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Woodsman moved with the slow, methodical gestures of someone with experience and training both in the arts of standing still and staying silent. He pulled back the string of his bow by hand rather than use the noisy lever, muscles in his right arm straining and silently gritting his teeth, then set the string cocked for loading. Pointing to the drywall with one hand, he caught Kingsnake's attention with the other, indicating the crossbow bolt he held. Riley had no idea Kingsnake couldn't see the writing on the arrow - but Kingsnake could smell the sharp, acrid scent of volatile chemicals wafting from the bolt. Explosive. Woodsman set the bolt into place in his bow, quietly, and waited. 

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As they crept down the stair Kingsnake would motion to woodsman in silence, indicating he'd located a back entrance and was going to cut of the villains route of escape.  Then as quickly as he'd appeared the vigilante was gone.  The drywall at the base of hte stair would not stand up to a solid kick no less one of Woodsman's bolts and would be little impediment once the young hero made his move.  He could hear the muffled speech through the think layer of pressed gypsum and plaster as he awaited the perfect moment.

 

In the waiting room the dull flicker of florescent lights seemed to be slowly sapping Nighthawks will to live though that at least was no more sinister than the myriad other similar waiting rooms the young heroine had found herself in since her parents death so many years ago.  The receptionists eyes pinched for a moment as she tapped in the number on Robins flyer and she glanced to the young woman and back to her screen several times, "Not long at all."  she said quietly as she finished whatever she needed to edit on her terminal.  The receptionist pursed her lips and nodded toward the elevator doors as they slid open, "The elevator will take you to our offices, simply follow the hall and a technician will be waiting for you."  she explained easily and nodded toward the open doors as she went back to her solitaire game.

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Robin nodded and stood up, moving on quiet feet down the hall. It seemed like just another patient until the girl paused at the elevator doors and then braced her arms against the door frame to block the doors from closing. There was the faint protest of mechanical whining as the door hit her hands and then stopped. Standing there, her back to the receptionist, Robin said in a voice that carried, "Ride's here." 

 

She turned her head then, her twists snaking over one shoulder as she glared at the receptionist and her confused expression. Robin's look was patently unfriendly as she said simply, "Wasn't talking to you."

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An instant later, Woodsman's bolt exploded against the wall next to the woman's head, a quick cloud of powerful sedatives erupting as the chemicals inside the fractured stick mixed and erupted outward. As the receptionist slumped, semi-conscious and drugged, to the ground, Woodsman himself erupted from the wall, the drywall easily breaking as the teen put his body weight behind a shoulder roll. He'd weakened it by quietly poking out a hole for his sniping, giving him a chance to look like a badass (or so he assumed) as he tucked and rolled and came up running into the elevator alongside Robin. "They're gonna be waiting for us," he commented with a smile, readying another arrow and aiming it at their feet. "So we got 'em where we want 'em."

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As he bolted past the receptionists recumbent form Woodsman could make out the silent alarm switch she hadn't quite reached before he'd subdued her.  Of course his noisy entrance or just people monitoring the office cameras might have raised hte alarm still.  The rush of the sudden eruption from the wall and sprint down the hall was in stark contrast to the slow ride down in the elevator, hard to guess the full distance without floor numbers to mark the passing but the trip was long enough to ensure they were far below most normal city infrastructure when the doors finally parted.

 

In the vestibule beyond stood two security guards idly chatting while a nervous man in a labcoat awaited robin armed with a clipboard of scant personal details.  Beyond the guards stood a secure door with a card reader attached, the casual welcome party indicated the alarm hadn't been raised but it seemed unlikely for that to last long as the lab coat pinwheeled his arms trying to scramble behind the security officers with a yelped, "Stop them!" as he tried to reach a nearby alarm panel.  When the doors finished opening the guards were just turning to look at what the researcher had reacted to, it seemed they were lucky and had managed to preserve the element of surprise thus far.

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Riley didn't speak - he was a hunter, really, and there was no point in talking to the things you planned to shoot. Instead he leveled his weapon and fired without hesitation. Woodsman shot the scientist through the heavy muscle of the forearm, the poisoned bolt making the man twitch and jerk as he collapsed to the floor, foaming at the mouth. The elevator was well-designed, giving Riley no cover from fire from the corridor - but he trusted in Robin as he ducked behind her at the sight of the armed guards. He might not have a lot of experience fighting armed opponents, but he knew perfectly well she could take a hit from a sidearm far better than he could. There'd be time to worry about his feelings on _that_ score later. "Kick their asses, Nighthawk," he snarled with real affection in his voice. 

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Like well a well orchestrated dance, Robin leaned to the side as her partner fired, dropping the most urgent target. Her lips curved into a cool hard smile. She was faster than any human had right to be as she charged down the hallway, providing Woodsman the cover of her leather clad shoulders. 

 

"Hey. Assholes." Nighthawk snarled as she landed on sneakered feet between the guards - as menacing as any teenager could manage. "Wanna dance?"

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The scientist went down with a muffled yelp as the bolt protruding from his arm pumped the sedative cocktail into his system his hand inches from the alarm trigger.  "Punk Kids!"  one guard yelled as Robin charged and the well trained security officers smoothly drew batons from their belts snapping them open and thumbing the triggers in tandem sending a wicked arc sparking at the tip of each.  Robins goading words hit home as they raised the shock batons in well telegraphed arcs to swing at the teen hero who evaded the blows with ease.  Only then did they seem to realize this wasn't some gangbanger looking for drugs or kids prank, "Call backup!"  the other shouted as he tried to square off with robin and hopefully buy his partner time to make the call.

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"Don't have time f'r this," growled Woodsman, reaching down and grabbing his hatchet where it hung at his hip. He leaped forward and threw at point-blank range, the closeness necessary to make sure he didn't chop off the sweating guard's limb. The one-handed throw didn't have the power to split skulls or crack bone - but he heard a satisfying thunk as the flat of the head struck the guard on the knee, the blow making the man howl and fall forward, right into Riley as he leaped up and headbutted the man in the nose with all his strength. That time, he did get a refreshing crack of bone, even as the brief pain of the impact briefly knocked him for a loop too. 

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