In hindsight, I can't say kicking Coil in the no-no-touch-touch-square was a particularly calm, considered, or rational course of action. I was scared, no, more than that, I was terrified. Almost but not quite out of my tiny little mind.
Given that he almost definitely would have killed me eventually if he'd stayed uninterrupted, and that it was only a matter of minutes at the very most before he started on the torture I can't say it was the wrong decision to make, but it was definitely an extremely risky one.
For starters, I wasn't entirely sure that there wasn't a second guard who'd chosen to stay out of sight, one who hadn't left with the others. There wasn't, but there could have been, and if there had been my little counter-attack would not have ended well.
Actually, I can't say it did end well, but it would have ended much worse. Best case scenario, I'd catch a bullet through the head for a quick and painless death. Worst case, well…
Well, actually it's pretty much exactly the same as the worst case scenario without the extra sneaky guard. That being not all that different from the worst case scenario if I hadn't kicked Coil, but considerably more vindictive and with less pausing for pointless dramatics. Which, you know, is a fairly minor change compared to the sheer horribleness of the existing worst case scenario. Like being locked in a cage with a dozen starving wolves instead of ten.
You're not making it out alive either way, and it's definitely going to hurt, but one isn't really all that different from the other.
It also could have gotten me killed before rescue came, but I had no way of knowing when that would happen. And, well, he was right there, blowtorch in hand, and almost definitely going to use it on me more directly than previously in the near future. If I'd been unconscious for any meaningful period of time without the PRT finding me, he'd almost definitely get around to trying some roast Jacqueline before they arrived.
(There's no evidence that he practiced cannibalism, mind you, but I wouldn't put it past him and it wasn't the consumption part that was worrying me anyway.)
That was, pardon my french, très, très mal.
So yeah, I can't say for certain that it was the right decision, but I also can't say it was the wrong one, and I'm more inclined to believe the former than the latter.
And, well, even if it was the wrong decision, can you really blame me?
Of course, besides all the stuff with Coil in specifica, there were also the risks inherent to suddenly causing a man holding a live blowtorch a lot of pain. Namely that he was holding a live blowtorch.
I suppose that, technically speaking, that shouldn't have been much of an issue. The people who design blowtorches, and most of the people who carry them, aren't idiots. Or at least they have some regard for basic health and safety measures and willingness to design in and use basic safety features.
Like trigger guards.
Coil, like Vince before him, had a trigger guard. And, also like Vince before him, Coil didn't use his trigger guard, instead keeping his finger right on the trigger.
Unlike Vince, his trigger went off.
And, of course, that happened right as he was swinging the business end at my face.
I honestly don't know if he did it on purpose. I suspect he did, and it does seem like him, but I couldn't testify as much in a court of law. In hindsight, the combination of his reckless disregard for the concept of trigger safety and the normal flailing and grip tightening of people experiencing sudden blunt impact do provide a sufficient explanation.
At the time, however, I was mostly thinking things like "under attack," "hot, hot, too hot," and "aaah, aaah, it hurts, it hurts!".
Only, you know, less coherent and more elemental than that.
I couldn't see anything. I'd slammed my eyes shut on instinct when the flame was rushing towards me, and for all I know that was the only reason I still had eyes, especially my left, but I could still hear, and Coil was cursing up a storm.
Probably not literally. Capes who can meaningfully affect the weather are extremely rare, and none of them could do so so easily. And, well, if Coil had that kind of power he would have used it before he was suddenly crumbling over.
But he was definitely in a lot of pain, and more than a little upset with me.
And, of course, I'd taken my not-so-metaphorical licking (with a tongue of flame and agony), and decided it was best to keep on kicking.
Pragmatically speaking, I had well and truly crossed the rubicon by that point. I couldn't very well un-kick Coil, and he did not seem like the forgiving type. I was going to win this fight or suffer horribly.
Well, even more horribly.
Sadly those weren't exactly mutually exclusive, but surrender was not an attractive option. Not that I actually put much thought into weighing my options.
My face was on fire, figuratively and for all I knew literally, I wasn't exactly any less afraid than I was when I decided to kick him the first time, and, as petty as it sounds, I really didn't think he had any right to be complaining about my treatment of him.
So, before I had really thought about it, I'd kicked him right in the same place again. Fortunately he hadn't moved, or at least not much. Not enough to matter.
He didn't seem to like the second time any more than he'd liked the first. Guess he liked dishing it out better than he did taking it, or maybe he just wasn't fond of this particular form of it.
I wasn't terribly sympathetic. He started it, and he certainly didn't ask permission first. And, frankly, I took what happened next as nothing less than a gift from the universe.
Coil wobbled.
Coil reached out to steady himself.
Coil slammed his hand onto the tray full of torture implements.
Coil sent said tray full of torture implements sliding off the table it was resting on.
Coil crashed down to the floor in an ungainly heap, not helped by my third attempt to put my heavy, hard boots into his most sensitive part at high speeds landing in his only-moderately-less-sensitive gut.
I heard it all. And that last part I could feel just fine.
After that there was nothing to the fight but red and fury and terror and as much stomping and kicking as I could manage as quickly as possible. I honestly don't remember most of it. I certainly couldn't see it.
In hindsight, that was probably a mistake on Coil's part.
