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"Yeah," said Joe, returning the kiss. "but weirdly, I think there are a number of cases where that wouldn't entirely work. I mean, I guess if I was in that position, I'd happily take a payout if it meant I didn't get punched in the face, but... I think there are some henches out there who really take pride in their work." He put his hand on Asli's shoulders, joining in the embrace. "They gotta earn their pay. Or the punch in the face. Either way." 

 

While still maintaining the embrace, he pulled out a cheap model smartphone and pulled up Google Maps. "So, Hanover. How do we want to take this? You take the rooftops and the vantage points, I take the back alleys and corners? Or we wanna switch it up this time?" 

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Asli backed off and began shifting her weight from side to side, loosening up her muscles for the long run up highway 6. "I'll take the streets tonight," she said. "You can sit on rooftops and brood over the city. I hear that's awesome for the glutes."

 

In no time at all the pair were north of the river, speeding through the high tech district of town. There was a surprising amount of nightlife for a place that seemed dominated by big tech firms, but there were plenty of people out and about on this Saturday night. For all the crowds, though, there didn't seem to be any crime at all. Miras and Cannonade stopped an impending car accident with a spot of super-speed and jumping about, but if there were secret criminal masterminds in the press then they were doing a damn good job keeping quiet.

 

The pair reconvened on a rooftop across from the HIT, where Miras could watch strange lights flickering in one or another lab. "Hard to imagine, but the criminal element might not be out tonight," she said. "If this group is trying to horn in on established gigs, though, they might be operating farther up the food chain than the street. Maybe we should check out Greely Street, or even Machine. See if the local dealers are sending their money to new addresses."

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"Good idea," said Cannonade. He was still flexing his hands from the near car wreck. He may have been damn tough, but catching a speeding car with two hands still resulted in some blunt impact on the joints. Still - if they accomplished nothing else tonight (and he hoped they did), they'd done some good. He scanned the area, but it was still as sedate - yet busy - as ever. "There's also Hanover Square. The real estate is slightly more upscale, but that could just make for fancier fronts. I'll take Greely Street, you can take Hanover Square, and we'll meet back up at Machine." He grinned. "We can go in together. Think you might match the music, and I'd match the, uh... patrons." 

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  • 5 weeks later...

Miras shook her head slightly. "Machine is hardly my kind of club," she said dryly, before taking to the skies and flying down the street. That left Cannonade to head in the opposite direction, hopping from rooftop to rooftop as he made his way through the district. As he did so, he noticed a preponderance of flashy, glitzy cars headed in one direction. At a whim he turned to follow them, tracking a Lamborghini and a Jaguar to a seedy garage underneath the bypass. Jameson Airport was just the other side of the fence, and maybe that's why no one noticed the shape flitting above them as the pulled the high-class cars into a low-class building. And maybe the sound of aircraft landing and taking off explained why they shut the door so quickly, instead of leaving it open while they worked on such a warm evening. On the other hand, with the airport and the Hanover Bypass and State Route 6, it was the perfect, secluded place for a chop shop. Cut the cars apart, ship the more recognizable bits north or west out of the state, and anything too hot could be flown out of the country in a personal airplane. It was too much of a chance to ignore.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Of course. Cannonade realized that stealth was not his best approach. While he'd gotten better at it over the years, there were still times that he felt like a rhino tap dancing across glass - and tonight felt like one of those nights. Fortunately, he was a hero of some repute - and with that repute came certain allowances. Especially when he had a somewhat well-known means of getting around the city. 

 

"Got movement at Jameson," he said to Miras over the phone. "Fancy cars at the wrong time of night for shipping. About to crash the party." He moved back a few blocks, then took a standing leap. As he'd assumed, he landed right on top of the garage - and with enough force to crash through the skylight. He landed right in the middle of the floor, softly, and looked up at the crowd around him. 

 

"Damnit!" he said. "Sorry, I'm usually better about that." He made a motion as if moving for his wallet. "I can take care of that. Sorry, guys, just expanding the patrol to a new neighborhood and all..." 

 

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  • 1 month later...

Cannonade smashed through the skylight and landed in the middle of the garage, sending muscled and grease-stained men scattering. Most of them were long-time citizens of Freedom City; then knew what it meant when someone made an entrance like that and they ran for the exits or tried to hide behind half-dissembled hulks of muscle cars. At first it seemed like no one was going to give even token resistance, but then Cannonade saw the man climbing out of the pit. Fit, shorter than cannonade but with muscles packed on top of muscles, the man casually reached out and picked up a tire iron before bending it straight. "Better have money for that hole in the roof, cape," he said. "Or I'm gonna take it out of your skin."

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Yeah. Highly doubted this was going to be a "normal" operation.

 

Cannonade raised his hands. "It's all right," he said. "Mind you, left my checkbook in my other costume, but I can spot you for the first payment on the window. And, assuming you haven't moved the shop to a new casing by the time I come back, I can spot you the rest on a check." He looked around. "Then again... there's a lot more valuable things you could lose. Lots of machine parts here, after all. Two big guys, super strong, most likely tough as well, likely pounding the crap out of each other from wall to wall... do you really want to damage the merchandise? Or do you, maybe, want to answer a few of my questions, not get the snot beat out of you, and maybe still get to make a profit?" 

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