2014.08.07 - Golden Eye Club

Category:Log
It's late Thursday afternoon, the sun closing in on the far west of the Suicide Slums, casting it's golden light in an almost low angle onto the run down scenery. Almost at the waterfront an old factory complex had been razed, leaving an area of flat space, only disturbed by the rusty gantry crane, that once used to transport the heavy buckets of molten iron, but now was stuck in one place, still holding up an upside down oxygen furnace. The closest hiding place to here was about 200 meters away, making this a perfect meeting space shadow business with the crane providing a good look out over the whole abandoned complex. And indeed, businessmen came here this afternoon, a small convoy of three black Nissan Quashkai SUVs pulling over the rubble in a cloud to stop on the north of the landmark. A single man in a black suit exited the last car, the face showing a Chinese heritage, and climbed up the ladder of the structure, carrying a small suitcase with him. Once up there, he opened it and put together the AR15 with its scope with a few moves, then the area fell silent again.
It was not until half an hour had passed, till another movement disturbed the edge of the derelict steelwork, but this time it was a pair of dull grey Hummers escorting a white Terradyne Gurkha with its thick green glass on the front and the tiny lookouts of the boxy rear compartment. The guard on the crane was on the lookout, and as they came, he called someone with his headset, nodding, letting the armored other cars advance and pull to a stop on the south of the crane
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Meanwhile a female had hidden in the upside down steel-transport container hanging from the crane, one leg on each of the converging sides and peering down through the one and a half yards wide hole, in the hands a compound bow with four arrows in the fast-quiver and another boxy quiver full with ten other hunting arrows strapped to her back. No fancy trick arrows, just plain, sharp hunting equipment with carbon fiber shafts and rubber fins in dark green.
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To be clear, Nate generally has no interest in the drug trade business, or most local crime. MGH, however, it is not just a recreational drug. Mutant blood is harvested to make it, and usually the street lab thugs won't acquire it legally. That means mutants get kidnapped or killed for it, and the police is rarely quick at investigating missing or murdered mutants.
And so the young telepath has found some time to telepathically track down from the street pushers selling pills to the gangsters that distribute to the pushers, to the 'businessmen' that buy it from the labs. This means now and here.
A few weeks ago, he would have come down on them from the sky and like the wrath of god. With his telekinesis mostly gone, he arrives walking, and masking his presence with a telepathic illusion. He is also psi-scanning for out-of-sight guards, which is how he spots Robyn. What the hell is she trying to do?
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The Chinese man on the top of the crane does a good lookout, but he is not someone who can break the masquerade of an illusion in his mind. The best he can do is warn of cops like this, but those don't enter the slums on their own most times. As the cars all had come to a halt, the doors of the lead and rear cars pop open, the goons spreading to secure the area - guns pointed between both factions and to the outside, the armored vehicles providing a secured spot from anyone out of the circle. Eventually the Canadian armored car's back door opened and a man in the thirties jumped out, pointing to one of his UZI armed goons to get the crate with his goods out of the car. A short time later on the opposite side, a huge bodyguard opened the door, shielding it while he helped an elderly man out, then taking a black suitcase and following him to the center. The head of the Wong-Triad and the 'scientist' exchanged a brief greeting, then seemed to discuss the weather, from all what was understandable in their Chinese gibberish.
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Robyn was on neither of the groups’ side. No, she didn't want the MGH on the street, and she did have an interest in the suitcase with the money. Someone had to put that money to a good use, like paying her bills and those of the Gotham Mercy Hospital and a few other free clinics. But for now... she waited, the left hand pressing on the tense upper leg muscle to prevent a cramp in it. Now was not yet the time to strike...
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Nate is most interested in the lab guy. But he doesn't dare to do more than scan surface thoughts right now, because he needs to remain 'invisible'. Apparently there is a crazy woman with a bow (and this one is blonde) that wants to steal the cash from 10 heavily armed thugs. And well, that is mostly okay for him.
He only wants the 'science' guy alive to find the 'lab', the rest don't matter much. He was going to try to land them in jail, but that wasn't very important. In fact, he will wait for the woman to start shooting; it will be a good distraction.
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The time passes, Robyn eying the formalities of the trade under her. Eventually she lifts her left hand of her leg, pulling an arrow from her quiver free to place it upon the string. The black carbon shimmered a tiny bit in the dim light inside the steel bell she was hiding in, the triple-bladed tip became a shadow in front of her taget. It was the goon that had carried the MGH container, who had shown the wares while the bodyguard fiddled with the lock to show the money of the Triad. Seconds passed in which she took a good aim, taking in a last breath and then did let go of the string...
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The hissing sound of the string getting let loose echoed through the steel forge, distorting the sound as the black, silver and green projectile closed in on the guy standing at the MGH crate. Confused the traders looked around, then at the man who suddenly screamed up, his hand with the UZI pinned to the box, right through the space between ulna and radius. The sound directly from above was something, that made it hard to pinpoint, the ears of humen not made to detect in the vertical but the horizontal plane. The Triad boss and the 'scientist' looked at each other, then they lifted the hand screaming "TRAITOR!" at each other. A second later... Hell breaks loose.
The AR-15 armed on top of the crane pulled to target at one of the Uzi-armed guys, the bang of his gun ripping through the silence but missing by a tiny bit. The remaining three UZIs opened fire on those with Glock 18, who in turn answered with 9mm bullets plowing through the sand and rubble while the Bodyguard tried to push the Triad-boss towards his car and the drug trafficker taking cover behind his injured goon.
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In retrospective, Nate should have known it would happen. The second a third party came in both groups of criminals would turn in each other. Paranoid, greedy bastards all of them.
When bullets start flying, he grabs the science guy and unceremoniously drags him behind the closest Hummer. When one of the bodyguards tries to stop him, he punches the larger man in the throat and kicks his handgun away. "You stay here," he growls to the man, smashing his head against the vehicle's door for emphasis.
Then he starts hitting the thugs telepathically, starting with those closer to him, which one by one crumple to the ground screaming, raising their hands to their heads as if to try to stop them from exploding.
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The first goon Nate hit collapses to the floor, bleeding from his nose and ears for his throat was broken by the mutant's hand, but the Druglord just laughs on leaving an imprint on the steel of the car, the nose bleeding. The drivers of the his cars start to scream, trying to stop the pain in their head as they fall from the steering wheels, the one of the heavy armored car receiving a head butt from his co driver to silence him for a better aim. The assault rifle of him roared, ripping holes into the vest of the Triad Bosses vest, revealing the armor plates, beneath but forcing him to throw the case towards his car, so he could protect his boss and shoot back. A double scream tells that some bullets got lucky and indeed, the lookout was falling from his crane to crash into one of his colleagues.
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With the one side down to three SMGs and an Assault rifle while the other was facing 5 automatic Pistols towards the Drug Lord's cars, Robyn placed another arrow from her quiver on her string before she closed her legs, letting herself fall from her cover towards the ground. The three yards passed quickly, her feet closing in fast on towards the shoulders of one of the Pistol carriers. As she connected, he screamed up and fell to the back, his gun going the other way and ending in the ground. The archer however let the arrow loose, pinning another pistoliero's weapon hand to the car he had came from before she rolled sideward, taking cover from the assault rifle fire behind the drug crate to get a chance to place an arrow on her string, the guy who had wielded an SMG pinned to the crate screaming as he feared to get used as a meatshield.
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Nate is mildly surprised seeing the druglord laughing, but a brief glance to his mind reveals he is pretty much up to the gills in painkillers. Too bad. For him. He grabs his handgun and shots the man's knee. That will keep him still.
Then... the rest. Or he could wait for them to kill each other. Tempting. But the archer lady is also on ground level being suicidal, so Nate gotta do something to help. He peers out of cover and starts shooting telepathic blasts. So intense they are visible, but they hit through cover, hitting thugs hiding behind their vehicles and knocking them unconscious. Only when he targets the old Chinese man he fails to bring one down.
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The goons fall, left and right, the Bodyguard of the Chinese man hitting the ground like a mountain, sending up a cloud of dust. As dust settles, the only one still standing was indeed the old man, the guy with the automatic rifle in the car trying to tend the wound of an arrow in his shoulder. The Scientist still laughs, pressing his wounded leg tightly to prevent dying from loss of blood, while the Triad boss claps hands. "A fine show, a fine show... Take what you want, I go." he tells, turning to go towards his car. Arriving there, he sends a smile towards the mutant and the archer, the smile all but pleasant. "A good fighter knows when lost the battle is, this is for sure. Just the names I want, to know for rematch."
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Robyn snorts, placing an arrow on her string again, the bow halfway up between both sides, waiting for a response first.
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Nate has to admit those are pretty good mental defenses for a normal human, but he snorts at the old man request. "You deal with MGH and you will get the attention of the X-Men, old man." He keeps an eye on the scientist, but his telepathy reaches into the old man's mind, digging deeper, his left eye pulsing with light. "Not that it matters, since you are not going to remember much about this. But when you wake up you will have a lot to tell the cops," unless his mental discipline helps him avoid a psychic compulsion to talk about the Triad's drug operation.
Then Nate hits him again, this time deeper into his mind, and for a longer time, forcing him to sleep.
And then he is looking at Robyn, offering the young woman a crocked smile. "And you... seriously. Why a bow and not a sniper rifle or something more efficient. It is not as if those were high-tech trick arrows like Hawkeye uses."
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"I deal with what sells, and there was demand for it." The Chinese man tells, just as he is about to enter the car. A medallion around his neck glows up green, crackling as it throws Nate out of the man’s head and then falling to ashes "That was very expensive... but it tells me you are powerful indeed." he answers as he takes a seat. Striking the collapsed driver's neck, the man starts to awaken. The last heard of the Triad boss, is his farewell. "We will see again, Hood and Summer." Was he better informed than he had told?
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Robyn snorts, lowering the arrow again, her golden eye peering after the departing Triad-boss, then turning the head to Nate, both their golden and blue eyes meeting; just her golden one was useless. "I can handle it and can't throw fancy blue disks of whatever." Ripping the arrow she pinned through the arm of a goon into the MGH-box out of the plastic, she threw the unconscious man to the floor and snatched a lighter from her pocket while going to pick up the case with the money. "You got some gasoline with you?"
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What the hell. Magic talismans or something? Nate is tempted just to shot the old man with his borrowed handgun. But since he can find him anywhere, maybe it will be better to see where he goes to hide.
As the vehicle leaves, he smirks. "He confused me with Cable, funny that." He glances at the drug and Robyn. "The cops are going to be here in a few minutes, but if you want to burn that... no, I don't have gasoline in my pockets. Just use it from one of the vehicles. You wanted the drug money? I just want to know where their lab is." Which means digging into the mind of a giggling drug lord. Not fun.
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Robyn shrugs her shoulders, eying Nate again while she collapses the bow, slipping it to next to her quiver. "No idea who that should be, but I did not call the cops. Did you?" she asks, flipping the Zippo shut. "Any way, I better get my ass away here - and the gift of the china-man to the east end free clinic."
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Nate nods, "I did call them, short of." Then he narrows his eyes, "and you are the bow killer, aren't you? It would be better you leave quickly. I still have to 'talk' with Mr. Giggles here." He grabs the scientific drug dealer by the scruff of his neck, pushing him against the Hummer again, and begins digging through his memories.
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Robyn snorts again, giving him a peer before answered "I am not the Bow Killer, I am Robyn Locksley." Then she starts to rush for the cover in some hundred meters distance.
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Of course, Mr. Giggle knows where he hides the source for his MGH - a small flat in lower Gotham, where he harvests the blood of four junkie Mutant kids, exchanging Meth for it.