"Gor--"
Gray started to speak but caught himself. They had a very simple rule when it came to working together: don't pry, don't push. Gordon obviously wanted nothing to do with the Atlanteans, and Grayson knew that it was probably best for his safety. This was out of Weez's league. He had a point. Maybe it was time that Gray call his other friends.
"Sorry Gordon. I should've guessed it was out of your comfort zone. If you hear anything that sounds fishy, keep me updated."
He reaches for the door, pauses, and turns around.
"Gordy, I could put in a word for you, you know. You've got skills we could use, and with their kind of funding, you'd be like our own, uh, guardian angel. Think about it."
It was a good 30 block walk back to his apartment. Gotham, in all it's decayed glory, had a way of calming his nerves and re-centering him. That clarity is what he needed most at a time like this. What are the Atlanteans up to?
After a quick shower and shave, Grayson suits up.
Gray taps the screen to life and takes a deep breath.
", something's up. We've got Atlantean activity here in Gotham, and possibly near DC. Seems we've got a hundred or so trident-like weapons capable of high powered blasts being shipped from Bethesda to New York City, released by a Mr. Richmond Destine. This may be serious."
"If you'll excuse me, Summers, looks like I'm getting a debriefing here. I'm gonna absorb this, and finish taking a look around. Is there anything else I should know before we part ways?"
", something's up. We've got Atlantean activity here in Gotham, and possibly near DC. Seems we've got a hundred or so trident-like weapons capable of high powered blasts being shipped from Bethesda to New York City, released by a Mr. Richmond Destine. This may be serious."
Slade winces as Haunt practically yells his name into the receiver.
"You know, these microphones are really good. You can talk normally."
He shakes his head and lets Haunt continue. Once he's finished:
"Are you sure it's Atlanteans and not someone stealing their tech? Though either way, it's worth looking into."
"I've got some people to gather up, but I'll see what I can learn from here and on the jet while I get them together, and then we'll meet you in Gotham. Any particular place?"
While he waits for Haunt's reply, he closes his eyes and searches his memory again.
1.) What does Slade know about the Atlanteans (culture, level of technology, current leader[s], diplomatic relations)?
2.) What does Slade know about Richmond Destine?
1a & 2a.) (I'm going to look up the files in a moment) What does SHIP and PILOT know about these subjects?
Grayson smirks beneath his mask, "Anything to cause you even the tiniest bit of discomfort, Slade."
To say Slade Masterson is tough would be an understatement. The man's been around for way too long, doesn't seem to have aged one bit since coming into the public eye, and he just gave Grayson the creeps. It was something in the way he moved, it gave him an eerie, familiar, crawly feeling. As much as he liked to mess with the guy, Grayson knew deep down that if it came down to it, Slade would find a way to kill him.
"Gather? Are we back on? Whatever, just get to Gotham and I'll find you."
Slade snorts.
"One of these days you're going to irritate someone without my signature saintly patience and all around friendly demeanor."
"Yeah, yeah old man." He might've made him uneasy.
So blessed to have such a sweetheart like yourself in my life" but taking the piss out of him felt so right.
"Take your time prancing around. I'll see who I can muster on this side. Later, Slade."
He ends the call and immediately dials Blue Spider.
"Blue, we've got a potential situation"
"Whoa, need a hand there, pal? Seems everyone's finding some trouble. We've got potential Atlanteans activity. Slade's meeting us at some point. But, uh, you seem busy."
Slade tries to contact Fusion again.
"Fusion, it's Slade. We need to get to work. Haunt just contacted me with something about Atlanteans selling weapons in Gotham, and we haven't even gathered the team yet. Are you ready to fly? I'm on my way to the hangar now."
Slade sets off at a brisk walking speed (covering ground about the same way a normal person would in a fast jog).
Fusion excuses herself from Summers and picks up the comm, moving to somewhere private. "I read you, Blademaster. I'm just finishing looking her over, but I'll put in a flight plan immediately. You can debrief me when you get here."
While Slade is walking briskly to the hangar, his comm rings. On the other line is Shayera Kinney, aka Wingblade, calling for the first time.
Yeah, it's me. I had a... incident, you could call it. Three men, but augmented somehow. Big and strong. One had a strange weapon.
Fusion: "I should be ther ein a few minutes, unless something comes up."
Wingblade: Slade slows down a bit.
"Are they still alive? And what did the weapon look like?"
No. Weird, three-pronged, and sharp. It didn't do them any good. Shayera's voice is calm, recounting the recent grisly business in a matter-of-fact way.
"Sounds like it might be one of those weapons Haunt mentioned."
"I'mcoming to pick you up, along with a number of other people. I'll call in the SHIP clean-up crew for your little incident. Just give me the location of the bodies." Slade doesn't seem particularly fazed by the fact that three people are dead, beyond the fact that it will be somewhat inconvenient to cover it up.
There's a short pause as a bit of movement is picked up by the phone.
Shayera's voice comes back on. 2300-Block of West Pauling, in an alley across from Slim's Pool Hall. You'll find them in the dumpster.
Fine. I need a new backpack, anyway. Trade you the weapon for one?
Slade blinks.
"Sure. As long as you don't mind SHIP standard issue black. Though we might have some PILOT blue ones lying around."
Shayera's shrug is nearly audible. The connection ends, though the GPS feature is still active. It shows her moving swiftly away from the Bowery district to the old Slate district, where urban renewal has fallen short.
|
Catching up post
The Haunt
Thanks for understanding, Gray. Before you go. he hits a few keystrokes, plugs in a zip drive, and copies over some folders. This is what I've got on Brinedart and his people. Mostly surveillance your new bosses won't have unless they've hacked me.
----------------
Fusion
Summers nods. I'll be careful. You take care, too. Stuff they got you doing now... well normals weren't the only ones killed in the invasion.
------------------
Blue Spider
The Black Goblin flies out of Fisk's tower, moving away from the building at high speeds, weaving between buildings a she goes.
Fisk stands at the window, glaring st him, a frown on his face.
--------------------------
Wingblade
Kristina seems relieved when you show. Thought you got yourself back in your own special brand of trouble, girlfriend. noticing your missing pack uh, looks like I thought right, huh? a worried tone enters her voice.
--------------
Fusion and Blademaster
The prep for the jet is relatively quick, and you are ready for wheels up in less than ten minutes.
The other relatively local member of your group is Quicky and he could be at base in less time than it takes to prep the jet.
Quicky continues to sleep the sleep of the (sorta) just.
Shayera forces a smile. I tried to make it quick. But yeah, I guess it was a title bit of trouble. Don't worry about me. I'm not in any danger.
She accepts this evening's delight from the row of food trucks. This time she receives a plate of deep fried balls of ground chickpeas drizzled with a sauce.
She eats while Kristina watches her experience the falafel for the first time. After a few bites, Shayera says, Thanks for this. It's an interesting flavor. She closes her eyes for a moment. [B]That truck has a couple cats, so no rats like the last one. You can hardly taste the cat hair.
Shayera keeps eating, like she did with the last one that sold the burritos. When she finishes her meal, she wads up the wrapper and tosses it in an overloaded bin. Not sure when we can do this again. I need to go see some people about getting a new backpack.
While they're prepping the jet, Slade buzzes Quicky.
"Hey, Quicky, you awake?"
Hearing that strange communicator that PILOT gave him after the HIVE invasion, manages to drag himself out of a dream of white beaches and well tanned other people. He grabs the device and activates it.
"Huh? Um, awake, Right, yeah awake now. What do you need, uh, Blademaster? You know it's pretty late right now right? "
"It's 10 in the morning, Quicky."
"Something's come up. How soon can you get to PILOT HQ? I can brief you when you get here."
"Atlanteans, here, in Manhattan. Strange Squid-Men assembling trident-like weapons probably to blast us all away. Slade's on his way, so if you've got any engagements this morning, squash 'em. Wanna meet me at my place?"
"What!?! 10!?! Jeez, later night than I thought. I'll be there stat. "
He will get up, bring on his metal skin, then grab some quick food for on the way (protein bars and such). He can always get a shower later.
If he can avoid populated areas on the way there, he will take it up to full speed since it appears to be a rush.
Summers nods. I'll be careful. You take care, too. Stuff they got you doing now... well normals weren't the only ones killed in the invasion.
"I hear you. I've already died once and I don't plan on it happening again for awhile." She smiles and waves goodbye t Summers.
I should be ther ein a few minutes, unless something comes up."
The prep for the jet is relatively quick, and you are ready for wheels up in less than ten minutes.
The other relatively local member of your group is Quicky and he could be at base in less time than it takes to prep the jet.
"Copy that. My mission file says we have one other local team member, codename Quicky? Are we waiting for him?"
"Well, 'waiting' might be too strong a word. There's a chance he'll get there before I do. But yeah, we're going to take Quicky with us."
Fusion chuckles. "Good point. Maybe I should go keep an eye out for him." Fusion flies out of the cockpit and looks for the speedster.
Haunt and Blue meet up at their designated spot. They call New York City home, but it seems they come from two completely different worlds. Grayson enjoyed Peter's company and his willingness to lighten any situation up with a quick quip and a quicker jab, but his joking nature had a way of rubbing Gray the wrong way at times.
He shows up at their meeting spot in his civilian clothes.
"Blue Spider, you practically sleep in those, huh? Slade & Company are gonna be meeting us in town soon. I was passed off some Intel that I haven't checked out yet. How about we go somewhere public for a cup of coffee and we can read up on these files?" He holds up the jump drive.
Once Quicky is out the door, he decides that they did say 'urgent' so he cuts loose. Rapidly getting up to max speed of over 2000 MPH, he covers the distance door to door in a bit over a minute.
Hmm, hope I didn't break too much with those sonic booms. Well they can send the bills to PILOT, it's their fault.
Showing up at the guard station, ID in hand "Quicky here, Blademaster called. " noting that the guards are have their hands over their ears because of the loud crack from the incoming boom, he repeads "Uh, yeah sorry about the noise guys, Blademaster told me to hurry. Quicky here, I assume they warned you. "
Shayera glides effortlessly in the cool morning air. The sun reflects off her Nth metal wings in a dazzling display. She had discarded the ratty blanket when she took flight, but still clutched the bundle that contains the strange weapon that Slade had been interested in.
She set a leisurely pace, drifting on the winds and only flapping a few times here or there when the currents weren't enough to keep her airborne. The glittering spires of Metro rise to greet her arrival, though she banks away from the main business districts in favor of the broad area of squat government compounds that stretch from downtown to the inter coastal waterway.
She was almost completely lost in the joys of flying when a series of muffled explosions in the distance catch her attention. With a number of powerful beats of her wings, she accelerates in the direction of the sound. Each successive peal points in the same direction as her own destination, which clues her in to the origin of the sound, and she relaxes. The final boom sounds just outside of the SHIP compound.
She is minutes behind the metal-clad speedster as she bypasses the gates entirely and aims toward the helipad. She ignores the defensive cannons tracking her as she alights on the main building's roof, and looks around for familiar faces.
Fusion hears a boom or two in the disatance, and figures either there's an unscheduled takeoff out on the runway or Quicky's arrived. She pages him on the comm.
"Quicky, this is Fusion. Would you please report to hangar 2 at your earliest convenience?"
After being processed by the guards (ID checked, retinal scan, etc.) he will hoof it to the waiting jet "Yep, here now. They just needed to check me in. " The check in took time, getting there didn't.
He sees one jet ready for take off and heads for that, skipping the boarding stairs, he simply jumps up through the door and alights inside.
"Ok, one speedster reporting for whatever it is I'm reporting for. "
The high-pitched whine of a jet engine catches her attention and Shayera is aloft again. The short runway strip points her in the direction of the hangar. She dives along the side of the main building, then pulls up to skim along the complex grounds. A couple wide banks puts her aiming straight at the yawning opening of the hangar. She shoots into the cavernous structure then opens her wings wide to slow her approach. She still drops to the floor with a jarring impact that would break bones, but she stands unharmed.
Shayera's wings fold loosely behind her, twitching like living things despite their metallic composition. With the exception of the wings, she looks every bit like a disheveled girl who had been living on the streets. Her clothes are a dirty mix of cast offs and the remnants of her old Project H issued fatigues. Her boots, too, are steel-toed military issue, each with a large cut at the toe. She is holding a bundle under one arm.
Slade arrives a few moments after Quicky does, and scowls at him.
"How much damage did you cause this time?"
"Damage? Me? Well you said urgent, so it's not like I stopped to check, but I can imagine there might be a few broken windows along my path. " he replies a touch sheepishly.
"Hey, at least I avoided residential areas this time. The golf courses might need a bit of sod though now that you mention it..."
"But you did have something you needed me for right?"
"Yeah, but I never said it was urgent, I just asked how fast you could get here." Slade rub his temples a little bit.
"Doesn't matter. SHIP will fix it."
"Fusion, you'll want to hear this too."
"Haunt called me earlier and said there was Atlantean activity in Gotham. Someone was loading crates of weapons, tridents that shoot powerful blasts of some kind. Wingblade said she ran into someone with a similar weapon who tried to kill her with it, so some are already on the streets."
"So we're going to gather the rest of the team and investigate."
"Ok, sounds good. I'll go get a seat. Any provisions on board? I kinda skipped breakfast. "
Hearing her code name mentioned on the other side of the hangar, Shayera walks in that direction. She unwraps the weapon she had scavenged from the attackers and holds it up as she approaches.
"Actually, I killed the man before he got a chance to use it. So I haven't seen what it does. The other one shot me with a regular gun."