Sting Operation (IC)

[Ari]

The bullets whizzed harmlessly past the caped agent as he rolled to safety, and with a weary sigh he decided that he had best try and dispose of the three men who were still giving him grief. Ducking quickly back around his cover, he let fly with three boomerangs, each meant for a different target.

He knew there was a greater danger in this, that he might well fail to take some of them down even if he did manage to score a hit; but the fight was unpleasant to him and he was almost desperate to finish it as soon as he could, the distant gunfire of his nightmarish adventures in Cambodia ringing in his ears.

[Lone Star]

Two of the boomerangs hit their marks, taking out two of the gunmen. Their submachine guns rattle into empty air, a few of the bullets richoteting off the metal walls of the warehouse as they clattered to the ground. The last gunman took a look around him, and nearly leapt down the stairs. His friend, who had been disarmed early in the fight, ran alongside him. "Sorry boss!" they practically said in unison as they dashed down the stairs and out of the warehouse. The two men in the booth stepped out, realizing they had met their match.

"I told you this wasn't a good place for the plant!" one of them said, holding his hands above his head. "Shut up, dude." the other one said, stomping on his toe.

Meanwhile, Mad Dog was still locked in combat with the hired muscle just outside the warehouse. The first strongman staggered limply around, and weakly threw a punch at Mad Dog. He dodged the hit easily, and threw a mighty fist at his muscular foe. It missed, but he followed it up with a Judo kick right to his chest. The man fell down, groaning weakly. His friend walked over to Mad Dog, and smiled like a lunatic. "I'm gonna have fun beating you up, leather freak. I'll start by snapping your neck." To demonstrate, he cracked his neck. "It won't be pretty." Mad Dog was disturbed by this thought, and especially the smile of the big man. He still kept his stance, although a slight shudder went through his body. Come on, Gregory. Keep your cool.

[Ari]

Jumping elegantly from his hiding spot, the King of Suits whipped out two bolos, which he twirled around his forearm and slung off at the two suited men, calling out jovially "Heads up mates!" as the whirling balls hurtled towards the purveyors of pain and misery.

Now, he just had to get to Mad Dog and help him out with his problems. From what he could hear, the two guards out front were still at it, though He thought that one had gotten awfully quiet a few moments ago.

He took out his grapple gun, which he aimed at the ruined skylight above him. A quiet voice in the back of his head wondered aloud if the owner of the place would be angry about what had happened here.

Marceau delicately ignored the question.

[Lone Star]

One of the men in the suits, however, managed to dodge out of the way of the King's bolas. He grabbed one of the boxes and wrenched it open, revealing huge packages of Zoom. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?" his friend said, on the floor and unable to move. "I'm going to take this asshole down!" he said, and grabbed a handful of the potent drug. "DUDE! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SNORT IT!" his friend shouted, struggling against his bonds. It was too late, though, and the man snorted the drug, and almost immediately collapsed to the floor. He twitched for a few moments, blood leaking from his eyes and nose, and then slowly got to his feet. "Well, that wasn't so bad." he said with a devilish grin, and ran right at the King of Suits!

Outside, Mad Dog was still not on his A-game, so to speak. He threw a punch at the strongman, but he easily dodged the hit with a contemptuous laugh. "I'm still not down. Now you're gonna pay!" he said, throwing his massive fist towards Mad Dog. The leather-clad avenger dodged weakly to one side, trying to keep his concentration up. Where's the King of Suits? he wondered to himself.

[Ari]

Where he was was in front of a speeding Zoom-user, staring down the hitherto-harmless peddler in grief in a state of abject shock. The sensation passed with great speed however, and a deep fury began to build at his recklessness. He ought to have gotten the speedster-making drug out of the reach of anyone likely to try and use it first, rather than resorting to theatrics like that Jack of All Blades guy he'd caught a glimpse of once or twice in West End. Now, he thought as the Zoom-peddler barreled towards him, he would have to pay for his foolhardiness. He desperately figured how he ought to deal with the situation he was in. He could beat the speedster, he hoped, especially as the man was new to his powers and thus unaware of their full use. He decided that if he could block the man's sight he would be able to simply goad the man into running full-tilt into one of the many hard surfaces available.

But first he must evade the rain of blows he knew would soon come.

[Lone Star]

Sure enough, the suited man ran at him with the reckless abandon of a Zoom-user. His fists swung wildly at the King of Suits, and what seemed like a thousand blows sped towards him at the pace of a Mac truck. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME! A-HA-HA-HA!" he screamed, and after his volley of punches, he sped to the other side of the building. Between bursts of speed, he bounced around like a hyperactive child, taunting the King.

On the other side of the door, Mad Dog was fighting for his life. He ran around to the side of the strong man, and put all of his strength into one flying kick. It hit the man right between the eyes and he fell without another word, his nose bleeding profusely. Mad Dog stood over him for a moment, tutting him with his finger. "Now do you believe me, buddy? You'll have a while to rethink your strategies for next time, that is, if you're not too old when you get out." After making sure the man was unconscious, he quickly opened the steel doors to the warehouse. He watched the manic speedster run towards the King of Suits, fists flying. "I'm coming, King!" he shouted, and ran into the fray.

[Ari]

Marceau wasn't exactly a neophyte in the 'being outclassed horribly' discipline. For many years he had been simply unable to fight the people set against him, and it had in fact been one of the driving forces in his heart that kept him practicing with his now-lost powers.

The years of tedious efforts in making small cubes of half-formed geometric shapes came back to him in vivid detail as the Zoom-enhanced man rained blows down on him, his body shuddering and violently bending up the unending torrent. In that instant Marceau hated the suited man who was hitting him more than he had hated anyone else in his life. Between his(painfully) half-open eyes he saw the man's face, his wide eyes and manic grin, the teeth barely covering the red mouth that shot out the unintelligible syllables with a force that crashed into his ears almost as hard as the punches seemed to smash through his body armor.

He loathed the man. In an instant this fellow had obtained power beyond any he had been able to in all his years of training. And all he seemed to know to do with it was punch his really fast. And he was winning.

He was winning.

You putrid wretch, thought Marceau as he collapsed to the ground, coughing painfully as the Zoomed-up man whizzed around the factory, all that power and you aren't even testing your limits first. But action was called for, and he must continue to fight. He knew that, if he could just get away from the man, he could best him. He'd have to get to higher ground if that was to work.

He soon figured it out. Throw down a smoke bomb, swing back through the removed pane in the sky-light, drop a flash-bang on him and then proceed to the pummeling.

But the blows had been too crippling for him to even think of moving, at least for the moment. When Mad Dog burst in fresh from his victory over the bulked-up guards, he could only cough feebly by way of explanation and expression of relief.

[Lone Star]

Mad Dog barrelled towards the hopped-up speedster, one arm pulled behind his head. He figured he would land a good hit while the bastard had his back turned. The man turned one second too late, and Mad Dog's fist plowed into his face. The man screeched in pain and fell to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth. His lips were swelling larger, and he gave Mad Dog the finger and muttered something awful. "Well that's what you get for trying to attack real superheroes. And plus, you've got a glass jaw. So just do yourself a favor and stand down. King, doin' okay, buddy?"

[Ari]

Staggering to his feet, Marceau gave Mad Dog a shaky thumbs-up "I'm alright, not great but I should be fine for now. Let me hamper our speedster's getaway if you don't mind" he said, flinging a flash/bang at the Zoomer's head. It was poorly aimed, and he cringed as it left his hand, but he sent it with as much aplomb as he could muster. It made him almost sick to admit it to himself, but he felt a surge of quite undignified and downright evil pleasure at seeing the Zoom-user humbled so by Mad Dog.

Turning quickly he stumbled over to the large front door of the factory, seized the metal handle and slammed the steel doors shut, locking them as he did so. Putting his back to the cold alloy he faced the two combatants, ready to head back into the fray if the Zoomer proved unfazed by the fists of Mad Dog and the flash/bang.

[Lone Star]

The Zoom-user managed to raise his arm just enough so that he wasn't affected by the flash-bang. He smiled weakly, and gave the King of Suits the finger. "You should respect your elders." Mad Dog retorted, running towards the villain. He held his arm back, and threw a haymaker at the Zoom-user. The man rolled with the punch, but caught the tail end of it on his chest. He whirled around, his legs moving faster than any man's could.

The King of Suits slammed the doors of the warehouse shut, locking the speedster inside. "It's just you and us, speedy."

[Ari]

Now that the doors were closed and locked(though Marceau was well-aware that the Zoom user could open them at least four times faster than he had closed them), the King of Suits turned back to his erstwhile tormentor. His eyes bright, the pain in his torso tolerable, and the smell of victory in the air, he became careless.

Not for the last time.

He didn't bring back his arm hard or fast enough, and though his aim was impeccable(anticipating the speedster's movements was no easy feat), his strike simply wasn't powerful enough.

He hurled himself at the suited man and did his best to punch him in the face, to no noticeable effect.

He deeply loathed the man now.

[Lone Star]

The speedster laughed as he threw the King's arm out of the way. "You're so pathetic! None of you old geezers have nearly enough balls to even try to take me on! You're nothing but a bunch of idiots playing-" He was cut off by Mad Dog's fist slamming straight into his jaw. The two of them could hear a faint crackling sound as the man's teeth broke in his skull. He limply collapsed to the ground, out cold in a moment. "Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Mad Dog and the Kiiiiiiing of Suits!" Mad Dog triumphantly shouted. His words echoed in the empty building, reverberating off the walls. The dealers were caught, and their two strongmen lay outside, unconscious.

One of the suited men was still lying on the floor, his arms still restrained by the bolas. "Can one of you guys at least loosen these up a bit for me?"

[Ari]

Slightly embarrassed by Mad Dog's exuberance at what he considered an actually rather botched job, Marceau raised a more subdued cheer: "Hurrah for the fists of Mad Dog! Fellers of strongmen and speedsters alike!"

Shaking off the now-dismal feeling of satisfaction at the violent takedown of the suited men, Marceau strolled over to the conscious counterpart of the now insensible Zoom seller. His eyes now like two needles of blue fire coming from the hollows of his partially-concealed face, and his voice taking on a lower and more menacing tone than he had used in many a long year. His hands visibly reaching for his utility belt.

"I dunno, Mad Dog. On the one hand it's not like he could, say, get a nose-full of that Zoom stuff and beat us to within an inch of our lives now that he's seen how that ends up. On the other hand, perhaps he might feel a bit more inclined to telling us who was buying and who was selling this stuff. Might be of use to us, you know? What do you say, O feller?" he asked a bit cheekily.

[Lone Star]

The man in the suit did something neither of them expected- he started to cry! "Oh, oh please. Don't hurt me. Don't beat me up." he said between hitching sobs. "Oh for the love of-" Mad Dog started, putting a hand over his forehead. "It's not for selling. Well, I say that. This guy wanted it. Just one guy. I just heard his voice over the phone. I swear to God, I'm just a rich kid from uptown! Don't beat me up!"

Mad Dog took the young man from the King of Suits hands and grabbed him by his collar. "Eek! He's in the Fens! The guy you're looking for is in the Fens! The address is on my phone!" Mad Dog reached into the man's suit jacket, and pulled out his phone. "Thanks, kid. You've been very helpful to us. Now stay here until the police arrive, or we'll be forced to take drastic measures. He nearly cracked up at the last line, but the young man took him seriously, and obediently sat on the floor. "So, King. Up for a little more fun tonight?

[Ari]

Smiling kindly, Marceau bent down and slackened the bolo slightly around his ankles and wrists. "I thank you as well! You've been of great help to us"

In reply to Mad Dog's offer of more fun, he clapped him heartily on the shoulder and gave him the 'one second' sign with his finger.

Moving quickly, he restrained the fallen gunmen with his bolos, tying them to pillars, support struts and the other metal complexities that made up much of the factory's interior. Once finished, he walked back over and said simply "I very much am, Mad Dog! Lead the way" he readied his grapple gun and unlocked and opened the large doors, feeling the cooler breeze of the gloomy decay that made up so much of the Fens, and wondered what it would take to heal this area of the city. He leaned against the open door, ready and waiting.

[Lone Star]

Mad Dog watched as the King of Suits tied up the gunmen, and nodded approvingly. "Excellent work, King of Suits. I'd be more than happy to lead." He pulled out his cell phone and updated the coordinates for the buyer's place of residence. "Hmm. Well, that's interesting. Let's hit the road."

The two heroes leapt from rooftop to rooftop, making quick time to their destination. Within about half an hour, they arrived. It was a seedy apartment zone, rarely used, and dilapidated from years of neglect. The building itself looked ready to crumble, and they could practically smell the illegal activities oozing out of the walls. "Nice place he's got." The buyer lived on the fifth floor out of eight. Mad Dog surveyed the scene, and looked to the King of Suits. "You ready for this? I don't exactly know what this guy's got here."

[Ari]

Marceau shrugged "In that case we ought to make another reconnaissance mission. I'll do a quick scan from the roof down, you check around the grounds. Sound good?" his legs were still shaking from shock and the sudden bursts of effort he'd been making recently, but his voice didn't sound winded, something he felt comforting.

The run over had been wonderful for clearing his head, the monotonous movement and seedy dullness of the Fens all but forcing him to confront himself over his hatred for the Zoom user. He was used to second-guessing his motives and feelings on most things, and he spent most of his time ruminating over events that had occurred earlier since he was a child, so he largely skipped the intervening period where he might have forgotten the incident and recalled it later.

He had to confess, he hadn't had any idea he missed his own powers so badly that just seeing someone else gain powers would spark dislike I wonder if Mad Dog knows any powers he thought. Then he decided he might as well cut to the chase.

Turning to Mad Dog he said "By the way, do you know many other heroes with powers Mad Dog?"

[Lone Star]

Mad Dog nodded. "A few of 'em, yeah. I'm...pretty good friends with Gossamer." Having a secret identity wasn't something he liked- Gossamer's "public" boyfriend was Gregory Matthews, his secret identity. He imagined he'd tell the King of Suits, but that would a story for another day. "I don't remember any other names, I guess I don't know that many superheroes!" He laughed quietly to himself. "I'll head down there and check things out. Stay up here for a second until I get back."

He took the fire escape down to the bottom floor, trying to make as little noise as possible. It wasn't easy- his heavy biker's boots made clomping noises which he could have sworn echoed across the street. Mad Dog paused for a moment, and for about a minute he stood there, listening for any people stirring. Luckily, he didn't hear anyone, so he made his way to the ground. Once there, he walked towards the entrance to the apartment. Mad Dog opened the door, and peered inside. Nothing unusual, just a crappy apartment. The ground floor was completely silent, apart from the chittering of roaches crawling across the floor. He cautiously stepped into the foyer, ready at a moment's notice to fight. Despite his alertness, no junkie armed with a .44 sprung out at him. He let his fists down, with nearly a hint of disappointment. Mad Dog walked back outside, and waved his arm at the King of Suits, beckoning him to come down to the ground floor.

[Ari]

Marceau listened with interest. In truth, he knew hardly any other heroes in the city, and he was honestly curious what they were like. He resolved the ask more about this 'Gossamer' later. For now, he simply said "Interesting. Guess our low mobility makes us less likely to meet other heroes that often" and kept a careful watch on the surrounding street for signs of danger.

When Mad Dog re-emerged and signaled him to descend, he did so. Firing his grapple line at the edge of the building he fell quietly and quickly, taking care to scan inside each window he passed. Nothing out of the crumbling, decaying ordinary caught his eye.

In about a minute's time, he had touched down next to Mad Dog. Turning to the other vigilante he murmured "So, I didn't see anything. Think we got here too late? Too early?"

[Lone Star]

"I'm not exactly sure. I figured it would be worth it to check the situation out. It's worth assuming that our dealers called ahead. I figured we'd check out the guy's apartment, and see if we can get any evidence on him. If we find anything...who this guy is, where he's going, maybe we can search him out. The amount of Zoom he needed can't be for anything good." Mad Dog opened the doors to the apartment complex again, and walked in with the King of Suits. As before, the apartment complex was completely silent. "I'm a bit suspicious, unless he gave them the wrong address. Let's go upstairs- that's where the guy said our buyer was."

The two of them walked up the wooden staircase, which creaked beneath their feet. The walls of the hallway were covered in graffiti, and some of the doors were off their hinges. At the end of the hallway, they found their room. Mad Dog looked at the door for a moment, then turned back to the King of Suits. "So, you ready?"

[Ari]

Marceau followed as quietly as he was able. The disintegrating interior made that practically moot, as his every step caused something to snap or crumble, but he stolidly kept stepping lightly and quietly, no sense in forgoing the possibility to get the drop on someone twice in a night.

The gloomy surroundings at least gave him something to think about, and as they walked through the moldering place he mentioned them to Mad Dog every now and then sotto voce "You know, meeting here would actually be pretty dangerous. You'd need overwhelming force to keep yourself safe if you're in the Fens and a crime boss" "Do you think there's some kind of scouting group that goes to these places before a meeting?" "They must not keep much in the walls here. Be a real danger of the stuff being lost in the crumbling support structure"

He quickly became utterly silent however, as the oppressive atmosphere affected him much more deeply than he wished to risk showing. When Mad Dog asked if he was ready, he simply patted his utility belt and nodded.