Good luck."

The door was slammed shut as Ringo took a shard of glass from the shattered window. He immediately got on his knees and began slicing the threads of the rope.

"Listen you old man," Ringo hissed. "I'm gonna free you and you are going to get my friends and bring them to me. Got that? I don't care how the fuck you do it...but you are going to get them! ALRIGHT?!"

The old man quickly nodded his head as Ringo removed the cloth that covered his mouth. The ropes and cloth fell to the ground as Johnny McCartney stared at the drummer.

"What are ye?" He asked.

"If you want to live, you'd better let that quesiton be left unanswered." Ringo snarled. "Get going."

Johnny McCartney nodded his head and ran through the broken window. Ringo looked onto the simple silver band on his finger and recalled the day that George gave it to him...he prayed that he would be able to live toward that day though...

0 0 0 0 0 0 0

John, Paul and George were nervous. They had no clue where Ringo was and the stage director was chewing them out. They needed a break, but the director--sweater and all--was not letting them go.

"Can I say something?" asked George.

"Yes, anything." said the stage director.

"It seems unlikely that we'll be on." George explained, picking up a black sharpie. "I mean, the law of averages are against it. If you could get the juggler on with a couple of more clubs...that would fill in a bit of time."

As George commented on that, he was making a sharpie mustache on one of the monitors, hearing the squeaks of the chisel tip going up and down the glass.

"We're never going to get out, are we?" asked Paul.

"Not unless you don't mind me choking the poor guy." John replied.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Johnny McCartney ran down the alleyway and all the way back to the theater. He was in trouble; police was there and he had to get to Paul in time.

He rushed toward one of them, but slowly started to walk away innocently. Then, he ran to the door. There, Charlie's friends--whom the little boy mentioned to Ringo--were trying to get into the theater. They were unsuccessful as the police drew them back. As he did that, Johnny tried to get in...

It was unsuccessful.

"I have to see Pauly!" The old man exclaimed.

"You can go and see him on the telly." said the policeman.

Johnny cursed, knowing that he was going to be blamed for Ringo's death if this wasn't sorted out. He then saw the three kids and an idea formed.

"Can you three fix him for me?" asked Johnny McCartney to the three. The three nodded their heads in reply.

"We want sixpence each in advance." said one of the kids.

"Mercenaries...." Johnny McCartney grumbled, pulling out a few coins from his pocket. The three boys brought out a bucket and took it toward the policeman. The policeman did not notice as the kids soon dumped a bucket on his head. With this, Johnny McCartney rushed toward the exit, the policeman following him.

"Damn it!" Johnny hissed as he weaved through a ladder and swung a microphone at the policeman. Fortunately, the stage director caught sight of him.

"It's all right!" said the director. "Leave the mixer alone."

John, Paul and George soon climbed downstairs to meet up with the grandfather. They were worried, George was going for his gun, as the director asked where Ringo was.

"This woman with a gun is gonna pop his head off!" said the grandfather. "Police took him in at the Bridewell! He's gonna die!"

"WHAT?!" Paul screamed. "What happened?!"

"Just get him!" said Johnny McCartney. "Hurry!"

"You heard the man." said John. "We've got a bitch to kill!"

"What in the world is going on here?" asked the stage director.

"I don't know." said Norm. "But I'm going to find out. Let's go, Shake!"

"Wait for me!" said Johnny McCartney, as the three went off. The director just shook his head.

"We only have half an hour left..." He muttered to himself.

0 0 0 0 0 0

"We just go in and raise hell." said John, explaining the plan to Paul and George. "Got that? No disguises, no stupid nicknames...we get Ringo, kill people, and then explode the place."

"George, do you still have that bottle of vodka on you?" asked Paul.

"I always carry vodka on me for such an occasion." George answered. "But now, Ringo is in trouble. We have to go save him!"

John brought out a pair of glasses, and slipped them on. This was serious; whenever John pulled out his glasses, that means people were going to die.

Paul and George also brought out their guns and barged into the police station.

"FREEZE!" John screamed. "Give us Ringo Starr!"

"Like you're going to tell us what to do." said one of the policemen. "You're surrounded ten to--"

BANG!

The policeman was shot through the heart and collapsed onto the ground. John just had a look of intense fury on his face.

"Don't you dare fuck with me you goons." He hissed. "You look like police, but you're only here to shot down innocent victims for money. If you know what's good for you...you'll STAY DEAD!"

The police soon brought out their guns and were prepared to fire. Paul brought out his rifle and George was pulling out a submachine gun from his bag.

"Hold up."

Everyone turned to see Lady Magnum walking up to the group, One hand had her gun, the other had a rope that had Ringo tied up with cloth covering his mouth. He looked like he was in a lot of pain...but he was still breathing.

"It's nice to see you three in person," Lady Magnum purred to George, John and Paul. "How are you doing this fine evening?"

"We're doing pushups for these daisies." said Paul. "Now if you know what's good for you, you're gonna give us Ringo. NOW."

"He'll be better with me than with you loons." said Lady Magnum. "He likes going out and taking photos and making a fool out of himself. Better than what you said about him. What with his nose, his short height, his 'intelligence'...you have to wonder how he's able to handle all of this."

"This is serious, bitch." John snarled. "Let the drummer go."

"Fine." said Lady Magnum, releasing her grip on the rope. She then kicked Ringo's behind and the poor drummer fell onto the floor, right where everyone else was laughing at him. Ringo slowly got up, but a gun to the back of his head stopped him.

"Time to say goodbye..." The policeman hissed. He pulled the trigger...

Or was about to, when George landed a bullet to the brain.

"Step away from my Ringo." George growled.

"FIRE!"

Paul ducked and soon pulled out his rifle, hands moving down to fire shot after shot. He rolled toward the information desk and began supplying his bullets. John was out in front, tackling a policeman in the face.

"You and your friends are going to die for hurting Ringo!" He snarled.

That was emphasized with a bullet to the face. John's face was splattered with blood.

George pulled Ringo from the fire, untying the ropes and tossing him a spare machine gun. Ringo groaned as he saw George kissing him on the forehead.

"What's going on?" asked Ringo. He then heard the scream of someone dying.

"We're getting you out of here, that's what." said George. "Now come on, we need to...AGH!"

George was lifted onto his feet, seeing a burly policeman grasping his neck. George tried to gasp and sputter something, but the grip on his neck was suffocating him. He needed air...

"You're the little punk who has the vodka problem, right?" hissed the policeman. "Well...that won't be such a problem, won't it?"

George coughed, his eyes to the back of his head as everything got blurry. He soon fell to the ground as the policeman soon stomped a boot onto George's sternum. Then, there was the gun to the forehead.

"George!" Ringo cried trying to push the foot away, only to be kicked in the forehead.

"Get away, shorty." said the policeman. "This is for grown ups."

"...What did you say?" asked Ringo, anger boiling in him. "What did you SAY?!"

Ringo brought out the machine gun and immediately fired ten shots into the thug's body. It fell to the ground. The drummer saw George's unconscious figure as more anger poured into his body. His body was trembling, and he let out a wild and crazy scream.

John and Paul--who were now fighting around six policemen--heard the scream. There, they saw Ringo huffing and puffing, his eyes glowing red. It looked like steam came through his nostrils; he was a bull that had just seen red cloth.

"All of you bastards...can go...to HELL!" Ringo screamed.

John and Paul ducked as Ringo started swinging the gun, firing round after round of bullets. Lady Magnum ducked as each man fell down.

It was right around the time that Norm, Shake and Johnny McCartney arrived. Norm was in shock.

"Are you guys trying to give me MORE of a headache?!" Norm screamed. "What the bloody hell is going on?!"

"What's going on here?" Shake asked confused. "Is this an act?!"

"I knew the short people were always the craziest!" Johnny McCartney exclaimed. "It's always the one with the big hoozers that..."

Johnny McCartney never finished his sentence as the gun was whipped to his face. Ringo's eye was twitching.

"I'm the short one alright," Ringo growled. "I'm the short little Beatle with the big hoozer with a gun that can FUCKING SHOOT YOU DOWN WITH LEAD if you don't SHUT UP!"

The three older men gulped and stepped back as George slowly woke up.

"Ah, what hit me." He murmured. He then looked up to see the situation. "Aw, crap..."

John was skimming through some documents on the desk. He slipped them into his pocket as he and Paul slowly tried to escape...until they found themselves standing up and backing away from Lady Magnum.

"You four...are more annoying then you appear to be..." She snarled.

"Well we're not flies, if that's what you mean." Paul remarked.

"Silence!" Lady Magnum growled. "You and your annoying little antics...the incident at the Circle Club, the fire in the theater, the train....what those people saw in you, I'll never know. To think my father left the likes of you..."

"So Daddy was a former agent gone mafia man, how cute." said John, bringing out his gun. "Well, his life's work is over. Once we arrest you."

"Can anyone tell me what's going on?!" asked Norm.

"This is normal business." said John.

"We're just doing our job." Paul remarked.

"Anyone want vodka?" asked George, pulling out his bottle of mixed alcohol.

"Who wants to die?" asked Ringo.

"...I don't get it." said Shake.

"You're surrounded, Magnum." said John. "Let's get this through; we have a concert to perform in and we cannot afford to be late."

BANG!

That was the gunshot that nearly hit John in the stomach. It went inbetween John and paul and hit the wall. There was nothing but silence...that and the smell of blood from all of the men that were killed by the Beatles.

"Let me handle this John." said Paul, hands on his rifle and a smile on his face. "I have a way with female killers."

"It was from that Black Butterfly girl, wasn't it?" asked George to Ringo.

"Oh that bird...he's still scarred from that incident, isn't he?"

"Yeah...can't help but smile whenever he kills cause of that promise."

"By the hills of Ireland, what is going on?" asked  Johnny McCartne.

"You'll see." said John, walking back. "Oh and uh, how much are you betting?"

"20 pounds and a box of jelly babies." said George.

"30 pounds and one of my rings." Ringo added.

"This will be good." said John with a grin. "Paulie's good at this stuff."

"My dear, Lady Magnum." said Paul, bowing. "How good it is for you to see us."

BANG!

Paul gracefully dodged the bullet as Lady Magnum started to load it.

"I must say, you look ravishing in red...a nice bloody mary red..."

"Shut up..." growled Lady Magnum.

"I can't...you woo me so..." said Paul, standing toe to toe with the opponent. "We can help you...we can cure you..."

"Shut up!"

"Why have you shut yourself up? We want to help....we may not know what it was like for your father to switch sides, it doesn't mean you had to. You have your own life, away from the guns and bullets, the spies, the smuggling...you could've been a singer or a fashion model..."

Paul grinned, showing his pearly whites.

"Here it comes." said John.

"And yet you've become one beautiful bloody bombshell." said Paul.

He then took Lady Magnum into his arms and kissed her on the lips. George and Ringo just gagged, John just smiled wickedly.

Lady Magnum soon gave into the kiss, feeling lightheaded and drowzy. When the two broke, there was a flush of pink on her cheeks.

"I-I don't know...if...I could ever..." She stammered.

"You don't need to. I'll kill you for yourself..."

Lady Magnum's eyes widened as she saw Paul draw out his Mad Hatter pistol. Paul closed his eyes so the woman could see the sweet dimples and shiny teeth before they were opened. Those chocolate orbs were hiding something...maniacal...Lady Magnum was paralyzed, it was if she was in a the gaze of a viper.

"Sweet Lady Magnum, with hair so red...it's just so bad that she's otherwise dead."

Paul smiled as he took his gun, and with him pulling the trigger...

The next thing that his audience saw was a bloodshed. The bullet rose to the sternum and a rose of blood bloomed from Lady Magnum's bosum. She let out a gasp as the last thing she saw was Paul placing his gun back into its holster. He blew her a kiss just as blood drenched his suit.

"Sweet dreams." said Paul as he turned away. "I hope that you can forgive your daddy dearest for raising such a beautiful bitch such as yourself."

There was silence as John motioned George and Ringo to pay up. They groaned in reply.

"Bets can wait boys." said Paul, licking the blood off of one of his sleeves. "We've got a show to prepare for."

"Ooh, wonder what kind of goodies we'll get for this job?" asked George.

"Well, let's find out." said John, calling a number through the phone. "George, be a dear and give us a bang."

George just grinned as Norm, Shake and Johnny McCartney looked in fear.

"I knew you were a nutcase from the beginning, John!" said the very clean man. "And George, you were the one with the alcohol last night! It's no wonder you're so crooked! And Paul..."

Paul was still licking off the blood when he turned to his grandfather.

"Has your mother taught you no respect?! What was with the guns and the fighting and the shooting?!"

The Beatles then gave their respective replies.

"So what if I'm a nutcase? I'm a brilliant one!" said John.

"What else would I use the alcohol for?" asked George, opening the dark cell. He soon gathered some firewood nearby and placed it in a pile. "The more alcohol I horde, the less drunks there are on the streets."

"Grandpa, shut up." said Paul, closing his eyes and showing his sweet grin. "We're gonna be hoisting authorities at the Theater so if you please don't mind...let us do our jobs."

Ringo spat on the faces on some of the guards, packing the machine gun away.

"Scum like you should NEVER call me short." He stated coldly.

"Can we still call you short?" asked Shake.

That was just met with Norm pulling Shake away from the police station. It was a good thing too...George had just poured half the contents of his five vodka mixture and struck a match.