One Piece; The Great Pirate Era

Picking himself up, Flint stared in amazement at all the bouncing bullets, "Woah this is pretty neat!" However his partner had other ideas, and so he stopped his gawking, to stare and then help Hawkins out. Thinking he understood his plan, he pounded his fists.

"Good idea!" He exclaimed, rushing to one of the end support beams, which was also lodged into the concrete ground. Assuming a kneeling position, he then grasped the beam, and with great effort and force, strained himself to lift it up. "Come on you stupid thing, budge!"

As the bullets continued to rain through, the beam suddenly ripped out, along with the top base of the platform. With a quarter of the platform in hand, he then rushed forward with a furious growl. From above, some of the riflemen shooting at the base, took the time to stare in bewilderment as the entire platform began to run away.

Still on top of the platform, Whiskey struggled to keep himself upright, but was eventually thrown overboard, as the ride became to bumpy.

When Hawkins figured out what Flint was doing, he immediately stopped his actions.

"Wait, that's not what I--"

But he didn't have time to finish his sentence as Flint was beginning to run away with the platform. Or rather, what he managed to grab. Without thinking, Hawkins grabbed onto one of the beams before Flint was completely gone.

"Well, this works too!" Hawkins said, mostly to himself, as he was being dragged who knew where.

"The platform is running away!" One of the riflemen exclaimed, as most at this point ceased fire, at this strange event. Angrily the officer of the bunch growled, before pointing his finger furiously at the retreating structure.

"What are you fools doing!? Fire at them! They're trying to use it as cover as they make their escape!" Acknowledging their superior's insult and order the Marines quickly resumed firing. What seemed to have been a clean getaway quickly escalated back into a ricocheting shooting gallery.

Being scrapped several times, Flint flinched at the pain, especially as his clothes was becoming shredded, but it was better then running around without cover, so he embraced the danger and sped onwards with increased speed.

Gasping from the unexpected event, Marine Captain Whiskey clawed his way back on top of the platform, having caught himself mid-fall. However his accomplishment was short lived. Having spent precious time catching his breath, he didn't spot an incoming walkway. Allowed only time to yelp at his predicament, his forehead and neck grabbed the ledge involuntarily.

"C-Ca-Captain!" One of the rifleman on the walkway exclaimed, as he stared at his incapacitated superior, dangling by the chin on the railing.

"So where are we going?" Flint asked, as they rushed the platform to no particular spot. It almost seemed he was excited about their predicament.

Hawkins tried to swing himself behind one of the beams so he wouldn't get hit by the oncoming bullets. Unfortunately, that wasn't going very well. In fact, he was certain he was getting hit more because he was trying to move as opposed to just letting himself flail all over the place.

His arms were now bleeding more than before and his clothes were getting torn to shreds from the bullets. But there really was nothing he could do.

"How the hell should I know?!" Hawkins exclaimed from behind after hearing Flint. "I'm making this **** up as I go!"

"Hey I thought you had an idea!" Flint exclaimed slightly reprimanding in tone, as they continued to retreat with the structure. "This thing is heavy, and you have the nerve to tell me I lack direction!" He felt the need to add.

However the serious situation, whizzing and ricocheting bullets, caused him to go into deep thought. Or at least as deep as Flint could muster currently. "What about that light?" Flint suggested, continuing to run, in fact he was referring to the spotlight which the Marine's had obliterated with their guns.

It wasn't too far off from where they were, all they would have to do is take a slight change in direction, as it could be seen hazily in the dark night's distance. "That's where Anais was right? She seemed to want to help us."

"I never wanted you to take the whole damn platform," Hawkins grumbled. Normally, he would have said this loud and clear but decided there was a chance Flint would just drop the platform if he heard him. So he didn't kept this mostly himself.

"Makes sense to me!" he shouted back after seeing the light Flint was referring to. It wasn't like he had any bright ideas at the moment.

The two rushed towards the obliterated spotlight, nearing it with every inch, as the Marine Captain Whiskey groggily rose from his bumpy ride and drop. Rubbing his forehead, an officer of the riflemen rushed to his aid.

"Captain!" He exclaimed, upon arriving by his side. "I'm fine," Scoffed Whiskey, who then stared at the vanishing and butchered platform in the distance. Because it was night, it was incredibly difficult to make out most of its shape, which was now mostly a silhouette.

"Your men did their best. Without our lights, they'd be firing blindly." He stated, noticing the disappointment and distress on the officers face. "Still they're still on the run and they gave them hell. Give them orders to replenish, load, and be on the stand by."

"Sir!" The officer exclaimed, rushing off. "I know exactly where you're going kid. I think it's time we introduced you to the Waters of 77."

"There it is!" Flint exclaimed, carrying the platform, as he pointed at the now visible and increasing in size spotlight. Although the gun shots had long ceased, they were still trailing behind with the platform.

Suddenly he threw his side over, as the entire platform kicked back, and dropped on its side. There he quickly latched onto a metal ladder which was built onto the building, and climbed his way quickly up on the roof.

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary on top, just a few bullet holes on the roof, shattered glass, a destroyed spotlight, and several round bullets resting beside it. Scanning the entire area, with his hand, he couldn't find anything, not even Anais. "Aw darn, I thought for sure she would still be up here!"

As Flint dropped the platform, though Hawkins saw him more as throwing it, Hawkins let go before it hit the ground. At first, he was going to follow Flint's lead and climb to meet the girl. However, he quickly realized it might be best to have one man on the ground so he stayed put.

"Anything?" Hawkins called when he noticed Flint was taking a decent amount of time up there. He only hoped there wasn't a swarm of Marines or something coming their way.

From where Hawkins resided, possibly staring above the ladder, and the roof beyond, it would be difficult to see much. Only the ledge of this rooftop would be visible, and even that would be a challenging task, given the time of the night.

Scouting the area, there was only one spot left to observe, which was the destroyed spotlight, smacked in the middle of the roof. Advancing towards it, he inspected the bullet holes, the jagged glass still clutching onto the frames, the scuffed metal, and something else...

"Woah!" His voice echoed from above, "Hawkins, you got to see this!"

Hearing Flint, Hawkins began to climb up the ladder. He couldn't help but to question whether or not Flint actually had something there that was worth the climb or if it was a complete waste of his time. For some reason though, he found himself trusting Flint's judgement and continued to ascend.

When he reached the top, he noticed how difficult it was to see. Well, he supposed even if they were about to be swarmed by Marine officers, the chances of them spotting them in time were slim. For all he knew, they could be near now. He didn't particularly like this train of thought.

"What is it?" Hawkins asked as he squinted his eyes at what Flint was directing him towards.

Immediately as Hawkins rose onto the roof, Flint pulled his head away from the spotlight and towards his crew-mate. With a wide grin, he pointed inside of the spotlight, where the glass and lights were originally, but now were shattered.

Inside rested a handful of bullets, too many to count. They had all converged inside, when the round balls could not penetrate the metal inside. "Check out all these bullets! This is crazy!" He exclaimed, yet in an energetic and excited tone. Dipping both hands into the spotlight, he pulled out a heaping load of bullets, some even spilled and rolled over the roof.

Soon after several strange metallic objects latched onto the roof, from below. They were grapples, which were attached to ropes, and fastened tightly onto the ledge. With each grapple thrown and hooked, one Marine rose above quickly.

Several sections of the roof rose, what seemed to had been tiles, was actually gray camouflaged tarp. The fabric blew wildly in the wind, being hoisted away, revealing several other Marines who were already on the roof.

These Marines surrounded the two pirates from all sides and corners of the roof, some even climbing the ladder the two had used previously. However there was something different about this Marines, they weren't the common run of the mill soldier, that was for sure.

They were larger, bulkier, muscular, seeming more elite. With their determined and chilling grins, they all assumed the same fighting stance, not breaking out of formation. "We're the Waters of 77, and you're very near it." The entire body chanted militarily. "Sending you to Davy Jones, with our feisty spirits."

"Well, that's useful," Hawkins replied. Though, in all honesty, he had hoped they had found something to get them out of here. Or alcohol. Yes, the odds weren't in his favor that this was what Flint had spotted but he didn't really care.

However, before Hawkins had anytime to actually search for the slim chance of booze, they were surrounded by the mysterious group of Marines.

"Kid, I think it's time we got out of here," he said.

Flint observed the new force surrounding them, and while he should had been worried about the severity of this situation, he was more interested in their little cadence then anything else. "Hey, neat!" He exclaimed energetically, "That really sounds spiffy, do it again!"

The leader of the group, a muscular and bulky Marine, and bearded, grinned wickedly, before thrusting his finger into the pirate's direction. "Seventy Seven, charge!"

Suddenly the rooftop erupted into an echoing sea of warrior cries, as their boots stampeded across the gritty roof. They didn't have rifles, swords, spears, or any kind of weapon at all. In fact they didn't need them, they were notorious for their brute strength.

Three Marines, the nearest to Hawkins, immediately went in for the attack, while several other charged Flint.

Seeing the three men charging towards him, Hawkins went to lift the light that he and Flint were currently standing by. The wood crumbled beneath it, leaving a huge gaping hole in the center of the platform. Hawkins didn't seem to mind this and threw the light in the direction of the men as hard as he could.

Before the three large Marines could reach Hawkins completely, to give him their fists of might, the pirate had torn the spotlight off of the roof. It was thunderous as it snapped and ripped away from it's gritty flooring, leaving several cracks shooting every which way, and a small hole where it was bolted tightly.

The pirate wasted no time in throwing it at them, to which they screeched to an halt at the incoming, speedy, and terrifying flying object. Immediately they were hoisted off of the roof, along with the spotlight, trailing far away to some distant and no doubt painful landing. Several other Marines were also picked up, but most in its path were able to dodge it in time.

When the object had left the roof, several Marines immediately lunged and dog-piled onto Hawkins. They leapt from all sides, some onto his back, others onto his legs, his front, and arms. They weren't taking any chances with this strong one. "Face it pirate, you're going down!" One of Marines shouted at Hawkins, as he held him in a lock from his back.

Elsewhere four Marines charging Flint were right up against him. The first lunged downwards, striking his fist into the ground. It would had been Flint, had he not leapt backwards in time. Instead the roof took the full force, no cushioning whatsoever, as the Marine's fist chiseled a crater into it.

Not expecting or seeing the Marine until the last second, because of his fascination of their marching chant, Flint growled annoyingly. Latching his hand onto the kneeling Marine, he slammed his forehead into the same crater he had just made, making it larger. "Jerk! Sneak attacks are lame!"

Suddenly two of the Marines attacked from his sides, a fist straight forward for each. Instead of dodging, he grabbed both their hands, and directed them into the others head, knocking them out cold. With their lifeless weight, he then swung each by the arm into a group of unsuspecting Marines.

However what seemed to be a fight turning into their favor, suddenly changed courses, as the grapple hooks were now used against him. A larger Marine then the other special units began to whip two grapples simultaneously wherever Flint was, tearing away at the rooftop.

With the series of men toppling over him, Hawkins did his best to bring his body in as close together as possible before suddenly pushing his limbs forward in order to send the men flying off of him.

With such tremendous strength, several of the Marines latching onto Hawkins were sent off of the roof or to the sides, however a good portion still remained tightly binding him together. "Don't waver yet 77! The waves will crush them!"

Elsewhere Flint dodged a series of different grappling barrages, running from side to side. Wherever he went, the hooks followed, battering the rooftop to noteworthy levels of disrepair. When all seemed grim for these two pirates, as more of the elite Marines began to corner and gain the advantage on them, did the roof began to tremble.

Without warning the entire rooftop collapsed into a smokey mess. Flint, Hawkins, and the entire 77 Unit dropped below, and as they reached each floor, the supports collapsed, sending them down to the next level. With the outer foundation still standing, as the tremors, smoke, and damage began to settle, the inside of this building was just a heaping mess of rubble, filled with unconscious Marines, and two buried pirates.

Popping out of the wreckage of bricks, wood, metal, concrete, and dust, Flint laughed at their expense. "I thought we were goners! That was something else!"

Hawkins struggled to to continue fighting off the Marines but the effort was proving to be futile. Just when he wasn't sure if he could hold them off, he felt the boards beneath him beginning to shake.

Hawkins had little time to react as everything beneath him suddenly collapsed. The next thing he knew, he was under a pile of rubble with the Marines cushioning his fall. He pushed the rubble aside, climbing his way to freedom.

He coughed as the dust from the fall filled his lungs.

"Yeah. Now let's get the hell out of here," Hawkins replied to Flint.

Although most of the floors had collapsed, the foundation and walls still withstood. So after pulling themselves out of the wreckage, Flint rushed towards the watchtower's double door. Before he could open the wooden door's handle, a bullet zipped through the dry shoddy protection.

It flew forth at tremendous speed, banging into the stonewall behind them. There was then the dry clicking of several rifles, which echoed loudly, even from where they were. "Listen up pirates!" Marine Captain Whiskey's voice echoed through a megaphone. "Our elite men have stalled you, you're surrounded. Unless you want this to be your final resting place, surrender."

"Haha" One of the elite Marine officers laughed and grumbled weakly, as he rested in a pile of the rubble. "We weren't planning on taking you out at all!"

"Oh no fair, you guys suck!" Flint exclaimed, lifting the Marine Officer by his collar, although he was still covered fully in the rubble. "You can't do anything now, you'll die here, as is your judgement!"

"...wait, wouldn't you all be judged to?"

Hawkins pushed away whatever rubble was remaining in order to fully free himself. Though at a slower pace, he made for the door.

As Flint rushed towards the door, the bullet zip passed Hawkins, leaving a hole in his sleeve.

"Seems awfully nice of you to be throwing away your lives needlessly for the sake of two pirates," Hawkins remarked as he approached the Marine Officer and Flint.

The Marine riflemen awaited diligently, with their muskets locked onto every angle and corner of the wrecked lighthouse, awaiting for the orders to commence firing. However, Marine Captain Whiskey seemed to savor this moment, or perhaps he was waiting for the pirates to come to their senses so that he could personally judge them as he had wanted to.

Instead what happened is that Elite Marine Officer, who was partially covered in debris, quickly began to shake in terror. Having realized what Flint and Hawkins had said, it donned on him that he and his men were to be a casualty in this crossfire.

"Nooooo!" The officer exclaimed, their voice echoing to Whiskey and his riflemen. Confused by this outburst, the Marines shockingly stared forward, unsure as to what was happening inside. "Captain!" They shouted, while flailing and jerking in Flint's grip. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

"I don't want to die." Another Elite Marine replied lowly, as he began to tear. "Captain, don't shoot, we don't want to die!" Their voices seemed to combine into an echoing mass, which traveled to great distances.

Angrily Marine Captain Whiskey shook from irritation, his megaphone limply held in his drooping arm. "Ugh...these idiots..."

Hawkins folded his arms across his chest.

"Well, well, well, looks like we got ourselves a couple of hostages."

Hawkins began to sift through the wreckage, trying to find some rope or anything that would safely secure these Marines should they try anything.

"So, what's it going to be? You're going to shoot your Elite Marines for two measly pirates?," Hawkins called to Whiskey.

Unfortunately if there was rope, mostly everything within this trashed, but still standing, watchtower was covered in debris and thick dust. Salvaging anything out of this mess would be a miracle, except for the marines and pirates who were lucky enough to come out unscathed. Or as unscathed as anyone in such a circumstance would be expected to be.

Laughing at all the frantically screaming, flailing, and yelping Marines, Flint held his stomach. "Oh, these guys are a riot!" Meanwhile, outside of the tower the riflemen readied their locked muskets. One of the officers staring at the crumbling tower, then brought his attention to their fuming Marine Captain.

"Sir? What are your orders?" They asked uncertainly, to which Whiskey growled irritatingly. "Open fire."

"But they have hostages now." The officer protested, to which he snapped annoyingly. "They will be judged tonight! Fine, send in some warning shots!"

"Sir!" The officer saluted, before giving a selected few riflemen the duty of firing blindly into the tower, in hopes of flushing out the pirates, before too much damage was done.

Suddenly a bullet zipped into the building again, tearing through the whistling wind, before it banged loudly into a pot hanging on the wall. Then another pierced through a wooden board, splintering a support beam, which no longer supported anything. Flint took notice of these blurs, which began to thrash what was left of the structure.

Another followed shortly after, chewing through the fabric of Flint's shirt, before another banged into a piece of metal, ricocheting into the rear-end of a Elite Marine, face down in the debris. That was until the hot lead singed a hole in the bottom of his pants. Without a moment to spare, the solider leapt into the air, holding his flaming buttocks, and screaming for mercy. "My ass is on fire!"

"Captain, no! Have mercy!"

Seeing the Captain was willing to continue firing and with no rope in sight, Hawkins scoured the room for another exit. Perhaps he could find a trap door in the floorboards or something. Anything that might be able to help.

He let the Elite officer run around and only paid attention to him to make sure he didn't run off.

"Looks to me like you might be heading to your graves early," Hawkins remarked while he was near the marines who were still stuck in the wreckage. "Shame really, you all had so much potential. But your Captain seems to think otherwise I guess."

Eventually the entire watchtower became a shooting gallery, to an lesser extent compared to that of the execution platform. Nonetheless bullets still began to enter, penetrating thorugh wood, brick, and bouncing across metal.

As Hawkins was seeking for an exit and conversing amongst the Marines, Flint fixedly watched each blurred bullet as it flew forth. His sight and eyes tilted, cocked, and went all over the place, as he inspected ones course and then quickly changed to another bullet.

Suddenly one bullet sliced across his cheek, inflicting a minor scratch, which bled upon contact. Clasping his cheek, he growled irritatingly, before staring at his crew-mate. "Hawkins!?" He exclaimed loudly, as the Marines inside began to panic, flail, and run around. "What are you doing? We don't have time for small talk!"