2013-01-24 Highway to Hell, part 2: Gotham

When it rains... Or snows, as the case may be. Domino had a chance to relax for a few days, then everything fell onto her shoulders at once. Just the other day she had been involved in a subway disaster. The bullet wounds barely had a chance to stop bleeding before she got her call at one in the morning, the window of opportunity is now upon her. The pieces are starting to take shape as they begin to fall into place. No sooner does the first call end that the second one is placed, clipping the earphone into place as she waits for the other end to answer.
"It's me. We're hot. Gotham docks, pier fourteen. Be there in forty. You know which ride to look for."
Ending the second call, she mutters "This is what happens when you drag your heels, Domino." She's gotta hit the road, and soon. Her car is still sitting in the Gotham impound lot. The merc jumps into her 'borrowed' SUV and kicks the engine over, quickly pulling out toward the nearest highway. It's time to get her damned car back.
Forty minutes to Gotham City? No small problem for Shift. Armed with his Harley sportster and the good fortune of having been sent to New York City on an errand for the X-Men, he's already had the chance to lay his traps and spread his influence into the criminal underworld when the call is received. Thirty minutes later, almost to the letter, the masked and helmeted mutant pseudo-merc is screaming into the city upon a cloud of fumes and the burning hotseat of a hot-rod crotch rocket.
This was a good lesson to learn, courtesy of his patch-eyed accomplice. Had she properly stowed the Audi in the first place, they wouldn't be dealing with this obnoxious stage of the operation. As such, he stows the motorcycle in a long-term parking garage, and stuffs the ticket in his riding satchel. Following a ten-minute train ride, he casing out the impound lot, concealed in the shadows by the gunmetal gray of his shift suit and the black leathers of his riding gear.
A single scope is held against his eye while he scans the lot for their targeted quarry, while the other fixes an earpiece to his own and dials up Domino's cell phone again. Affixed with a scrambler, his phone remains un-traceable, at least by the local law enforcement, as the call is made. The smell of stagnant water rolls off the half-frozen river, and he's certainly thankful for the winter time, for it prevents the possibility that his nostrils might be accosted by the stench of rotting fish.
"What took you so long?" jokes the Ghanaian in a hushed murmur once the call is connected. "East corridah, haven't found her yet."
Why is he calling her -now?- A quick glance at the watch pinned beneath Dom's left wrist gives her the answer she's looking for. The call goes through, her excuse short and simple. "Coffee. Hold tight." The call gets disconnected as she pulls the SUV out onto the docks.
There's a subtle way of doing things, and there's the brute force method to doing things. She's got a heavy vehicle that isn't registered to her. The docks aren't well barricaded against collisions. There's a throaty rumble of an eight cylinder engine winding up, the boxy vehicle bouncing over speedbumps and effortlessly tearing through a chain-link fence as it continues to pick up speed, heading straight for the front doors to that enclosed dock...
Crash!
Tires howl in protest as the heavy vehicle slides across oil-stained concrete, rocking to a sudden halt all of ten feet away from the Audi in question. Not a drop of coffee spilled, at that. "The universe provides," Domino says to an empty interior with a mildly wicked smirk. Still in possession of the Audi's keys, she hits the trunk release on the FOB then kills the SUV, scrambling out to swap gear from one vehicle to another.
And promptly sucking a sharp breath through her teeth as weight falls upon her left leg. "..Right. Forgot about that." Time, two minutes and counting.
When the SUV comes into view, Shift lowers the scope and stuffs it into his satchel, before bursting from his shadowy hiding place and running full tilt toward the chain link, barbed wire fence opposite Domino's entry point. He lobs the satchel into the air, sending it soaring over the fence, before leaping in what might seem to be a stupid move that would only cause him to smack into that chain-link barricade.
Poof!
Black leather pants and a black leather riding jacket collide with the fence, but a cloud of smoke passes right through it.
Poof!
Shift reforms, all in one piece, and his cellular phone is intact. Seems he's had even more time to hone his talents, having caused the phone and earpiece to pass through the spaces in the fence as he exerted his control over the devices held within his smoky-grasp. Looking up, he snatches the satchel from its fall and throws it over his shoulder, before ducking between cars on a maddened chase behind the speeding SUV.
Skidding along on the shrapnel-ridden floor, Shift comes up a bit behind Domino as she gets out her gear. "Nice move, Lady Luck," he quips while making a bee-line for the impounded Audi. The front two tires have been secured by GCPD wheel locks, but that's something Shift can handle. Kneeling down beside the first, he focuses upon his fist and causes it to begin hardening. Teeth peel back into a partial snarl as he musters from a reserve of anger, then with a single downward strike, the bar holding the wheel lock in place is shattered. Each side of the large, locking yellow device falls to the ground with a clanging sound, but there's no sense wasting time preventing it from happening - they've already caused enough ruckus already.
"Not another word," Domino growls while throwing two bags full of gear into the black sedan's trunk. Likewise, she lets the matter drop as you go about freeing up the car from its shackles. See, while she much prefers to do these kinds of jobs solo there are some benefits to be had in bringing along a little extra help.
The part that's burning in the back of her mind is what all you'll be walking away from this run with. Never involve people with personal business. -Never.- The 'Lady Luck' remark proves that any tidbits you get hold of, you're not going to let go of. How's that for building confidence?
Moments later the smaller ghost of a woman is dropping behind the wheel of the big, roomy, and curiously familiar feeling sedan, setting two sealed cups of fast food coffee into the cupholders before firing up the engine. "I'll be damned, there's almost a full tank. Almost makes up for those idiots impounding it." As soon as the wheels are all freed and both you and your gear find a way into the interior she's ready to make a mad dash out of Dodge. And Gotham City. And all of New Jersey. Soon the entire east coast will be nothing but a hazy outline in the Audi's mirrors.
Another smashing sound comes when Shift makes his way around the front of the car, followed by two familiar clank's of steel against concrete. Moments later, he's hopping into shotgun and unpacking his riding satchel, quickly taking stock of the materials inside to make sure its all in one piece.
"Lighten up a littah, Dom," remarks Shift. "Your secret's safe with me."
No sooner has the car found its way out of the impound lot, however, do the sirens flare up. Two GCPD police cruisers are tearing toward the hole ripped in the chain link fence by Domino's former ride, while another two are ripping through the docks on an intercept course.
Almost instinctively, Kwabena tears the mask over his face, concealing all but his mouth and making the final, enigmatic transformation into his codename'd alter ego. "Well, we could have seen dis coming," he murmurs, before reaching into the riding satchel and producing, of all things, the same pistol you'd given him. Apparently, when he'd made his escape from Latveria with prisoners in tow, he'd somehow come across that same pistol.
Stranger things have happened.
After checking the clip and chambering a round, he presses a finger against the power window controls and lets a burst of cold air into the car.
"It's cold, I'm tired, and I need caffeine," Domino snaps back while working the sedan's controls with the swift precision of a rally master. It isn't always luck that gives her an edge. Sometimes it's just a matter of good planning. Like tackling the freshly fallen snow upon the roads with all-wheel drive. Squad cars are still powered by the back wheels only. They want to give chase? Hah. Let them try.
The Audi takes the first turn in a sidelong drift, the tuned German engine humming merrily along as sprays of white powder fly out from behind its four wheels. It's a heavy car but it's as sure-footed as they come, that hum turning into a low rumble as the car rapidly picks up speed. "It's more than keeping a secret safe, there's a lot of things that no one else needs to know about." Topics of discussion shift as quickly as the gearbox, "I'm surprised they had anyone posted around here. It's a storage lot, not a department. Try to disable them, no need to gun down a couple of cops."
It's a good thing that the roads are virtually empty at this hour, though with the lack of traffic and all of the snow yet to be cleared they'll have no trouble tracking the pair of mutants wherever they go. Disabling the squad cars is in their best interest. "Glad I don't need to give you another pistol."
"It's cold, I'm tired, and I need caffeine," Domino snaps back while working the sedan's controls with the swift precision of a rally master. It isn't always luck that gives her an edge. Sometimes it's just a matter of good planning. Like tackling the freshly fallen snow upon the roads with all-wheel drive. Squad cars are still powered by the back wheels only. They want to give chase? Hah. Let them try.
The Audi takes the first turn in a sidelong drift, the tuned German engine humming merrily along as sprays of white powder fly out from behind its four wheels. It's a heavy car but it's as sure-footed as they come, that hum turning into a low rumble as the car rapidly picks up speed. "It's more than keeping a secret safe, there's a lot of things that no one else needs to know about." Topics of discussion shift as quickly as the gearbox, "I'm surprised they had anyone posted around here. It's a storage lot, not a department. Try to disable them, no need to gun down a couple of cops."
It's a good thing that the roads are virtually empty at this hour, though with the lack of traffic and all of the snow yet to be cleared they'll have no trouble tracking the pair of mutants wherever they go. Disabling the squad cars is in their best interest. "Glad I don't need to give you another pistol."
"Let's get rid of dese cops before da -coffee- gets cold too." Shift moves in anticipation of every motion the Audi makes, so as to keep his aim steady as he levels the pistol upon the open window, watching as the pursuing police cruisers sway in and out of his line of sight. "Probably a lot of mob cars in dere," he answers. "Bet we aren't de first idiots to break in."
His last word is cut off abruptly when he finds a good opportunity. Squinting one eye, he adjusts his aim and unloads three bullets from the silenced pistol. Why is the silencer on? Well, let's just say they need to do whatever they can to avoid attracting attention, and the lack of a loud -crack- might mean that the police officer driving the car isn't completely taken by surprise by the tiny flash of light that manges to escape from the silencer.
The first GCPD car goes screeching off to the side as its front passenger tire is blown out, causing it to become t-boned by the car next to it.
"Two birds, one stone," quips Shift. "Your luck bleeds, doesn't it?" He looks back toward you immediately after saying that, leveling a hand your way. "Nevahmind. Don't answah dat. I don't need to know."
He sounded serious, of course, but when his face is turned back away from you, a coy little smirk has formed on the edge of his mouth. Oh, he's trying not to have -too- much fun here, but inevitably he's bound to fail.
The thought of a rally race is almost starting to make sense to Domino, now. Rather than going by distance though, she can make the calls based on time. "Eight seconds to straight, five seconds to fire." ..Hold that thought. She glances in the rearview mirror to watch a pair of squad cars becoming one then slide off of the road.
Your question is almost given a proper answer before you tell her not to bother, instead concentrating on throwing the sedan around another turn. "May your aim stay as true for the rest of this week." With the cops taken care of she's free to make a beeline for the freeway entrance. They're making good time.
With the speedometer comfortably climbing through triple-digit figures, Dom plucks her cup of coffee from the holder and holds it up toward you. It's pushing two in the morning. They've got a trunk full of illegal ordnance, damn comfortable seats, hundreds of hours worth of music, and coffee that runs as black as the soul. "Cheers."
Well, it was as solid a move as any, and it managed to keep the other two cop cars from giving chase. It was now only a matter of time to determine whether the GCPD would be able to fire off an All-Points Bulletin in time to cause them any problems on their escape from Gotham.
"We'll see," answers Shift. "Caffeine tends to make my fingah's twitch." Lowering the weapon, he clears the chamber and resets the safety, before unscrewing the silencer and replacing it in his riding satchel. Next, he brings out a GPS unit, which he promptly leans over and sets up against the dashboard. While plugging it in, he remarks, "Swear to God, I hope dat Batman creep doesn't show up. Dat would make dis trip go bad very quickly."
As the GPS unit comes to life, the next thing out of Shift's bag is a small memory stick, which he plugs into the radio's USB input without further delay. A quick scroll through the menu brings up the first of his playlists, cueing up a song titled 'Growing Up in the Gutter' by Yelawolf. It's a dirty, dub-laden rap track with dark lyrics to match the dark Gotham night, and a bass line set to shake the very core of the German machine should they crank it loud enough.
Now settling back for the ride inland, Shift seems to visibly relax. He takes the cop of coffee in hand, clashes it lightly against yours, then lights a cigarette and lets the music set his mood for what comes next.
(The story continues in Highway to Hell, part 3: Cincinnati.)
(IC News article: High-Speed Chase (Gotham Gazette))
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