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An Eastern Seaboard Bank in Wading Way, Freedom City

October 19th, 2020

11:45 AM


It was peak hour, just around lunch. Everyone wanted to get banking done today, it seemed, and the bank had been stuffed when the gunmen arrived, rushing out of two armored vans and into the bank. They moved quickly, efficiently. They were trained, not just the run of the mill thugs, and they had the equipment to back it up. They were all dressed in black body armors with blacks masks that left only their eyes free.


It wasn't quite clear what had happened inside, but a single shot was fired, followed by a burst of gunfire, and then, the hostage situation began.


Ten minutes later the police had barricaded the bank. All they knew was that if anyone entered, the gunmen would start shooting the hostages.


No demands, nothing. It was a stalemate.

Edited by RocketLord
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It was Anthony's weekend, having just finished working nine days in a row as an electrician. He was at home, aboard the STS New Beginnings. A small shuttlecraft used to ferry people and equipment from orbital platforms to planetary surfaces, it was now buried underground, hidden beneath an abandoned construction site. Heavily damaged from its trip through a black hole and its subsequent reappearance inside an abandoned subway line, the STS New Beginnings was in sorry shape. And so Anthony found that while he wasn't working his day job as an electrician, he continued to work as an electrician as he tried to repair the ship.


In the privacy of his home, he was thankfully able to wear his SPIDER Rig, using its suite of tools to aid him in his work. He was currently hanging from the ceiling, three mechanical legs holding him in place, while the fourth held an access plate out of the way. He was elbows deep in a nest of electrical wiring and fiber optic cabling, trying to trace back an electrical short. His metal clad fingers traced along a particularly thick power cable, when his work was interrupted by the ships onboard computer chirping to life. He looked over to the monitor, craning his neck to see what was happening.


News coverage played on the screen silently; an aerial view, presumably from a helicopter, covering a bank robbery in progress. Anthony deftly dropped from the ceiling, a pair of mechanical legs quickly replacing the service hatch. His fingers flew across the holographic keyboard of the computer, switching through the available camera angles and accessing the police communications system. A tinny voice crackled to life over the speakers; a police dispatcher was scrambling to coordinate a response. It looked like Anthony's third job was calling for him.




Anthony travelled through the city quickly. Each mechanical leg was capable of firing steel cable tethers, normally used for moving heavy objects in zero gravity. Anthony had soon discovered that they were also useful for swinging through the city. He often enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness and freedom as he hurtled through the air, a distant reminder of what it felt like to be in zero gravity. Today, however, his mind was focused entirely on the job at hand. While he had done some small time hero work in the past (back alley robberies and the like), this was the first time he would be arriving on the scene to something newsworthy. He swung around the corner of a building, arcing gracefully around and towards the ground, ending in a jog that brought him before the cabal of cops that stood outside the bank.


"Antho- uhh, Steel Spider, at your service. What's the situation?"

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"Yeesh, where did you come from?" The officer in charge looked at Steel Spider, nearly spilling his coffee in the process. He wasn aolder man, probably a few years away from retirement. He looked the hero up and down for a moment. "Steel Spider? Never heard of you."


He seemed to think it over for a moment, before motioning towards the bank with his other hand. "We got a hostage situation here. Bunch of guys in full tactical gear came in those two trucks," he motioned towards the armored trucks, "run into the bank, start shooting at people, some security guard draws his weapon and get gunned down for his trouble. Someone starts the alarm, and here we are."


"There's at least 10 bad gys there, according to witnesses." He paused to point at a group of people standing behind some cars, being interviewed by a few other officers. "So, what do you think you can do about that, hero?"

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Anthony chewed his lip, thankful that his helmet hid the concern on his face. The most criminals he had handled at once was three, and there was never more than two guns involved. He gazed at the bank in thought. If a guard was gunned down for trying to resist, he could only imagine what would happen if a hero kicked down the door. His suit could survive all but the heaviest of firepower, but the thugs were just as likely to turn their weapons on the hostages.


"Question one; how many hostages do they have? Question two; how much natural light is in the bank? Skylights, windows, that sort of thing. Question three; can we cut power to the building? Question four; have they said what they want? Question five; do we have ready access to building blueprints? Final question; do we have access to camera feeds in the bank?"


Anthony rattled the questions off quickly, never taking his eyes off the building. He didn't expect the officer to have answers to every question, but every little bit helped. A plan was starting to formulate in his mind. It was a rough idea, barely worth calling a plan. He was certain he would try to get in quietly, and hopefully take down at least a few of the gunmen before his presence was noted. After that, he would do his best to separate the hostages from the danger and handle the rest of the gunmen. 

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"We don't know. The bank was packed." The officer stared strangely at him at the natural lights question, and gestured to the building. It was on the bottom of an office building, at least twenty floors tall. The front of the bank had large glass doors , but otherwise didn't show much of what was happening inside. It didn't have a lot of natural light from what they could see.


"Look, we don't know. Man, this isn't some movie. Look, it all happened a few minutes ago, they haven't made any demands beyond leaving them alone or they'll start shooting hostages and we can't just pull the power to an entire block like that." He seemed frustrated, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. "Look, just... If you got something, try. Just... keep people safe, please."

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Anthony nodded, hoping he looked calm as he tried to psyche himself up for what was coming. "Alright. Keep an ear on your radio. I shouldn't need backup, but banks shouldn't get robbed, so..." He trailed off, then cleared his throat. "Keep an ear on your radio". He chose an arbitrary window, about eight stories up, and fired a pair of steel cables on either side of it. He zipped up to the side of the building, all eight limbs clinging to the stonework, and peered through the glass. while reasonably sure this would be a safe entrance, he certainly didn't want to burst through a window and directly into the party. He tried to focus past the reflection of his faceless helmet, searching the interior for any movement.

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From his position outside the window, he didn't see anyone moving around on the eight floor. The building had been evacuated, leaving the upper floors empty for now. If the bank robbers were on the upper floors, they didn't seem to be patrolling the eight, at least. The bank was on the ground floor, only taking up the first two floors of the building. Approaching from the eight floor let the Steel Spider sneak closer. 


He could see a door marked with a symbol for stairs. Otherwise it looked like some kind of open office plan, with small cubicles spread around. 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Anthony gently tried the window, and was able to slowly ease it open. He slipped through and into the offices, stalking along the ceiling as quietly as he could. "So far so good" he whispered to himself. He moved along the ceiling to the stairwell. Though not much time had passed since he first arrived on scene, he still felt an overwhelming sense of urgency, as if he was moving too slowly. He took a deep breath, calming himself, and focused on the task at hand. Down the stairs, into the lobby, don't be seen, then.... then something else. He would figure that part out when he got there. 

He tried the door to the stairs, and was dismayed to find that it was locked. Not much of an obstacle for him, be he couldn't help but think it was a fire hazard. From one of the hard shelled carrying pouches of his suit, he withdrew a set of lockpicks and began to work on the door. It only took a moment before a there was a soft click, and the lock turned freely. He slipped the picks back into the pocket, and eased the door open. 

Still on the ceiling, he crept through the doorway and began to make his way down the stairwell, heading for the bank below.

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Moving further down, it didn't take long for Anthony to reach the stairs that led to the bank. The door was closed and locked, of course. There was a small window at eye height. Peeking inside Anthony would be able to see a man dressed in dark grey combat fatigues and body armor moving around a corner, with two men and a woman on the floor next to the wall. 


He couldn't see more of the bank from here, there was a wall about 15 feet from the door, where you could only go left. 


A single man, three hostages, and a locked door.

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