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Work In Progress
Sep
18
Frostfire went to his quarters and picked up the phone to call one of his old contacts/employers.
“Frostfire here. You mentioned something about a sorceress looking for some work? Give me some details and what she’s looking for. Uh-huh… Ok… I think we could use her skills. Give me some contact information.” Frostfire jotted down a few notes.
“Ok, thanks.” *CLICK*
Frostfire thought a second about this potential candidate, Majestirx. _A rather regal sounding name. I hope her personality is more stable then than some of the others we’ve had around here._ Frostfire always had various feelings about magic. It sure is handy to have, being as versatile as it is, but hard to plan against soemtimes.
He picked the phone back up again, went through various people in the network and finally left a message for this Majestirx woman. “I hear you’re looking for some work. My name’s Frostfire. You’ve probably heard of me. We could use someone with your abilities. Contact me through this same network and we’ll arrange for a meeting time to go over the details.” *CLICK*
_Interesting._ Majestrix thought. _Frostfire…that sounded familiar._ “Well, anything to make extra cash.” she said to herself. Putting out a message through the network, she said basically, “If the profit margin is good, I’m willing to talk. Let’s meet.”
“The profit margin can be good at times,” Frostfire replied through the network. “The group also deals in some larger scale activities and mayhem. Perhaps you’ve recently heard news about a group called the Renegades. At any rate, meet me at the zoo, tomorrow night, 11PM, and we can discuss the details of the group, the membership, and what we are looking for help with.”
“I’ll be there. The Renegades offers a good deal of potential. I’ll be happy to see what you have to offer.”
Kevin wandered through the seamier side of town. Since becoming Goldwing, Kevin hadn’t been spending as much time on the streets. But it was still where he grew up, in many ways his home.
Back before he was allowed to go independent, Kevin was muscle for the Sorrono Mafia Family. Now he was looking for them again. Thankfully his departure had been amicable on both sides. At least he didn’t have any grudges to worry about.
Word on the street was that Force is back in town, and looking for a score. Well the Renegades had a score, and they were looking for muscle.
Carefully adjusting his leather jacket, Kevin stepped around the street person lying in a heap next to the pool hall. To someone with Kevin’s history that seemingly insignificant bum in the corner was to alert, his torn and dirty clothes to systematically disheveled. That spelled either a cop or a lookout man, and in this neighborhood a cop would have been fingered long ago. This looked like a good joint to check out.
Smiling wickedly, Kevin swaggered into the Hollow Leg in search of beer and information.
Vinnie was happy. Not as much as the time he split a half pound of coke with three hookers after the Carter job, but happy none the less. The place was mostly empty, but the smoke was already starting to hang low in the Hollow Leg. Little Tony, at 320 lbs, barely slowed down to take another gulp of beer as he talked about the basketball game he went to last night. It was good to be back in town. BB had been inviting him to join the guys here the last couple days, helping Vinnie put out some feelers for some jobs. BB was always looking out for him.
Being the low guy on the totem pole, Vinnie had the seat with his back to the door, not that he was worried. But he saw Tony’s eyes shoot to the door, even if he didn’t lose a step in his story telling. BB set his beer on the table, and leaned over to talk to Vinnie, “That guy sure looks familiar…”
Vinnie looked over his shoulder as Kevin stepped up to the bar, and pushed the bowl of peanuts away from in front of his seat. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the way Kevin scanned the room, prettending to look for a good seat to sit and watch the TV above the bar. “He sure does.., Carl, or Keith?”, Vinnie asked as he tried to remember his name.
“Kevin.” BB remembered, “You remember Kevin, that time at Frankie’s Club, the twins, or sisters you guys picked up.” Vinnie laughed as he started to remember. “And some how I ended up with their ‘less than attractive’ friend.” Vinnie tried to cover his smile on that last remark. He remembered Kevin and him gave BB a hard time about his ‘date’ for weeks after that.
Vinnie waved off, Big Carl, as Carl was heading over to tell the new guy he was apparently in the wrong Bar. Tony’s eyes narrowed as he stopped his story and shrugged at Vinnie. “Don’t worry Tony,” Vinnie said, “don’t get up. BB and I know the guy.” which gets a couple of laughs, even from Tony. Tony wouldn’t have gotten up unless an all you can eat buffet opened up across the street.
BB makes his way next to Kevin as Vinnie sits next him at the bar. “Hey buddy, don’t you owe me some money.” Vinnie says with a smirk, holding his hand out for a handshake.
Kevin grasped Vinnies hand firmly, and pumped a good old fashion handshake. “That’s not how I remember it, pal. Don’t you owe me a bear?” Kevin replied jokingly, winking at BB.
Kevin had not problem recoginizing Vinnie and BB, but then he’d come looking for them. Or rather he’d come looking for Force.
During his Mafia days, Kevin had worked with Vinnie and Force on occation. He’d been told that Vinnie was Force’s contact. Now Kevin may be uneducated, but he’s not stupid. It didn’t take him long to suspect Vinnie and Force might be one and the same. However, Kevin was smart. Smart enough to realize that thoughts about Vinnie and Force could be decidedly unhealthy. The family said Vinnie was Force’s contact, and that’s the way Kevin played it.
Now that Kevin was also Goldwing, he had even more reason not to bring up the topic of secret Harbinger identities. He’d go on pretending he didn’t suspect Force’s identity, and hope Vinnie returned the favour for Goldwing.
Kevin reached into the pocket of this stylish leather jacket and pulled out an impressive wad of money. Some left over spending cash from the armoured truck robbery. Sure the inside of the roll was low denomination stuff, but he outside was big bills. It would serve his purpose. The wad would say I’ve hit a big score, and spending it freely would say I’m expecting even more.
“Tell you what old pal, Let me buy you and your boys a round.” Kevin replied, flashing the cash and waiting to see how Vinnie and the boys reacted.
Vinnie tried to make sure he didn’t smile too much. If Kevin was flashing money around like that, it probably meant he was looking for some more people to help out on a job.
“Looks like life’s been good to you since you branched out.” Vinnie said.
Kevin nods as he watches BB go back to the table, assuming he’s going to tell the guys about their free drinks, and remind them who he was.
“Things have been pretty good.” Kevin replies with a smile, mentaly counting the number of boys, and therefore the number of rounds he could buy without using up all his flash money.
“Ya probably heard what happened to that mumbo-jumbo guy I was farmed out to. Damn idiot tried to take on a whole team of capes on his own, and rightly got his balls kicked in.” Kevin continued with a smirk, downing his beer.
“Since then I’ve been doing freelance stuff. Mostly small shit, but I’ve got me a gig now as kind of a long underwear recruitment agent.”
“You heard about them Renegades?” Kevin continues quietly, after sneaking a look to make sure no-one is listening in. “They’re the ones that trashed the superjoint. My kind of harbingers. Anyway they’ve got a job coming up and want some extra Muscle. That’s where I come in. They want a powered dude to help out, and I go find ‘em one. Now I remembered Force from back in my family days, and I figure he ought to fit the bill. You’ve still got your connections, so you can pass the offer on?”
“Sure, Force and I were looking to get our hands into something. We’re not hurting or anything like that right now,” Vinnie tried to not sound too desperate, “but a big score would always be nice.”
(”A boost to the wallet and the old reputation.”) Vinnie thinks to himself.
Vinnie nods to the bartender as he brings him another beer. As he listens to Kevin describe the job, Vinnie wonders how he’ll keep Force a secret from him. He’ll probably have to tell Kevin that he’s really Force. Hopefully he won’t be too mad, and hopefully he can trust him.
“Well if you and Force are interested, then I can set up a meeting. They’re going to want to meet him. I guess you can tag along as well, act as, like, his manager or something.” Kevin replied, watching for Vinnie’s reaction while trying to look like he’s not.
“Sure thing. My schedule is pretty open right now. Here’s the number to the cell phone I’m using right now,” Vinnie writes a number on a napkin and hands it Kevin. Then when he shakes his hand to leave, Vinnie remembers not to crush it in his enthusiasm.
Kevin winces ever so slightly. Damn, Vinnie’s got one powerful grip there. He thinks to himself. Maybe I was right with my suspisions back then, and maybe I’ll powerfull enough now that I can think about it a little.
Amy smiled at the clerk at the sporting goods store. She hated having to deal with the “jock” subculture, but the good electronics stores in town didn’t have public bulletin boards. “So how long can I leave this up?”
The clerk pulled out a date stamp without putting down his magazine. “We’ll have to take it down in three weeks. If you haven’t gotten a response by then, you can put a new sign up.” He stamped Amy’s sign. “Thumbtacks are by the board, hope you find someone who can alter that bow for you.”
“Thanks”, Amy replied. She walked around three conversations to get to the large bulletin board, and tacked her sign up.
WANTED: Person who can customize a compound bow. Need to be able to work with custom designs, technical skill a bonus. Will also need special arrows to go with customization of bow.
The e-mail address on the sign was one of Amy’s anonymous e-mails, as untraceable as she could make it.
_Will this be enough?_, Amy wondered as she left the store. _I don’t want to be too blatant, or Bowyer won’t respond, but too subtle and anything that might be from him will be buried in a stream of mail from archers who want some extra cash._
Despite her musings, there was a certain bounce in her step as she headed to her car. This was the last of the sporting goods stores; she could now start on the part of the job she preferred. The electronics stores didn’t have physical bulletin boards, but some of them ran a discussion board. A few posts were about to go up, from the same e-mail address she’d put on the signs, about miniaturized electronics. Hopefully one or the other would catch Bowyer’s eye soon.
The tall blonde man’s gaze shifted from store clerk in front of him and followed the woman as she approached the message board, _Not to shabby_, he thought.
“… and we also have these with…”, the sales clerk continued.
The blonde man looked down at the new offerings, “Those are junk and you know it pal, don’t try and pass your shoddy %$#^ off on me. What else you got?”
“We do have some of the more expensive items in back”
“Well go get them”, he watched as the shocked sales clerk exited through a door in the back. “Loser.”
He turned his attention back towards were the brown haired woman had been only to find that she had left, “Dammit. Oh well lets see what she was posting.”
Without moving he looked at the message board and read the message. _Hmm not to blatant. It’s either a set up or someone is looking to hire. Let’s hope it’s the latter, for her sake._
He looked around and saw that all of the sales staff were busy. Stepping behind the counter he began to tap away on the computer console there, accessing the shops e-mail system he entered the posted e-mail address.
ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES
The sight of your ad has me all a quiver and strung out.
I have all you want and more.
Meeting at O’Malley’s, Downtown. Tomorrow. 9:30pm
Send the one who placed the message.
Robin of Loxley
Stepping back around the counter he strode towards the exit just as the sales clerk emerged from the back, “Sir, sir I have those….”
The tall blonde man ignored him and stepped from the store back into the world outside.
Amy paused when her e-mail monitoring program chimed. _A response already?_ She pulled up the program and read the new message.
_Sounds like a hit_, she thought. She looked up the e-mail address, and grinned. _Either one of the clerks is pulling a prank or Bowyer is as clever as his rep, and this doesn’t read like a high school kid prank. Better bring a couple shock grenades along just in case, though._
The next evening, Amy walked into O’Malley’s five minutes early for her appointment. A waiter (”Pete”, according to his name tag) intercepted her promptly. “Just one tonight?”
“No”, Amy replied, “I’m meeting someone.”
The tall blonde man sat calmly at the bar, watching as the waiter ushered the woman into a booth. Adjusting his vision he looked at her more closely, scanning for any obvious signs of weaponry or surveillance equipment, _Nothing obvious_. He sat and slowly finished off his beer and ordered another.
Fifteen minutes had passed since the woman had entered and she still seemed calm and collected. Standing he picked up his beer and sauntered over towards her.
“Excuse me miss, can I buy you a drink.”
_Is this him?_ “Certainly”, Amy responded. As the waiter went by, she signalled him for a refill of her wine cooler.
He smiled and sat down in the booth opposite her, “You can call me Bo.” The waiter returned with her drink and he pulled a $10 out and handed it to him, his eyes however never left her face. As he sank deeper down into the seat his eyes drifted until he was looking at her hands, _Hmmm calluses but in the wrong locations for an archer. What’s her game_.
“You don’t look like someone who would normally hang around these parts, must be something delicate going on, right”, he emphasised the word delicate but not excessively.
“Delicate is putting it mildly, Bo”, Amy replied. “I’m meeting someone for a job interview, and some people would question the type of job we’re offering.” She arched one eyebrow questioningly, inviting ‘Bo’ to confirm that he’s the one she was to meet.
_Well moment of truth time Sebastian_
“Yes I know, I saw you placing the ad. Some expert repairs required on a compound bow. Sounds intriguing”, he voice was clam, his words carefully chosen. He reached slowly into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny electronic device, placing it on the table between them, “Tell me more.”
Amy looked down at the device, appraising it, then chose her words carefully. “We had to screen out unsitable people, and that was the best way. The actual job … tell me, what have you heard about the Renegades?”
“A few whispers here and there. Not a real lot actually. Something about them having a few H’s on side and that’s about it. I’ve been a little busy of late to listen to that sort of thing, if you catch my drift.”
He took another swig of his beer and nodded at the device, “Feel free, it’s not active.”
“We’ve had a couple big jobs, most recently extracting someone from Devil’s Island. There’s a few more plans in the works, but Devil’s Island showed us that expanding the roster would be a good idea — the job wasn’t as neat as I’d have liked. We need some people who can pull their weight, follow a plan that’s working, and improvise if it hits the fan. From your reputation, you’d fit in well.” Amy smiled. “And the money’s good.”
Amy knew she was taking a chance, speaking of the Renegades as a member would, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere on this recruitment meeting with vague ‘I’ve heard rumors …’ stuff. Besides, even if his device _was_ active, so were the two shock grenades she’d brought along.
Bowyer looked around, still no one else to make him think that this was anything but the real deal. _Hmm good money and some possible backup if I need it. Besides I’m sick of running_.
“Hey if the money’s right it sounds like my kinda deal. Would sure beat the penny ante stuff I’ve been doing lately”, he flashed a smile at her, “Colour me interested. …………..So what do we do now?”
Amy took a card out of her purse and passed it to Bowyer. “Be here tomorrow night at 9 PM. The Renegades will be there to meet you officially. We’ve been scouting our next target, so we’ll probably discuss where your skills would fit in best as well.” She returned his smile. “And welcome to the group.”
Bowyer stood and took the card, “All right then. I’ll see you there.” Turning he walked from the table and out the door, never looking back.
Mentiad/Psi-Blades escapes contain violence and no small amount of adult scenes. If you wish to read the scenes, please click here, otherwise continue reading below.
_Cat burglar and assassin,_ Spectre thought, heading for the drop point. _Should be interesting._ It had taken a good deal of time and effort to discover a means of contacting Stiletto. He hoped it was worth dealing with the circuitous methods the man insisted on.
Spectre quickly checked to see if he was being followed, then slipped the folded sheet of paper from his pocket and knelt, as if to tie his shoes. The piece of paper vanished under a bit of landscaping. As he stood, Spectre subtly modified a drawing on the pavement nearby, then continued on, blending into the crowd.
Stiletto finished his meal, and left a twenty dollar bill to cover his bill, and leave a decent tip for the rather attractive waitress. He pulled on his Ray Bans, and donned a black baseball hat with the letters FBI embroidered across the brow in yellow thread.
He was dressed fully, jeans, long-sleeved turtle neck of cashmere, and solid looking boots, despite the fair weather. His white hair, tied back in a pony-tail, stood out in start contrast, as did the pale skin of his face and hands. As he stepped out of the diner, he pulled on tight-fitting leather gloves, and walked the few blocks to the contact point.
It seems I’ve a friend, he thought, as he noticed the change in his mark. He reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes, dropped them, cursed, and then knelt to pick them up, palming the note from beneath the bushes.
He lit his smoke, and walked on a few more blocks, before even glancing at the note.
The text of the note was short.
“I wish a meeting to discuss a topic of possibly mutual interest, and a project that may require certain… talents. Your choice of place and time, of course.”
The remainder was instructions on how to contact the man who’d left the note.
Stiletto smiled, “Some work…”
He finished his smoke, tossed it aside, “Let’s find my contact…”
With that he set about following the instructions in the note, and arranged for a meeting at midnight, in the old park by the fountain. Plenty of shadows to duck into, and easy to check for any funny business.
Satisfied, Stiletto went to his hotel to rest and prepare for his evening.
Spectre waited in the shadows near the fountain, no more detectable than his namesake. He watched and waited patiently.
Stiletto watched the fountain from a distance, only barely eeing Spectre, and then, only because he had taken his place early, and waited. He’d been in the park for more than an hour, before his contact finally arrived.
He waited a bit more, and decided the man had come alone. Making sure his pistol was ready for action-he always had blades handy-he turned his baseball hat so the bill was backwards and out of his peripheral vision, pocketed his sunglasses, and moved forward.
He stepped from the shadows, “What’s the offer?”
Spectre was startled, but hid it well. It had been a long time since someone had managed to get that close to him without him knowing it. He aborted his instinctive grab for a weapon before it began. “My compliments. I don’t remember the last time someone managed to startle me like that.”
He paused, then continued. “I’m looking for someone with your particular talents for an upcoming job.”
Stiletto smiled slightly, “I’m full of surprises.”
He stepped a bit closer to the contact, and eyed him up. “We talkin’ long term or short? I charge different rates for each. Also, who provides expenses?”
“The term is up to you. If you work well with us and you wish to continue doing so, you’d be welcome. Our immediate need is for extra personnel–we have a job coming up that requires more people than we currently have.” He paused slightly. “Expenses needed for preparing for any job that you’d participate in would be paid for by us.”
Stiletto cocked his head at that, “Long term, huh?” He considered it a moment, “Did you come lookin’ for me for the whole package, wetwork, or a hi-tech smash and grab?”
The albino grinned, “Say ‘all of the above’, and I think we can do business.”
“Oh, I think all of those will likely be involved at some time or another,” Spectre replied. “As we appear to be doing business, there’ll be a meeting of sorts in the old zoo, near the polar bear enclosure…”
Stiletto nodded. He was curious about what this spook was putting together, and from the way he carried himself, the albino thought ’spook’ or ‘ex-spook’ was likley fairly accurate. “When?”
When he had been told the time of the meeting…
“I’ll be there.” Stiletto replied, and then just before fading away into the shadows, he added, “Bring your checkbook.”
Then, the albino assassin disappeared into the darkness.
Continued in Hiring New Blood
Popularity: 61% [?]
Sep
17
Mentiad, Frostfire, Goldwing, Static and Specter sat around the large table in the conference room of their new secret base. The work had just finished this morning and, as Sinistrix had promised, the complex was exactly as they had drawn it. All that was left to do is get their front business going.
Yesterday’s copy of the St. Augustine Advocate lay on the table between them. Splashed across the front page were the following stories:
Brendan Oscar, potential candidate for the leadership of the Reform Party and a very vocal anti-Harbinger suppoter would be in town next week as part of his campaigning for the October 2000 elections.
Willamina Henkel, daughter of wealthy quagillionaire (as in more money than god) industrialist Heinrich Henkel, will be attending the opening ceremonies of the new social studies building that her father donated to the University of Oregon St. Augustine in three days.
Barry Stichler, tv talkshow host (think Jerry Springer) will be doing a live show in St. Augustine in two weeks, doing his usual “Harbingers are Scum” act.
Static tapped the paper with her pen. “Personally, I don’t think there’s anything for us in Stichler. Let the ‘heroes’ argue that Harbingers are good little citizens, they enjoy things like that. Now, Oscar’s going to be vulnerable at times, according to his schedule. Henkel might be as well, but she’ll be harder to research.
“For Oscar, we can figure mostly official guards, police or Feds, and _maybe_ some wildcards. He can’t run around the country with a tame militia group without damaging his political plans. Daddy Henkel can afford a private security team dedicated to keeping an eye on his baby, and won’t get in political hot water for doing so.”
“So its a choice between a politition and a rich girl. Hell, if we hit the politico the public will probably thank us.” Goldwing adds with a sarcastic smile. “Henkel might have more money though, and my quarters are looking a little bare ya know.”
“So which target offers the best haul, that’s what I want to know.” Goldwing concludes, rubbing his hands together with greedy anticipation. “Either way, it looks like we could use some more bodies for this.” Goldwing mused. “So Boss, you have any ideas. Or should I look up some old friends.”
Mentiad glances at the paper looking at the two targets Goldwing as narrowed down. Besides the ransom, Mentiad might be able to get some good blackmail information out of Oscar before letting him go. That might make Spectre happy and help her teammates. Going after a girl just cause of who she is does not sit well with Mentiad.
“Sir.” Mentiad reluctantly calls attention to herself. “If we go after Oscar, I might be able to get some information out of him that we can use against him if his agenda starts to affect us. Going after the woman cause of who she is does not seem like a good idea to me even though it might be profitable.” As a quick after thought, Mentiad adds “But I will do everything in my power to help if we do go after her.”
Frostfire winces slightly at the idea of taking someone’s kid hostage. One of the only signs of emotion that even slightly comes across his face. “Well boss, I’m not a PR guy, but it would seem to me that if you’re trying to make a name for yourself, going after a rotten politician would be the way to go. There would be plenty of rich supports there to rob for those of you who just want some bucks.
“Man, that would be a good news story! Along those lines, I just heard from a friend who knows someone looking for some work… a sorcerer of sorts, which might be of use to us. They tend to be pretty versatile, and might allow us to expand our horizons some. We could certanly use the extra muscle as Goldwing mentioned.”
“I agree,” Spectre said. “We might be able to get a large one-time sum out of Henkel by kidnapping his daughter, but we just might be able to blackmail Oscar for a very, very long time. And you’re right–we could use some extra muscle.”
“I have a question.†Mentiad said in a soft voice. The lull in the conversation making it possible to hear her. “Would it be easier to rob the person collecting the plate fees and the few gifts than robbing the guests? Except for jewelry I do not think the patrons will be carrying a lot of currency. What is the objective?â€
Static nodded as Frostfire mentioned ‘rich supporters’. “What do those fundraiser dinners cost, $500 or $1000 a plate? Anyone who can afford to spend that much for generic catered food can afford a donation to a worthier cause than Oscar, namely us. As far as muscle goes … any of you ever hear of a gadgeteer who goes by the name of Bowyer? He’s pretty much a one-trick pony, trick arrows is about all he builds, but he’s been effective with them. He just pulled off a job north of here, he might be free, and I might be able to get hold of him.”
_Great, another mystic_ Static thought. _What is it about Harbinger abilities that makes their holders think they’ve got a direct plugin to the infinite? Why can’t they just accept that they have their powers through genetic inheritance?_
“OK. Oscar it is then.” Goldwing agreed, rubbing his hands together greedily. “If its muscle ya want, I know just the guy. Knew him from my old family days. Goes by the name Force. He’s real strong and can pretty much get into anything. I hear he’s in town and looking for a score. You want I should contact him, arrange a meeting somewhere?”
Spectre nodded. “Actually, if anyone knows someone who they think might be suitable to hire as part of the team, feel free to contact them and set up a meeting. We don’t have much time.”
Continued in Recruiting Drive
Popularity: 25% [?]
Sep
16
Jailbreak!
Filed Under Other Side of the Street PBeM Game | Leave a Comment
The Renegades could hear the waves lapping gently against the dock as they prepared to put into action their plan to break into the Harbinger prison known commonly as Devil’s Island. The guards on duty were half-way through his shift and the Renegades knew from watching for a couple of nights that they weren’t always the most alert of men. If things were going to schedule, they’d be in the midst of a game of gin.
Frostfire quietly spoke to his teammates. “We need to take them down as quickly and quietly as possible, so as not to attract attention. We may want to keep one conscious and quiet for some questioning, telepathically or otherwise.” Frostfire’s muscles tensed, ready for action.
Static pulled one of her shock grenades off its charging pin on her exoskeleton. Subvocalizing into the team radio, she comments “One or two of these in the room would probably do it for normal cops, but it’s safest to assume these guys have body armor. Whatever happens, keep them away from the computer terminal.”
Spectre suddenly grinned. “Well, well–looks like our friends in the guardhouse forgot that windows are a security risk. Think you can put those things in through that window?”
“Maybe the IT department *won’t* get canned after this,” Static commented, as she looked at the window. “I’d say overconfidence is part of the job description for these people. I should be able to get one through, I’m just worried about whether one will be enough.” She glanced around the team. “Anyone else bring a party favor for our friends, or do we need to see how many of these we can toss through at once?”
Goldwing shifts uneasily from foot to foot. Waiting always made him a little nervous, and what they were about to do was the big time. He wanted to make his mark in the world and stop being everybody’s hired goon. Breaking into Devil’s Island would certainly do that. Thumbing his nose at the law and the supers, that would certainly piss them off. He was about to go on a lot of people’s personal shit lists.
What the hell. He wasn’t no goody two shoes, and you had to look after number one in this world. This job would get them a permanent place to lay low and a serious rep on the streets. Besides the heroes were going to be busy dealing with the escaped cons for a while, so by the time they started looking for him, the trail should be cold. Goldwing decided he was looking forward to the action after all. He was a Super Villain and it was time to let the world know it.
Goldwing stands ready to rush in and bust some heads, only waiting for the call to action from Spectre or Frostfire.
Static handed Frostfire one of her Shock Grenades and on the count of three they lobbed them through the window. There was a flash and a thump, then silence from inside the office.
Mentiad winced a bit after the flash. She felt sorry for the brief pain the guards must have suffered before falling unconscious from the grenade. She was glad that the attack was meant to render the guards harmless, not dead.
“Sir. Ready for the next stage.”
Static triggered her force field on. “Let’s move!” Enhanced reflexes carried her up to the window.
Goldwing waited impatiently for the team to go through the window. Not that the action had began it time to second guess himself was past. Unfortunately Goldwing’s wings have a rather large span. He knew he could get through the window, he’d done that sort of thing before, but it would be a little awkward and take a little time to squeeze in. Better the rest of the Renegades get inside first before he blocks the entrance.
Spectre put his back to the wall of the guardhouse, keeping a watchful eye out for any unexpected guards (or other personnel) approaching. He maintained this position until the others entered the guardhouse, then followed them in.
Static entered through the ground floor window, her Arclance in hand and ready for action. She quickly surveyed the room, noting the two guards unconscious on the floor. There were no signs of any other guards on duty at this time at the guard house, and the computer terminal beckoned to Static like honey to a ravenous bear.
Mentiad, Frostfire and Goldwing entered through the window, followed by Spectre. Mentiad and checked on the guards, finding them unconscious but otherwise unharmed.
Mentiad breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that they were liberating a killer was already a strain. She did not want the pain or death of the guards on her shoulders also.
Spectre quickly crossed to the two stunned guards, relieved them of their sidearms, and began casting about for something he could use to restrain them–no point in taking any chances, after all. He spotted a number of extension cords and a roll of duct tape in the closet. Grabbing them, he quickly bound and gagged the guards.
Goldwing moved over to the guards. “Hmm, Possibilities.” He murmured to himself as he checked them out. Goldwing was disappointed to see that neither of the uniforms would fit him properly when he was in normal form, and he knew that it would make him stand out like a sore thumb if he wore one. He shrugged his wings philosophically and moved to stand guard by the door.
Static holstered her Arclance and sat down at the computer terminal. It was time to show the world just what she was capable of. “They’ll wake up soon, better find someplace out of our way to store them”, she commented. Her eyes never left the screen as she logged herself into the system.
After a few keystrokes she found the prison lockdown program. Looking it through she found it would be simple for her to modify the program so none of the established passwords would work. By the time Static was done, they’d have to do a complete system reboot and a lot of fixes to get the system back in order.
Frostfire looked around repeatedly to make sure there were no more conscious guards or other areas guards would be. While keeping an eye out for hero-types to show up, he also checked to see if there was anything else around the guardhouse that needed “disabling”! There was a radio transmitter (like the police dispatch would have) and a telephone. He promptly pulled the connectors out of the wall and made sure they couldn’t be used.
Once he felt they were secure, he called out. “Goldwing, let’s secure and learn more about our transport to the island. Mentiad and Spectre, why don’t you see if you can find any other useful bits of info or tech around here and make sure those unconscious guards stay out of our way. Static, let any of us know if there’s anything you need or want broken. Also, how long before we can take off for the island and can we tell if the island is aware that anything is wrong here?” Frostfire knew he was asking a lot, but this was a big job and he wanted to see everyone prove themselves here.
He thought to himself, *Jobs like this rarely go smoothly.. I wonder when the other shoe will drop.*
“Sir.” Mentiad says. “Mind if I assist?” After walking over to one of the unconscious guards, Mentiad bent down and placed her hand over his head. *It is 11:30 at night. You have had a tiring day at work. You have no worries and no responsibilities for hours. Sleep. Dream. Relax. You will remain asleep and at peace till your mother wakes you up. * “Sir. He should stay asleep for hours. I gave his a psychic cue of his mother waking him up in order for him to awaken.”
Frostfire called out to Goldwing, “C’mon, let’s check out the boat.” He flew over to the island transport and kept a lookout for trouble while looking over how the boat operated. His eyes glowed slightly in anticipation of this raid on Devil’s Island. *Can’t wait to kick some butt!*
The boat was well armored and was a very large modified speedboat. The entire deck area was covered so that the people aboard could not be seen except through the front windshield. One section of the deck contained a small restraining area, fitted out with a chair with restraints, plus extra chains and manacles.
Static hummed to herself as she typed, giving herself full admin status and a new password, then canceling every other password on the system. She then went back and began entering the lockdown code.
“Ready to go?” Static called from the terminal. A line of computer code was visible on the monitor, and her hand was poised over the ‘enter’ key.
Static pushed the key. “Devil’s Island is now locked down. This hardware isn’t plugged into the security scanners, I can’t tell just where the guards are. They’re not going anywhere unless they can guess the only remaining password or blast down the doors, though.” She stood, her eyes glittering with pleasure. “I couldn’t run a limited lockdown from here, the hardware connections don’t exist, and that means the front door is locked too.”
Frostfire made sure the boat was ready to go and said “Ok, Goldwing, start her running. I’ll go get everybody.” Frostfire flew back to the guard house. “Everything done on your end Static? Good. I’m sure they’ll realize in a minute that something’s wrong with their systems, so we need to get there fast and hit it hard to take advantage of their confusion. Load up on the boat kids, we’re gonna do a little sightseeing!”
Static climbed into the boat, choosing a spot near the center.
After getting everyone on board, Frostfire told Goldwing, “Take us away! I’ll go ahead and fly in low to scout out what is going on, what’s affected, and maybe do a little damage before you guys catch up, if it’s feasible.”
Frostfire takes off and levels down about six feet above the water and hits maximum speed toward the island.
“All aboard.” Goldwing jauntily quips. Starting the boat he slowly and carefully moves it away from the dock before opening her up and heading for the prison island. “Say, I don’t suppose anybody here actually know how to drive one of these things, professionally like?” Goldwing asks as he opens up the throttle. “This is fun.” Goldwing begins loudly singing the theme song from Gilligan’s island, off key, as he pilots.
“Sorry. I do not,” Mentiad replied. “I do not think it will be too hard as long as we do not have to do any evasive maneuvering.”
“I ain’t to worried.” Goldwing merrily replies, thankfully interrupting his singing. “I’m probably strong enough to lift this entire boat and everyone in it into the air, and fly us to the island. Don’t know about going back through. I suspect Bonecrusher is a heavy bastard.” After a moments pause Goldwing begins signing, again off key….”I’m sailing away…”
Spectre winced at a particularly off-key note. “Remind me never to use you if we have to send someone with reasonable singing skill undercover….”
As the boat approached the island with Frostfire in the lead, he could see two guards in guard tower-like structures. They appeared to be panicking and in a state of confusion and hadn’t noticed his approach yet.
Frostfire relayed what he saw to his teammates: “Coming up on two guards in some sort of tower. They seem confused about what we did. What’s your ETA guys?”
“Three minutes,” Goldwing replied as he put the boat at maximum speed.
Frostfire flew up to the tower to take out the guards. Rather than a lot of noise and light, he thought it might be best to do it the “quiet” way, with fists! He listened to what the guards were saying before punching their lights out to see if they said anything of use or to get an idea of what their confusion was. *BAM!* *POW!* *SOCK!*
“Two guards down. Gonna see if I can tell what’s going on here. Let me know as soon as you guys hit the dock and I’ll fly down to help run interference with Goldwing. Mentiad, if you see anyone you can nail before you hit the dock, go ahead and do so. Maybe see if anyone is thinking anything we should know about.”
As Frostfire spoke, two more guards appeared in the towers and began to draw their weapons.
Goldwing carefully brought the boat up to the dock with only a modest bump. Quickly grabbing a mooring line he jumped to the deck and loosly secured it. “Would you lovely ladies mind tieing the boat down. We don’t want it to drift away on us. I’ve got some headbashing to do.”
With that Goldwing launched himself airborne and shot up the side of the nearest tower. After all, he thought to himself, we don’t want the guards shooting holes in our nice newly stolen boat. A quick kick and the guard will be in dreamland. Got to remember to grab all his weapons and gear and bring them back to the boat. Frosty should be able to take care of the other one at the same time.
As Goldwing took off, Static jumped to the dock. She grabbed the mooring line and knotted it securely. _Hate to have to swim home with Bonecrusher …._
With a kick to the head by Goldwing, one of the guards went down. At the same time, Frostfire blasted the other guard and soon there was no more opposition outside the prison facing the Renegades.
Goldwing grabbed all the equipment the guards had that he could find and flew with it back to the boat.
“We probably ought to get you up there,” Spectre remarked to Static. “Unless, that is, you can trigger what you’ve put into the prison’s system remotely.”
Static shook her head. “No, I have to be at a terminal. Goldwing, did the guards have a computer terminal up there, or were they just trying to figure out why the door wouldn’t open?”
Frostfire looked around to see where the guards were coming in from and realized it was probably the small but at the base of the tower. He swooped down and checked them out. They were empty and had very little in the way of furnishings or other useful materials. The only piece of computer-like technology was an intercom-style communications panel.
Mentiad let her senses flow through the watchtower. She winced with pain at the moment her mind locked on to the guard that met Goldwing’s foot.
Frostfire said, “Keep an eye out for any sign of heroes, I’ll knock on the back door, see if anyone’s home.”
Goldwing nodded and swooped down towards the main entrance. “Time to do some damage!” His namesake wings sliced through the vault doors twice, almost completely destroying them. He looped around a third time and attacked the doors again, this time reducing them to shreds of metal.
_Not bad,_ Static thought. It was more than ‘not bad’, but she didn’t want to look too impressed — Goldwing already had a big enough ego.
“Yes, that felt good. It’s Party time Ladies.” Goldwing chuckled as the doors came down, hiding the effort it took him to slice the thick doors. Panting isn’t macho.
Meanwhile, Frostfire grabbed the edge of the door in the VTOL bay and pulled, managing only to put a small dent in one corner. “Forget this,” Frostfire said over their communicators. “The door here must be more heavily reinforced than I expected. I’ll join you at the front for the assault.” He swooped up and over the building and returned to his teammates.
As the last few pieces of the ravaged front door fall to the ground, the team can see half a dozen prison guards armed with Uzi’s rush into the corridor. All of them suddenly stop in their tracks with a look of horror on their faces at the scene in front of them…
Static fired the instant she had a clear shot at a guard, not wanting to take any chances with the Uzis. As she did, she called out, “This is our property now, and you’re not welcome. It’s up to you how painful the eviction will be.”
The guards’ faces blanch when they see one of their number dropped by a single shot from Static’s Arclance. They quickly drop their weapons and put their hands up.
Frostfire flew down as soon as Goldwing turned the door to confetti. *Damn! Those wings would probably cut even my tough skin! Uzis are another matter though…*
“We don’t have the luxury to offer them an option Static. Make it painful as possible. Goldwing, close in for melee and cut them down the middle while me, Static and Mentiad strike them from a distance. Spectre can do what he does best. Let’s move inside as we attack to get you to a terminal Static, and to get closer to getting Bonecrusher free and us out of here.”
“Oh my,” Mentiad said, and waited, watching to see if the guards would attack.
_Wonderful, blab the whole plan in front of the prisoners._ Static managed to keep her mouth shut, though it was difficult.
Goldwing immediately flexed his wing in front of him for missile deflection as he landed, then walked forward.
“Wait! Wait” One of the guards spoke up, fear obvious in his voice. “We surrender. Don’t hurt us!” The five guards began to back away from Goldwing, leaving the downed guard where he lay.
Goldwing advanced a little further, causing the guards to back away from their dropped uzis. Flashing his wings meacingly, and slicing a small chuck out of the wall, Goldwing growled. “Do what your told and nobody gets killed.”
Frostfire spoke softly into his communicator: “Mentiad, scan one quickly and see if this is genuine or if they’re trying to pull something.” Frostfire thought to himself, *We still don’t need these guys around to bug us. We should take them out anyway.*
Static moved forward gracefully, staying behind the testosterone crew but clearly expecting the guards to stay cowed for at least a little longer. “Shall we take matters indoors? We have a lot to do, and this *is* a prison; there should be someplace secure to put these men.”
“What I’m best at,” Spectre’s voice came from out of nowhere, “is being a spook.” He shimmered into view, holding the guards’ discarded weapons. “Yes, let’s get indoors. Speed and surprise are to our advantage, so we should keep moving. One of you gentlemen care to get him?” Spectre gestured toward the fallen guard.
Mentiad leaned close to the guards and met their gaze, with a slightly apollogetic smile on her face. Now that the gaurds are no threat anymore on her team mate’s side would be overkill. She knew it was important to have the guards out of trouble (theirs).
Mentiad’s mind easily slid into the guard’s. He was well and truly terrified, completely shocked that the Renegades (not that he knows that’s what they’re called) managed to break into the prison. After what happened to his co-worker, he felt that his life and the lives of the other guards are truly in danger, especially considering who is incarcerated in the prison. When Mentiad tried to dig deeper to see what his plans were for later, there was nothing there - only an overwhelming desire to get out of this situation alive.
“Listen carefully” Mentiad says to each of the guards. ” Do nothing to harm or hamper my companions and me and do as you are told and you will be ableto tell your children about your adventure.”
Frostfire thought to himself *Why shouldn’t we kill these fools? Just gonna get in our hair somehow.* He spoke out, “Fine. You ‘guards’ get in the cafeteria, NOW! Goldwing, Mentiad, check to see if there are any more loose guards hiding around. Static, let’s lock these boys up in a freezer or something.” Frostfire attempts to herd the guards into the Cafeteria to keep them out of trouble.
Static smiled at the guards, keeping them covered with her Arclance. “It’s down the hall, first right, then an immediate right through the door. I don’t recommend taking any detours. Frostfire, shall we make them carry their friend (gesturing with free hand at unconscious guard) or did you want to take him?”
To the guards, “You heard the lady, pick up the trash and take it with you.”
Two of the guards moved forward hesitantly and retrieved their unconscious co-worker, then made their way towards the cafeteria. They laid him down on one of the tables. One of the guards turned to Frostfire.
“George looks hurt really bad. Can we get the doctor?”
Frostfire could care less about the fallen guard. “Tell you what. With any luck, we won’t be here long, and when we leave, you can do whatever the hell you want with George. Isn’t this part of the job you signed up for? ‘Work with exciting people, put your life in danger, maybe get killed.’ But, hey, I’m a nice guy. I’ll put George here on ice to stop any bleeding until were gone.” With that, Frostfire’s eyes glowed blue as a beam emerged and coated George’s body in an ice sheathe. “Now don’t go telling anyone what a softie I am. *hahaha*”
Frostfire threatened and the guards all moved into the freezer in the kitchen area of the cafeteria, rounding up the cook and his asssitant at the same time. Frostfire slammed the freezer door shut, then coated the entire door and the doorframe in a thick layer of ice. “That ought to keep them out of our hair,” he announced.
Goldwing loops back to the enterance and hauls up a large chunk of door with a small grunt. He hauls it to the cafeteria. After a quick tour of the room where he rips up and smashes any phones or intercoms, Goldwing exits and uses the massive slab to physicaly block the door. “Stay put now. I don’t give second chances.”
Once they have done that successfully, Frostfire turns to Static, “What do you need to get us down into the holding areas and to our guest?”
Static holstered her Arclance, though she keeps her force field up. “The security consoles are across the hall, just let me at them.”
Once Goldwing and Mentiad return, Frostfire tells them, “Static will get you access to our friend, so Spectre, Mentiad and Goldwing can go fetch him, while Static takes control of the security center and I provide any necessary muscle or distraction for Static or topside. And remember, this is a dangerous place, so don’t be ‘nice’! Hopefully there are no questions, so let’s go!”
Frostfire feels a bit gruff and out of whack here, not that that is too different than normal, but the others are sure to sense it.
“Lighten up Frosty. You just need to smash something. Let me tell you, slicin’ and dicein’ doors is amazingly theraputic.”
“Okay, then. Static, sing out when you’ve got everything set up for us,” Spectre remarked. “Guess that leaves you as our sentry, Frosty.”
Static moved eagerly across the hall to the security room. She walked down the row of consoles, checking each one. She didn’t have a very high opinion of whoever set up the prison security system (probably the low bidder), but it was possible that some of these were ’slave’ consoles, with only limited access. Having to switch consoles halfway through would *not* enhance her reputation, better to start at the main console.
Mentiad is all set to go and help retrieve their new ‘friend’. Looking into her eyes one can see she is not too happy with the job but she will do what she can to get the job done as expediently as possible.
Static made a bee-line for the main computer console. She took a seat in front of it, and quickly typed in her personalized access code. As she reactivated the elevator system, she asked, “You want to be waiting outside Bonecrusher’s cell when the door opens, or have him brought out first?”
“I’m thinking we ought to be there before he’s turned loose. We can show him that key thingy and maybe keep him under control. If we let him loose before we’re there I figure he party down and make a real mess. He might just attack us on site, figuring we’re there to lock him up again, or just for the hell of it.”
Any further comments from Goldwing were drowned out by an alarm klaxon going off. Warnings in large, bright red letters flashed on all the computer screens, and a computerized male voice was suddenly booming over the loud speakers. “Security in Cell A Breached. Integrity of Elevator and elevator shaft compromised. This is a Level One Alert. Repeat, a Level One Alert.”
Static swore under her breath. _We wasted too much time getting in here._ She hit override keys rapidly, trying to pull up the security monitors.
Bonecrusher was no longer in his cell. In fact, his cell looked like something out of a war-style horror flick. The place was torn to shreds, and from the smears and remains splattered all over the walls, floor and broken furniture, the guards that appear to have been in his cell wouldn’t going to be going home tonight - or ever.
From the camera in the cell Static could see that the entrance to the elevator is demolished and there were signs that Bonecrusher simply climbed out by tearing huge gashes into the interior of the shaft.
Cameras in the hallways on the second level revealed much more destruction and death. Static could make out the ruined forms of at least two more guards in the very obvious path that Bonecrusher had taken. When she flipped the view to another camera, she finally found she finally found the cyborg. He had just finished ripping out the elevator doors to Cell B.
“%#*&@!” Static waved to the others in the computer room without taking her eyes off the monitor. “Bonecrusher’s out, he’s breaking into Cell B as we talk. How fast can you get the Pikachu down there? The way he’s moving, we get him under control fast or we may not be able to before he offs some of us.”
Frostfire also disliked the idea of trying to fight a psychic vampire while freeing Bonecrusher. “Static? What can you pull up on how they kept that vampire in check? Is there anything here that can neutralize him beside just keeping him alone?”
Frosty looked on as Static whirred away. “Freakin’ great! How in the hell did Bonecrusher get out? What was keeping him from breaking out before Static? I may need to go down and help the guys out, I just hope my hide can take it.” Frostfire thought aloud, “Why is Bonecrusher tearing into the other cells? He’s some sort of cyborg right, so is this part of some program of Sinistrix? Why can’t we ever have something so smoothly…”
Static glanced at her downloaded map, and activated her own radio link. “Bonecrusher’s not making any turns; he might be following orders, or he might just be too flipped out to do anything but find a target dead ahead and make it dead behind. I can page Kriakos on the intercom and try to negotiate a truce, if anyone thinks he can be trusted.” _I certainly don’t, but maybe Mentiad knows a way to keep him from snacking on us._
“Spectre, see if you and Mentiad can’t calm him down first, although, if he’s in some sort of rage, that may not be possible. Goldwing, think your wings can handle the damage Bonecrusher is dishing out? Static, I think I’m going to have to go help them, do you want me to seal you in the security center or leave it open for you?”
Sure Frostfire was getting stressed, but he knew he worked best under pressure!
“Lock me in”, Static said firmly. “I can’t work the computer and fire at anything coming through the door at the same time, and right now running the monitors is more important.” _And if you can’t get Bonecrusher under control, and I *do* have to bug out, I can always shoot my way through the door._
“I do not know what I can do about the vampire, but I will do my best,” Mentiad replied. With just Spectre and herself, Mentiad will do everything in her power to protect him from the vampire and control Bonecrusher. Nobody notices the slightly elevated heart rate of the team’s telepath.
Spectre’s profanity mirrored Static’s. “I don’t know how fast we can move, but you’re right–it better be fast.” He pulled the Pikachu keychain out of a pocket. “Okay–everyone who’s going downstairs come with me, right now!” He headed for the elevator.
Static quickly checked to make sure the elevator was active, then pulled up the internal cameras and microphones in Cell B. _If this is who I think it is, no way I want him getting out — at least before we get off the island._
“OK, the elevator’s running”, Static told her teammates. “Last call for trying to cut a truce with Kriakos. If we’re going to try it, we need to try it soon or we’ll still be talking when you get there.” Static left the security monitor display running, but pulled up the robot control module. Restarting some of the ‘bots would give the Renegades backup if Kriakos tried snacking on them, but she didn’t want the robots going after anyone else. _Easy enough to tell the ‘bots to grab Kriakos, but they’re programmed to keep Boney locked up as well. I’ll have to either delete Bonecrusher from the prisoner list or set up an override. Maybe if there’s a “heroes helping out” routine, I can get the others temporary “hero” status and tell the robots the “heroes” will deal with Boney._
Goldwing flew into the elevator and paused, wings twitching and foot tapping. While he didn’t look forward to taking on Bonecrusher, he definetly didn’t want to fight both Bony and the vamp. Time was getting critical and he was stuck waiting on an elevator. Still, he wasn’t going to rush in without the others. His wings were good weapons, and handy for deflecting bullets, but they weren’t designed to stand up to the kind of battering Bonecrusher could lay out. Goldwing was an uneducated street fighter, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Come on guys and gal. Lets get moving before we have to fight both of them.”
“Contact Kriakos and ask him what he’s going to do,” Spectre told Static as the elevator doors closed.
Static picked up the microphone and opened the intercom link to Kriakos’ cell. “Kriakos, we aren’t those bleeding-heart feds, but that doesn’t mean we’re interested in watching Bonecrusher turn you into pate. If we move in and stop him, are you going to be a good boy and not snack on us?”
“A reasonable request,” the psychic vampire replied. “I bear no ill will towards you, unless, of course, you attempt tp keep me from having a few… discussions…. with the staff of this facility.”
The elevator moved downwards and the Renegades inside could hear the sounds of twisting metal and other destruction getting louder as the approached the second level. The doors opened onto a dimly lit corridor. The sounds of devastation were coming from the far end of the corridor and around the corner to the right.
Spectre, Mentiad and Goldwing moved cautiously down the hallway. As Spectre passed the doorway to the infirmary he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see the person who had to be the doctor on staff hiding behind some medical equipment fire a gun at him.
Spectre twisted out of the way of the shot, and was almost out of the way when a second shot rang out, hitting the Pikachu keychain and blowing it to pieces.
Suddenly there was an electronic roar of rage, and when the Renegades turned to look down the corridor, there was Bonecrusher, eyes glowing red….
The destruction of the keychain, combined with the appearance of Bonecrusher, elicited a heartfelt “Oh, *shit*!” from Spectre. “We have a situation here. Bonecrusher’s loose, and the doctor hiding in the infirmary just killed Pikachu. Anyone have any ideas?”
“Well this sucks.” Goldwing sarcasticly replyed, reading himself to dodge the cybernetic behemoths attacks. “Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to listen to reason.
Meanwhile, back at the security consoles, Static can hear that the other prisoners have started yelling, asking what the hell is going on. Kriakos is silent, concentrating on getting the elevator doors open and escaping from his cell.
“Is there any way to immobilize him?” Static asked as she typed. “Maybe freeze him? He was built tough, he should be able to survive it. Oh, by the way, Kriakos is willing to leave us alone if we let him munch on the prison staff; and we might be able to get some favors from Shrike if I unlock his door.”
“If’n it was up to me, I would tell Kriakos we’ll be opening the doors on our way out. As long as he don’t stop us leaving, he’s welcome to do whatever he wants when we’re gone. Ya think you can get Shrike to help us round up Bonecrusher if we let him out?”
Frostfire worried that something had gone wrong. He had to get to the rest of the team to help with the situation, whatever it was. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.
Frostfire heard the sounds of carnage, even in the shaft, and hoped they could bring the situation under control quickly and get out with Bonecrusher. He wanted to be out of ‘debt’ with Sinistrix as soon as possible. He spoke into his intercom while in the shaft: “Spectre. What’s the situation down there? Static, how are things topside and with the prisoners?”
“Pikachu’s dead, Frostfire,” Spectre replied. “I have to assume that it’s the staff physician that did him in. And I’m looking right at Bonecrusher now. We have a problem.”
Static switched the intercom to the Shrike’s cell. “Stay put, Bonecrusher is on a rampage. You try to break out, he’s going to break you.” Hopefully he would listen; a tiny corner of Static’s mind felt pity for an inventor deprived of his labs and gadgets. OK, so he wasn’t in Static’s class, but he’d used his brains, and hadn’t fallen into the trap of altruism like the scientific ‘heroes’.
“Thank you, young lady, for your concern,” he replied. “If you could be so kind as to open the elevator doors down in my cell, I will be grateful. No need to bring the elevator down - just open the doors.” He smiled at the camera.
Mentiad eases along the wall till she can get a better look at Bonecrusher. She tried to make mental contact with the cyborg and failed, and it appeared only to make him angrier.
Bonecrusher’s glowing eyes locked onto Mentaid. “Bonecrusher gonna crush you!” He let out another roar and began to move down the hallway towards the mentalist.
“Eeep.” Mentiad managed to say as the instinctual fight or flight response kicked in as the cyborg made its way to the mentalist. Flight is having a strong hold on Mentiad but her need to serve and protect Spectre held her where she stood.
“Sorry sir.” Mentiad says. In a voice that Spectre can just make out. “I tried to placate Bonecrusher. I only made him madder.” The disapointment in her voice at failing the team leader is clearly outdone by the fear of her iminent beating.
Frostfire saw the incredible danger they were all in. He took a quick assessment of the situation: Pikachu is dead, Bonecrusher is berserk, and Mentiad seems to be targeted. *Hmmm… not the best of scenarios.* Frostfire attempted to fly closer and freeze Bonecrusher in a block of ice, knowing it would only buy them a second of time. He closed the radio link to speak to Spectre privately as he flew over:
“Boss, if you know how to get Psi-Blade to come out and play, I think we need her for this one, not Mentiad. Ideas?” He also thought to himself, *Of course, we could also use Static’s arclance about now, but we don’t need to be trapped here underground without someone to pull us out.*
A light switched on in his head. He spoke openly into the communicators, “Arclance? Hmm Maybe THAT is what we need to take Bonecrusher down! He’s a cyborg and may be vulnerable to electricity. Static, you’re our techie, what do you think?”
Bonecrusher’s rage at Mentiad switched to Frostfire. “Bonecrusher crush you! Bonecrusher crush jail! Bonecrusher find exit then Bonecrusher crush police!”
As the Renegades watched, huge fissures formed in the ice surrounding the cyborg and with a huge CRACK it shattered, shards flying in all directions. Bonecrusher proceeded to stomp down the hallway, obviously aiming for Frostfire.
“Bonecrusher crush!!!”
Another shot rang out and glanced off Bonecrusher’s metallic arm. He whirled and looked into the infirmary. “Bonecrusher crush!” The cyborg roared and launched itself at the doctor and with one punch turned the man’s chest to so much pulp.
All the Renegades present got the impression that if the cyborg could smile, it would have as it looked at its bloody hand. “Bonecrusher crushed! Now Bonecrusher find exit and crush police for sending Bonecrusher to this place!”
The cyborg turned and its bright red eyes fell upon the Renegades. “You tried to stop Bonecrusher. Bonecrusher crush!” It began to move towards the Renegades again.
While Bonecrusher was not focusing its attention on Mentiad, she moved out of his direct line of sight. Trying to calm and center herself she worked on generating a mental illusion of a Pikachu. The bloody corpse in the other room was not making it easy. Then working as slowly and as subtle as she could, presented the illusion to Bonecrusher. To her dismay, it appeared to have no affect, but neither did it attract Bonecrusher’s attention.
Even a veteran like Frostfire felt very nervous about taking on this killing machine. “Spectre, can you mask us from his sensors? Mentiad, see if you can redirect his anger by projecting illusory police and guards over to the side, toward an exit to the outside. Goldwing, dance with him to keep him occupied while I try to see if my heat beams will have any effect. First and foremost, keep out his way as much as possible!” With that, Frostfire’s eyes glowed a soft red as he prepared a blast.
Goldwing waved his arms in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. “Whoa there big boy. You’ve got it all wrong. We came to break you out. Your boss lady sent us. See, we shut off all the robots and took care of the guards already. Come with us and we’ll take you to her.”
“We’re not here to stop you, Bonecrusher,” Spectre repeated, in an “I’m in charge here” sort of voice. _God, I hope this works._ “In fact, Sinistrix sent us–to get you out. If you want to get to the exit, follow us.”
Bonecrusher stopped in mid-stomp. “Boss Lady sent you?” The cyborg glared at the Renegades in turn. “You no trying to trick Bonecrusher? If you are, Bonecrusher crush!! Show Bonecrusher exit, and Bonecrusher won’t crush you this time.”
As the cyborg made this announcement, a man sauntered down the hallway from the cells, heading towards the elevator to the surface. The Renegades recognized him as Kriakos. He smiled at them slightly, gave slight (perhaps a bit mocking) salute, then continued on his way, ignoring the cyborg.
Mentaid couldn’t help but shudder at the mental aura of hunger and evil that came rolling off the psychic vampire as he passed by her.
“Sure thing, Bonecrusher. No tricks. We’ll show you the way out.” Goldwing replies, delaying Bonecrusher as Kriakos slips by. Those two didn’t seem to like each other, and now wasn’t the time for Bonecrusher to get into a fight. Goldwing quitly comments out of the corner of his mouth. “Warn Static she’s got unexpected company coming.” With Kriakos out of sight Goldwing then guestures towards the elevator. “This way, Bonecrusher. Let’s get out of here.”
“We are not trying to trick you. We don’t want to get crushed. Follow us,” Spectre repeated again, emphasizing it. _It’s almost like dealing with a child._
Frostfire looked in amazement, although still wary, at how Bonecrusher became more calm and complacent. *Apparently he is quite loyal to the ‘boss lady’. Still, better to be ready for anything.* Frostfire looked over the area they were in and how much carnage had already been wrought by this mechanical monstrosity. He decided to keep one eye out for the other prisoners and escapees and one on any resistance, be it from Bonecrusher or the facility guards.
Frostfire decided to call Static, hoping things were ok topside. “Static, all clear up there, or do you need a hand with anything?”
Static replied, “All clear so far, but I’ll need to leave the console soon to stand guard over the boat. I don’t want to swim home, and I doubt Kriakos or Shrike would be willing to wait for us.”
Goldwing squirmed uncomforatable as the villains and Bonecrusher boarded the elevator. Taking a possition next between Mentaid and Bonecrusher. Goldwing didn’t like unclosed spaces, he liked to have room to flex his wings. Now he was stuck in an elevator with a lunatic monster-child. The ride up seems to last forever to Goldwing, as he resisted flexing his wings with some effort.
Goldwing called up to Static, “Say there, Sweet Static. Can you whip up a routine to shut it all down and open everything up on a time delay. Say 15 - 30 minutes after we book, all the guests are let out to keep their former hosts busy and cover us.”
Goldwing gives a little shudder as he continued, looking straight at the squemish Mentaid who he figures might object to his suggestion. “Besides, Vampboy is running around, and right now this place is like an all you can eat buffet. At least that way the chow has a chance to fight or run away. Make him work for his food, I say.”
“Tempting,” Static responded, “but I can either do that or install the viruses I brought as a going-away present — the viruses would trash the program. A general unlock right before sticking the viruses in might have the same effect. The doors are computer controlled, a virus munching on the control program should cause random lock and unlock effects.”
“No Problemo, Static Babe. Don’t mean to upset the plan none. If your little presents will cause enought chaos and open the doors eventualy anyway, there’s no need to mess with it. I kind of like the idea of our ride being there myself as well.”
A few deft keystokes and Static was done. As she turned, she heard the Shrike’s cultured voice thanking her for opening the elevator doors and, for just a moment, she thought she heard the sound of something metal being dragged along the floor.
Static turned, lifted her Arclance and blasted a hole in the ice barrier Frostfire had created and ran for the dock and the Renegade’s means of escape. As she passed the entrance to the cafeteria, she saw Kriakos rounding the corner and entering the food prep area with a look of deadly glee - and intense hunger - upon his face.
Moments later, the rest of the Renegades arrived on the dock in time to hear screams of terror coming from the cafeteria.
Mentiad covers her ears to no avail as the fear, pain and last thoughts of the people in the cafeteria hammer into her mind. The invading thoughts and emotions fade as she manages to strengthen her defenses, but not before tears start to flow.
Bonecrusher suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked around. “Bonecrusher go home!” He moved to the edge of the dock and plunged over the side.
Static can’t help but feel relieved that the Renegades weren’t going to have to share boat space with Bonecrusher. _Sure hope he gets back to Sinistrix OK, or we may have to pay twice for the base._
As the boat pulled away from the dock, the Renegades looked back at the breached prison and saw two figures emerge from the shattered entrance. One of them turned into an eagle and flew away, quickly disappearing into the distance. Static could see the other was wearing what appeared to be a half-completed suit of power armor. The figure flew up into the air and approached the boat, coming to hover about 20 feet away.
The flying man looked at Static. “You must be the young lady I spoke with through the P.A. system.” He mimed tipping a hat at her. “Many thanks. Perhaps we could get together some day and trade blueprints.” He smiled then turned and flew off.
Static waved to the man she assumes to be Shrike as he flew off. She then turned to the rest of the team. “By my count, that’s three out of four escaped, and number 4 will be trying to escape once he finishes the staff. Close enough to a clean sweep for my tastes, shall we get out of here?”
Fade to black…
To be continued in our next exciting episode of The Renegades…
Popularity: 33% [?]
Sep
15
The back room in the rundown electronics parts store was crammed full of junk, leaving barely enough room for the rickety wooden desk and places for the Renegades to stand. Atop the desk was a state of the art desktop computer setup, complete with microphone and digital video camera.
It had taken a couple of days to set the meeting up. During that time the Renegades had pulled their stuff out of the warehouse and had set up housekeeping in a pair of suites at a local hotel. Static had been using the time to try and hack the Bank of Oregon computer system but was so far not having any luck.
The computer, which was on when they arrived, sprang to life as the modem connected, and an image of the fairy tale character Puss in Boots appeared on the screen. The cat was seated on a large rock, holding a fishing pole, and had a large satisfied grin on its face.
“You wanted to talk to me about a contract, Spectre?” A genderless computer-generated voice came from the speakers.
Frostfire looked at the computer screen in half-disgust. A cartoon character?! We’re dealing with a cartoon character?! Why did I hook up with these people… This job better start paying well. I need a challenge!
Puss in Boots?? Static didn’t have any problem with the idea of a computer icon to hide identity, and synchronizing the words with the cat’s mouth was a nice touch. The choice of icon struck her as a bit strange, though. Either a big cat fan, someone who wants to be underestimated and figures this will do it, or a weirdo — and from what Spectre said, I doubt it’s number three.
Static’s eyes ran over the computer setup. Nice rig, wonder who did the programming? She understood now why Spectre had given everyone strict ‘hands off’ instructions before they came over.
“Yes,” Spectre replied. “We need a base built preferably quickly, definitely undetected.”
“Do you have a set of specifications ready,” the cat asked.
Spectre nodded. “Along with detailed description of the equipment we want.”
“Very good,” the cat said. “Give me a brief outline of what you’re looking for.”
Spectre quickly and concisely described the base as well as the front building that the Renegades wanted.
The cat nodded. “There should be no problem meeting your requirements. You will, of course, have to provide the location for the base. I will be able to modify the interior and create the subterranean levels without attracting any attention. It should take approximately one month, after which your facilities will be in fully working order, including all subsystems and security.
“Now, time to negotiate my fee. You have a choice - either perform a small service for me, or give me $20 million, in cash, in the next 48 hours.” The cat smiled slyly. “If I were you, I’d go for the service.”
Spectre glanced around at his teammates quickly, then returned his attention to Sinistrix. “What’s the service you want?”
“I want one of my creations returned to me. His name is Bonecrusher, and he is currently being held on Devil’s Island.”
“Bonecrusher?” Mentiad asked. “He sounds like a violent individual. Is there any information on this person. A jailbreak on Devil’s Island is a news worthy excursion. Can we afford it?”
Frostfire piped in, “Well, nothing says WE have to be in the news when it breaks…”
“Not by name, anyway,” Spectre added.
Frostfire spoke up: “A creation? What is a ‘Bonecrusher’? And what info can you provide us on Devil’s Island? Any schematics or security details?” A glint of red energy flashed from his visor as his mind’s cogs turned…
“Jesus! Devil’s Island.” Goldwing exclaimed. “I’ve tried very hard for years not to get sent to a place like that and now you’re asking me to go there voluntarily. And after Bonecrusher no less. Word on the street is he’s a real nutbar. Probably try to plaster us while we’re breakin him out. You don’t ask for anything easy do ya puss.”
The cat smiled. “I will provide you with a ‘key’ that will tell Bonecrusher that you’re there to let him out and are working for me. That should protect you from him. Frostfire, you asked about schematics and security details. The do exist, but are not in my possession.” The cat’s smiled widened into a grin. “If I were paying you twenty million dollars I’d expect you to do a bit of your own legwork.
“The information you are seeking will be held by PNI, as they are the ones who designed and maintain the systems for the prison. It will be up to you to find that data and use it.”
Static grinned. “Since you’ve got a way to keep Bonecrusher from demonstrating how he got his name on one of us, I’m willing to take on Devil’s Island.
Hmmm… Frostfire thought to himself for a moment. Well, I certainly enjoy the idea of breaking a federal system…
“Ok, legwork we can do. The way I see it, we have a lot of options right here… Static, as our resident tech, you can try hacking into PNI and might be able to whip something up to take care of their security systems… Spectre and his disappearing skills could get into PNI and find out some info… Mentiad can use her psi powers into pick someone’s brain at PNI, maybe even go in with Spectre… and me and Goldwing can try to use our personal contacts on the street to find out more about the place… maybe find someone who’s been in the prison before.”
“Let’s see if we can find out more about the operations of the place… how often shifts change… when any tests are run on the systems… food/laundry services, etc. Those could lead to a way of getting in and out.” Everyone could feel Frostfire getting weirdly excited despite the lack of emotion on his face. His visor kept glowing softly…
“Subcontracting”, Static said with authority in her voice. “We need to see if PNI subcontracts anything connected to Devil’s Island. Even something as minor as sending new movies for the guards could give us a hook into their system. Maybe they’re not supposed to do anything out of house, but it’s such a common business practice they may do it anyway.”
“Actually,” Spectre remarked, “that sounds like a plan. A bit sketchy, of course, but a plan nevertheless. A plan of the prison including the security details should probably be first priority, followed by practical knowledge of the prison’s workings–and that means either someone who works there, or a former inmate.” He paused. “If anyone has objections to going ahead with this, say so now.”
“Things seem to be going well,” the cat said with a happy purr. “I’ll leave you to it. Contact me when you’re ready to go, and I’ll give you that key I talked about.” The Puss in Boots image waved at the Renegades, got up off the rock and walked off screen. A second later, the modem disconnected and the system shut down.
Frostfire looked up at everyone… “Well, the sooner we start this, the sooner we finish.” And we’ll be out of debt, he thought. “I’m thinking about three days of solid legwork should get the info we need to start planning the specifics. Let’s report back to give an update in three days, and if anyone needs anyone else’s help, just ask.”
“Good idea. Maybe we can infiltrate a subcontractor and get PNI to subcontract us,” Goldwing replied with a slight grin.
“Sir.” Mentiad said, turning to Spectre. “What is it you wish me to do?”
Static ignored Goldwing’s crack. “I’ll start checking on PNI as soon as I get back to my system. Let me know if anyone finds an employee with a weak point, especially if they have computer access. I could hack their system, but it’s always faster to use a backdoor.”
“Perhaps,” Spectre remarked, with a similar grin. “Assuming they *do* subcontract, of course.” He paused for a minute, then said, “Okay. Let’s get to it. Mentiad, you’re with me; we’re about to spend a couple of days that will prove to you beyond a reasonable doubt that Spying Is Not Like James Bond. We’re going to be observing PNI and Devil’s Island. I also need to know what everyone will be doing, specifically–let’s not miss a vital piece of data and end up breaking in for a few minutes, only to stay for a lifetime.”
Rumble sat in the miniscule, rundown, disgusting closet that the hotel manager dare to call a room. The money he had stashed away was just about gone, and he just knew that the people after him were closing in. It would only be a matter of time before they found him, and he still didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.
Trying to find work was a difficult proposition. He was in a strange city and certainly didn’t know anyone. Just when he was starting to consider the best way to take off and leave without paying his outstanding hotel bill, the phone rang.
He quickly answered it. A genderless, computer modulated voice replied to his greeting….
“A mercenary by the name of Frostfire has been asking a lot of questions about the Harbinger prison that’s off the coast from St. Augustine. He may be part of a team planning something, and that thing would be big. If you can get in contact with him, you may be able to work something out. He will need some muscle, and you need someone to watch your back - and a way to pick up some pocket change. If you are interested, call 555-9251 immediately after this call is over and leave the message ‘38′ after the tone. A meeting will be arranged.”
The line disconnected before Rumble had the chance to open his mouth.
Rumble sat back on his bed, his mind racing. He had been found. He knew he was not that good in hiding but to be surprised like this …
What if the people who were after him could find him as easily, or already had? He shook his head. “I need money and I need protection” he thought.
He sighed and looked at the phone. His enemies were not people who played games like this, were they? Hesitating would do no good. Rumble would have to act and turning to Frostfire seemed to be his only choice other than continue to run. The German dialed the number and whispered “38″.
“Now, America, get read for Rumble
“I don’t know how close you need to be to take over the security Static, but you should stay as far away as possible so it isn’t likely for you to be taken out while doing it. Since we’ll still likely have to fight armed guards, robots, whatever… Me and Goldwing will take the lead into the compound, with Spectre and Mentiad (maybe?!) taking out who they can, causing more confusion, whatever. Also, perhaps if you could release Bonecrusher before we waltz in, he could help decimate some of the staff too. Just make sure we have whatever it is for Bonecrusher to recognize us before we go in. Let’s set the time of attack and steps to the operation.”
As the last of the words come out his mouth, the beeper that Frostfire carries goes off.
“In your research on the facility did anyone find out a list of female employees when will be due on the island when we perform out job?” Mentiad asks her team mates. “As long as the female worker is not on the island and is due on the island soon then I might be able to make the current work detail think I am one of those women, as long as there is no mechanical verification.”
Frostfire looked at the message and excused himself to make a call. “Spectre, Static; you discuss some important elements to breaking into the island while I get this call.”
When Frostfire dialed up the service that recorded the voicemail messages for his pager, there was a single message waiting, in a voice that he recognized as the one that Sinistrix had used when they talked to her at their meeting. It gave a number that he was to call. When he did, there was a recorded message waiting:
“Considering the loss a former colleague of yours, I thought you might be needing some assistance on your current project. Be at the bear enclosure at the old zoo in two hours to meet him. He likes a good rumble now and then.”
Frostfire thought that the emphasis on rumble was odd for a moment, then realized that Sinistrix was probably giving him a clue - perhaps the name of the man they were to meet?
The phone rang in the dingy hotel room, startling Rumble from his thoughts. He answered the phone after the third ring.
“Bear enclosure, the old zoo, two hours. Wear your good suit.” The line went dead.
Frostfire hangs up the phone… *Hmmm… Well, I guess she thinks we need some help. And having someone to take some of the brunt would definitely be helpful here… She must really want this Bonecrusher ‘thing’ pretty badly. Although, more curiously, since I’ve never worked with Sinistrix before, how did she get my pager? Perhaps a mystery for another time…*
Frostfire came out and informed Spectre and the team of the message. “I guess I’ll be picking up a stray… Be back in a couple of hours. Spectre, continue laying out the times and patterns of the security systems, so we can make this go smoother than the last mission.”
Frostfire took off for the zoo, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.
“You be needing any backup, Frostfire? I’m not much use planning the high tech end of things but I can blend into the background at the zoo pretty well and watch your back for you.”
“Thanks, but no Goldwing… I go it alone. See you in a couple of hours.” *And get a little peace and quiet… some down time, flying alone.* Frostfire turned strategies and plans in his head as he flew to the old zoo.
Static turned back to the maps on the table. _Sinistrix wouldn’t have any reason to double-cross us, she’ll never get Bonecrusher back if she did. No point in breaking up the planning session to nursemaid Frostfire._ She commented to Spectre, “The closer we can get before any guards have a chance to notice, the better. They’re used to seeing the supply boat, that may be our best option.”
A few moments later, the phone rang again. “Be at the bear enclosure at the old zoo in two hours.” The line went dead.
Frostfire flies in to the meeting location and waits patiently…
And waits… and waits. It is very quiet at the old zoo… cage that once held natural wonders now sat empty and lifeless. “I can’t believe this! How unprofessional can you be? Damn amatures. Sinistrix will hear about this!”
After about an hour or so, Frostfire takes to the skies to go back to HQ and relate to Spectre what happened.
“This guy Sinistrix was hooking up with us was a no-show boss. I’d love to give her a piece of my mind! I think we’ll be fine, even without the back up.” Frostfire was still noticably bothered by this flagrant disregard for his professional ethics.
Continued in Jailbreak!
Popularity: 12% [?]
Sep
14
OSS - The Safe House Ain’t So Safe Anymore
Filed Under Other Side of the Street PBeM Game | Leave a Comment
Static groaned in pain, her head feeling as if someone was using her skull to practice with a hammer. Without opening her eyes, she gingerly reached up to touch the spot that was pounding. She winced when her fingers came in contact with a huge knot that was protruding from her head like a goose-egg.
She opened her eyes to see the other Renegades hovering around the cot she was lying on with concerned looks on their faces. Except for Frostfire, whose expression could be more readily described as… uncomfortable.
Static tried to sit up, but changed her mind before her head got more than an inch off the pillow. She sagged back onto the cot as the room spun around her. “What did those bastards do, booby trap their radio?”, she whispered. She’d intended to speak normally, but couldn’t quite manage it. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping the dizziness would ease. “Please tell me someone grabbed something to make the trip worthwhile.”
Mentiad tries her best to help/nurse Static. “Take it easy Static….”
Goldwing grins down at Static and put on his best good ole boy smile. “Easy there, Sweet Static. Don’t try to get up. We didn’t haul your pretty little butt back here just so you can fall on it. You just went a round with a bazooka, your entitled to be a little woozy.”
“No, the radio wasn’t booby-trapped,” Spectre replied, keeping his voice low. “At least, I don’t think it was. The problem was that the guy with the BFG fired on the van.” He paused for a moment. “And when you’ve recovered, I do have a little toy for you.” Spectre pulled a palm-sized device from his pocket. “I took this thing off of one of the khaki thugs. It seems to be a working harbinger detector.”
Goldwing looked at Spectre holding the scanner. “…See. The trip was not for nothing. Spectre managed to get a device for you to study and we managed to help a lot of the people at the rally get to safety and away from the danger and chaos.”
Frostfire watched the scene play out as Static recovers… “Well, this can’t be too good… Our numbers have been cut by two and our tech expert could have a concussion… We’re trying to set up shop too. We could use a little extra help and cash boss.” About time for a little extra spending cash too, since I am not getting paid much from this gig yet, he thought to himself. “What’s next on our agenda?”
Static’s eyes opened again. She’d been too groggy before to count heads, but the comment about “numbers cut by two” caught her attention. Her eyes ran over the group, with the absolute minimum amount of head motion needed. “Did Gremlin and Turncoat get grabbed by the cops, or did the khakis get them?” And is it worth going after them?
“Turncoat got grabbed by some probably fake medics,” Frostfire replied. “They don’t seem to be cops or Khaki’s so we don’t know who has him. As for Gremlin, he decided we weren’t fun enough and split.”
Goldwing turned to look at Spectre. “Ya know boss, if however grabbed Turncoat pumps him full of happy juice he could be babbling about us and this here warehouse right now. I don’t think we should stay here. You got a fall back location handy?”
“Not to mention, he had one of our radios with him; all our communications are now non-secure until I change the comlinks’ frequency.” Static’s voice began to sound a little stronger. “We might as well forget about tracking down Gremlin, short of rewiring that Harbinger scanner to cover the whole city in one sweep it’s not going to happen.” And that’s *one* way to keep him out of my equipment ….
Static turned her head, looking directly at Spectre. “Goldwing’s got a point about Turncoat, though with a name like that I have to wonder just how much resistance he’d be interested in putting up. I vote we get to the other side of town as fast as possible, even checking into an Embassy Suites for a couple nights would be safer than staying here.”
Frostfire looks discontented at what all has happened today. “Keeping on the move until we know more about what is going on is definitely in our best interests. We need to get set up permanently as quickly as possible though. Static, how quickly can you get our tech problems taken care of?”
Frostfire was still a little upset by the team’s performance, including his own, at the rally. Almost caught by HUMANS! Am I losing my touch? His face still looked stone cold and impassionate, as was normal for this hardened soul.
Static tried again, and this time managed to prop herself up on one elbow without falling o