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Normally when you yell "Look out, they're going to blow", you expect a flash of light, seering heat and a very loud boom; what you do not expect is John Phillip Sousa. Casey had thrown herself prone and covered her head, but now she stood up and gazed into the sky, truly bewildered. 

"What the heck is going on? Is this all just some...bizarre supervillain prank?"

But then she noticed IR flashes all over the ground, and she quickly took to the air. "Heat! We've got heat all over the place! Something's going on down there!"

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Argonaut was not amused by the turn of events.  The Free Drone had jettisoned herself towards Cannonade in the hopes of taking him airborne before a massive explosion erupted.  Unaware if the man could fly or otherwise avoid what was sure to be a dangerous counterattack.  But, there was no danger.  Not that Argonaut could measure.  Instead, they were treated to childish spectacle.  And...well she actually didn't know what else.  Just that it was hot.

"Hidden weaponry.  Maybe an underground silo or hidden radioactive meta-humans could possibly be at work.  If so at this distance, I believe my flesh would melt before the armor itself.  It could be rather painless if the source burns hot enough."  Argonaut responded rather calmly to Miracle Girl's declaration.  Not actually certain of the source of the heat signature it seemed a safe estimate to keep something dangerous or volatile underground.  Keeps it out view, and makes it hard to steal.

The AEGIS agent wasn't sure of the how or what of what needed to be done.  But, it was clear where they needed to head.  Once they found the underground access.  Maybe Miss Americana has access to this base's floor plan?  She had her own fireworks show to attend to.  With the museum in mind Argonaut took off.  

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"Oh hell no, you aren't getting away that easily, you son of a bitch," MIss Americana muttered, her furious face and profane talk quite a departure from the photogenic paragon's usual mien. She slapped a hand down on the nearest computer panel and concentrated, her eyes all but shooting visible fire. Argonaut arrived on the scene just in time to see her knees buckle as she keeled over, senseless on the floor. 

Inside the local internet, Cyberknife stretched out her senses, opening "eyes" that would let her see the shifting patterns of data that marked travel here. Freebooter had obviously left the robot before it had blown up, but where had he gone? And what else had he sabotaged along his way? 

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Cannonade threw his arm up in front of his eyes as the head of his mechanical double burst into a blinding display of fireworks. He could feel the rush of air as Argonaut moved towards him, and was about to leap away from what he thought might be a massive explosion... as the deafening patriotic anthem washed over him. As the music started to die down, he started to gather his wits again. Well, he thought, guess it's gonna be a while before I meet the asshole version of me. 

Once that thought worked his way out, he started to feel angry. Someone had decided to jerk him around with a robotic parody of himself as... what? Some sort of performance art? A lame-ass satire reflecting a cracked mirror's view of himself? Did they really think he was some sort of curb-stomping, strength-worshipping thug for the government? 

I'd say it makes me want to kick their teeth in, but... 

He looked around. "I'm halfway tempted to kick in the floor and get down there directly," he said, "but I got a feeling that won't make us friends with the brass. So..." He began looking around the warehouse, looking for some sort of entry hatch. 

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It was at this moment Argonaut realized her good fortune in working with heroes with a proper channel to communicate to in the past.  If she tried to radio out, she was pretty sure the only frequency she could luck out and find would be an army walkie talkie which defeated the purpose of a private line of communication.  Unless the stunning CEO was hiding a communicator in her ear.  Which, considering Miss Americana ran a place with tech in the name, Argonaut wasn't going to rule out as a possibility.  Yves just had to settle with the fact that she wasn't going to be able to keep the others updated or vice versa.

Crouching forward the AEGIS agent began to poke the woman on the ground.  "Miss Americana?  Are you alright?"  Warily keeping an eye out, in case this was yet another robotic practical joke.  The music playing out of the fake duplicate's heads had already lost its luster after the threat of it looping for another go round.  Should I see if a doctor is available if she doesn't respond?  She is an acquaintance of Steve's.  That is more than enough reason to take the appropriate steps.

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

"I don't know; maybe we should check on Miss A first? We haven't heard from her; maybe her double was for real dangerous, and she's still fighting it."

She followed after Argonaut, using her IR to look for any traces of her passage; with flight speed, she soon caught up with the former Omegadrone, and was horrified to see one of her idols crumpled on the ground. 

"Oh God, she's down! Argo, what happened?"

Without hesitation, she flew to her side and began to check her vitals and look for signs of trauma. 

Edited by Heritage
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Projected, Cyberknife found that the landscape around NSA headquarters had changed significantly since her last 'trip' here some years earlier. She could follow Freebooter's familiar trail towards the building itself, but the defenses there were too great for her to enter without making a significant effort, and once inside there would be no telling exactly where he was. There were plenty of places in that building not covered by computers or security cameras connected to anything outside of that place; but she was fairly confident he was somewhere in that building. 

-

Miss Americana, to all appearances, was breathing normally and otherwise healthy - simply unconscious to Miracle Girl and Argonaut's examination. Steve had spoken little to Yves about his lover; only that her power and intelligence were both exceedingly great, and that she had an untold mastery of machines. 

One thing about Freebooter was that he never could resist the urge to taunt.

0h c0m3 0n cyb3rkn1f3 - 7h47 w45 4 l177l3 funny! n3x7 71m3 4ny0n3 7h1nk5 0f 4rch373ch 601n6 cr4zy - 7h3y'll 7h1nk 0f h1l4r10u5 f1r3w0rk5!

The glowing green message floated right in front of her 'eyes', hovering in the middle of cyberspace. 

1'm d01n6 4 c1v1c 53rv1c3! 1f 7h3 60v3rnm3n7 d035n'7 pr073c7 7h31r 53cr375, 7h3y d353rv3 70 637 r1pp3d 0ff. m4yb3 n3x7 71m3 7h3y'll b3 m0r3 c4r3ful.

-

"Excuse me!" The man who ran up into the wrecked-open museum gave Miss Americana a frightened look before looking over the other two heroes. In his rumpled suit and misplaced combover, the red-faced man looked like more like an overexerted middle manager than a spy. "Oh no...we have a man who needs evacuation too," he said, "one of the civilians on our headquarters tour. Can one of you assist us?" 

 

Edited by Avenger Assembled
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"I don't know.  She seemed to have just collapsed.  I do not know if she was attacked.  Or if this is an effect of one of her powers at work.  She seems outwardly healthy at least."  Argonaut responded with a completely amateur health evaluation.  "But, I am not a doctor."

 

When the red faced man entered the room, the woman beside the armor was left at an impasse.  Not wanting to leave Steve's girlfriend undefended if her current state was due to the villainous plot at work.  But entirely unwilling to leave someone in harm's way as well.  "You are faster than I am.  Could you help this man?" Yves  earnestly asked Miracle Girl.  There didn't seem to be any immediate above ground danger.  At least nothing like the blaring heat signature they saw from below that would make her think such a proposition would be placing the youth in danger.

 

Actually where's Cannonade, he didn't come to check on Miss Americana's situation as well?  Maybe he found an entrance below.

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"Give me a break, Freebooter," Cyberknife shot back, "If you're going to stir the pot for your own sick amusement at least own up to it, don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining. You wanted attention and you got it, you disrupted a bunch of peoples' lives, sent a dozen people to the hospital, tied up emergency services, and got me disqualified from the first tournament I've managed to enter in a year. You deserve to have every square inch of your ass kicked, and lucky for you, you've got a bunch of highly motivated superheroes here to help. You know there aren't even any secrets here to protect." 

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Cannonade slowly started to realize he'd been looking for the obvious. In fact, he'd been looking so intently that it had taken a few seconds to notice that Argonaut and Miracle Girl had taken off. It was just him in the museum, trying his hardest to find a trap door or service hatch that might lead to the culprit - or at least, to answers. But there was nothing. 

 

Here, at least. 

 

He slowly realized that Fort Meade was a large base, and that someone who'd managed to pilot multiple robots at once likely had a good degree of signal strength. He took off at top speed, scanning the base as fast as he could, looking for signs of disturbances. As he did it, he managed to - with a grace that surprised him - manage his cell phone and give Argonaut a call.

 

"Nothing under the museum," he said. "Keeping up the hunt. How's Miss A doing?" 

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Casey checked Miss A's pulse and breathing, then pulled a flashlight out of her belt and shone it in the unconscious woman's eyes. "Pulse is steady...breathing is normal and her airway is unobstructed. Pupilary response...is good...no visible trauma." The super-strong Girl Scout shrugged as she got to her feet. "Other than being unconscious, she's fine; maybe it's a self-Induced trance or some kind of defense mechanism? I don't really know how her powers work."

 

When word arrived of a civilian in danger, Miracle Girl nodded in agreement with Argonaut. "Sure, I'd be happy to help, sir." Then she turned back to the former Omegadrone. "If her condition changes, let me know. Radio me at one hundred twenty-one point five megaHertz; I always monitor that frequency." She pointed at her ear. "I'll hear it even if I can't respond."

 

The blonde powerhouse then motioned for the red-faced man to lead the way.

Edited by Heritage
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  • 2 weeks later...

Argonaut  nodded to Miracle Girl while answering the call.  In truth she also didn't know much about Miss Americana's powers that would add to the comfort level in the room.  But, the woman was healthy.  That was some measure of good news.  Steve and her had had enough awkward meals inside of that German restaurant for her to want to add telling her fellow freed drone about the time his partner died suddenly to their excursions.

 

"Lying on the ground.  Miracle Girl says she's fine, but she is unconscious.  How well do you know her abilities, could this be some sort of out of body psychic thing?"  Not that she could figure out what use Astral Projection or any such ability would serve under present circumstances.  But, no villain had shown up to lay claim to putting Miss Americana in this state either.  The flashy robotic duplicates didn't exactly scream someone who shied from attention.  Circling back to this being a situation out of her own creation.

 

 

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Miracle Girl soon found herself in front of a boxy glass building - a mundane-looking place that turned out to be the not-so-mundane headquarters of the National Security Agency. Quickly ushered inside the lobby, she found herself confronted with her patient - a paraplegic man in an electric wheelchair, a man who had slumped forward, unconscious, in his seat. He did not look healthy, not with his face flushed red and drool coming from his mouth. "His caretaker completely abandoned him," said Homer Higgins, the NSA "supervisor" who had run to get Miracle Girl. "That cowardly bearded bastard vanished the minute the shooting started. And Mr. McGinnis was doing so well! He was here to give a talk on accessibility issues in cryptography..." 

 

-

Freebooter's cybernetic voice, which Cyberknife could definitely tell was coming from somewhere near the NSA building, turned petulant. 

 

alL 7h0s3 P30pLe weR3 mIli7@Ry-iNdUs7rI@li$t 7hug5 0R P@n0Pticon Dron3$ WH0 G0t wh@7 7h3y d35erV3d. M@y8e 5om3 7Im3 0N theIR 8@Ck will ge7 7H3M 7hiNkINg @80u7 @ 8e7t3r liN3 0f W0rK. @nD y0u've g0773N @ l07 m0R3 80rInG 5Inc3 you $7@R7ed G37tING $0Me, cY83RkniF3. 

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"I don't know," said Cannonade, managing to navigate the landscape of the base while focusing most of his attention on the call to Argonaut. "Last time we really crossed paths was that thing with D-Gray at the Horizon festival. She knows her way around machines and how to deal with robots - dealing with their programming, and dismantling them the hard way." He was trying to think of anything he'd seen from her that could explain this, but he kept coming up dry. God, if only he paid more attention to the hero broadsheets... "I'll be there soon. Just trying to keep my eyes peeled in case whoever put together our animatronic assholes has a second round."

 

He kept the line open, doing a second pass on the base. Jogging around jeeps, running around barracks, and peering into armories. He hoped he at least had clearance to look at half this stuff and wouldn't need a long talk with men in suits later...

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"And you've gotten a lot more tiresome since you started hanging around on anarcho-libertarian message boards," Miss Americana shot back. "Makes me miss the days when you were putting cat memes all over CNN's homepage. That was actually pretty funny," she allowed. "Come on now, you know the gig is up. Tell me where the rest of the booby traps are and I'll put a good word in for you, maybe you'll get internet access again before you start cashing social security checks." It was hard to keep track of time in here, but she knew that she needed to be getting back to her body, before people started getting suspicious. 

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Casey quickly looked the man over; other than whatever put him in the wheelchair, she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. "This is so weird," she said as she checked his vitals. "Whatever it is, his condition is similar; does he have a history of seizures? I'm sorry, how would you know." She looked around helplessly, frustrated by the limits of her first aid training.

 

Was there some sort of psychic attack taking place? Or some kind of nerve agent? Maybe the robots were just a noisy distraction from the real threat, whatever it was.

 

"This man needs a real doctor; whatever is affecting him is beyond my meager abilities. I'm going to check in with the others, and see if they have any other ideas."

 

She flew back to Argonaut, shaking her head as she gently landed beside Miss A. "The other victim was the same, other than already being in a wheelchair; healthy vitals but unconscious and unresponsive. Do you think they're related?"

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Cannonade hated this feeling. He was strong, tough, and fast, but he wasn't exactly the world's greatest detective. Nor did he have the ability to read minds, see through walls, or pick up on WiFi networks using only his frontal lobe. Which meant, when in an area where barging in to check things out in the physical world would result in you possibly getting sent to an undisclosed location, he was relatively tripped up. 

 

But that didn't mean he couldn't help. The NSA building was still being evacuated, and he had no idea if there were any sort of additional plans the person who sent the robot copies might have up his - or her - sleeve. He walked over to one of the guards overseeing the evacuation. "Anything I can do to help?" he asked. "Trying to make sure everything's covered for if this asshole decides to swing again."  

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"I don't know."  Argonaut admitted.  "Let's move them both."  Argonaut figured if they positioned the two unconscious people someplace safe.  They could at least resume the investigation.  Whatever plot was at work wasn't just going to solve itself while they stood around waiting.  Their only apparent lead to whatever happened to Miss Americana was somewhere underground.

 

AEGIS perchance for on the job training rather than a formal academy also meant, the freedrone was far more comfortable being the big guns in a scene than pulling out a magnifying glass and examining all the evidence on display.  "How fast can you dig?"  Argonaut asked Miracle Girl while crouching down to pick up the CEO of Archetech.  Taking a moment to consider what qualified as somewhere safe to leave her.  Have to avoid the cameras that were here to get footage on the fakes.

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The guard had a short, dapper beard and a serious expression as he looked at Cannonade. "McGinnis is the one who needs evac," he said carefully, "he's the poor fellow in the wheelchair with the busted spine. We're getting the others out all right through the fort proper, but Army doesn't have the facilities for dealing with something like this." He led Cannonade towards where the others were arriving, NSA headquarters being free enough from outside cameras (and with access to their own transportation) that it made a good place for a rendezvous. 

 

Placed next to each other outside NSA headquarters, McGinnis and Miss Americana did indeed look alike - perhaps too alike. Both Argonaut and Miracle Girl could 'hear' something coming from the man and the woman, a faint quantity of almost identical radio static. It was especially powerful coming from the former, but both were, or recently had been, sources of significant radio waves. 

 

"We'll get these two to the choppers," the guard offered the heroes, as he approached with an Army medevac team - the choppers having landed right on the NSA's very lawn for the civilian pullout. "You concentrate on the heroing, eh?" 

 

"Please. I'm not gonna spend a day in jail. I've gotta a whole league of friends these days." Freebooter's voice was getting 'louder' as Cyberknife followed Miss A's body towards the NSA, and it sounded less playful. "You know, the funny thing is, they tried to offer me _money_ for this. Can you believe that? Like the Freebooter needs to be paid.

 

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"What, the Crime League?" Cyberknife scoffed. "Are you serious? Whatever happened to calling them 'jackbooted thugs waiting for the return of totalitarianism and dressing it up in tight costumes?' Every single one of them has a private little dream of being a dictator one day, and what do you think happens to the internet then, huh? Come on FB, you know this. You're better than this. What the hell are you even thinking, getting mixed up with nasty business like this?" She took a moment to check in on her body and winced. "Dammit, they're about to medevac both of us. You gonna come along quietly or not?" 

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"I'm gronking out, Cyberknife." The words were calm and surprisingly matter-of-fact, given that Gina knew what they meant. "The ALS is gonna put me in a flesh box before I'm thirty - and in the ground before I'm forty, and that's if I'm lucky! The big jobs lately haven't been working out now that the whitehats are teaming up - but I'm running out of time. I've got the final version of the Freebooter planned - I just need the Crime League's money to build it." A sad-faced emoji actually hovered in the air in front of Cyberknife, and sardonic laughter came with it. "Listen to me sob story, me heartie, har-har -har! I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to know that whatever you hear me doing - I'm still me." 

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"Don't talk like that, FB," Cyberknife insisted sharply, waving away the emoji with an impatient hand. "It doesn't have to be that way. You know you don't want to be in their pocket for anything. If they give you money, they're going to expect to control you. You'll wind up in the ground a hell of a lot earlier than forty, and with nothing to show for it." She moved towards him, nothing so definite as steps, not where they were, but a drawing closer. "I'm sure you've read at least some of the articles about the work Miss Americana's been doing at Archetech. Uploading consciousness. Freeing minds from broken bodies, permanently. We've already done a human test, and she's been fine for three years now. It's not fantasy or pie in the sky, it's going to happen. And a terminally ill technopath is a candidate I could make a case for, but not if you're determined to go out in a blaze of glory." 

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Cannonade nodded to the guard... and as he did, he realized a familial twinkle in the man's eyes. He tried to play it casual, trying not to look like he'd recognized him - but he did. Magpie. Legendary thief, thorn in the side of many veteran heroes, burglar who'd gotten into the most secure places on Earth without tripping a single wire. And where was a more secure place on Earth than NSA headquarters?

 

Gotta thank Midnight for those briefings. 

 

"Thanks," he said. "I'll get on that." He headed over to Argonaut and Miracle Girl, taking his time to discreetly text Argonaut. 

 

"GUARD IS MAGPIE. OTHERS MAY BE ON PREMISES. NOT ASSAULT. HEIST." 

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The blonde heroine frowned and scratched her head. "How fast can I dig?" She looked down at her hands; stronger, slender fingers with some light callouses from years of sports and volunteer work, nails kept rather short to allow for better grip. She shrugged as she reached down and gently picked up the wheelchair-bound man. "Uh, I'm not really sure; do you mean with a shovel or my bare hands? I guess I'd be up for either; why do you ask?"

 

The radio signals were puzzling; were both Miss A and the handicapped man actually broadcasting? As she walked, she peered down at the crumpled figure In her arms and frowned; If that was the case, it meant the man had powers of some kind, too, which meant-

 

Miracle Girl suddenly looked up at the medivac team. "I think this man might have something to do with the 'attack'; we need to put him in a secure location until we know exactly how his powers work."

Edited by Heritage
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"I asked in case we need to brute force our entrance to the earlier heat source...Hold on to that thought."  Argonaut told Miracle Girl upon reading the message.  "Cannonade says the guard he's speaking to is Magpie and that this is some sort of theft."  Argonaut pondered the information on the table for the moment. 

 

Finally she sent a radio communication to Miss Americana.  Unsure what the static meant.  Gambling that it indicated that she could possibly get a message out to the catatonic heroine.  "You're being transferred to emergency care unless you indicate you are okay.  We're going on to stop this theft."

 

Argonaut looked up at Miracle Girl. Unsure of what she expected the man was going to do.  If he was in cahoots with Magpie there was the possibility he could walk without his wheelchair.  But, he could just as easily be another victim of the same circumstance Miss Americana found herself in.

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