From the Gate to the Kitchen (part 2)

October 10, 2015:

Continued from Part 1: Agent Harper and Daredevil's prey ends up at their destination point.

8th Avenue, Hell's Kitchen

One of Taskmaster's hideouts


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The 'construction crew' in it's voyage once again begins to trek through the streets of NYC's Hell's Kitchen the day rapidly descending to a colder night. They are almost on time. Not as dumb as they first appeared the four vehicles actually go the scenic route, just in case.

Roy's phone vibrates again with another incoming message: "Pursue and observe. Suspected trafficking." The DEO is quick in their information retrieval. They should be as previously having been CIA, IO, Stormwatch and DEO they got the bones and salt for it.

Unfortunately for Matt Murdock he doesn't quite have the same resources as Roy he does however have excellent senses and can still hear the rather distinctive hammering from the damaged trucks engine. Maybe a rod is about to go out. A noise most people wouldn't be able to distinguish is easily tracked by the Man without Fear.

Elsewhere… A nice set up in an old gutted, forgotten and failed to be gentrified theater just off of 8th avenue. It apparently was still safe underneath paperwork and the Special Clinton District zoning rules. Safe enough to remain untouched and private while still in plain sight (ish).
"Welcome to the Taskmaster Institute v… aw geez I don't even know anymore. I got the worst luck in keeping these things running." The skull faced warrior speaks loudly towards the huntress for hire with him. The back alley door open a ramp laid out as they await the shipment that was supposed to be here over 30 minutes ago. Set equipment, costumes, actors and whatever else used to be loaded through this entryway. "Fortunately I got this place cheap. Only cost me someone elses finger. Nice, huh?"

Matt Murdock knows the sound of a phone vibrating. It may be set 'silent', but they usually vibrate against -something- and that creates a sound that can be picked up on as can the truck that's busted.

Not all costumed vigilantes wear their costumes under their clothes…sometimes they have to go home and change. The ones with super-speed certainly have that advantage.

Luckily, Hell's Kitchen isn't huge and Matt knows each crack in the sidewalk. He begins to walk off at a brisk pace and once he gets a small distance away, he flat-out runs to his apartment to change. It shouldn't be too hard to find that convoy again, right? Just follow the sound of the hammering engine…

Ravaher sits on top of a stack of pallets, booted feet are dangling over the edge and between her leather clad thighs a large weapon is resting, her hands clasped around the charger that is a rather large handle, her cheek pressed against the dark metal that shines black on silver under the lighting. An obviously massively modified weapon that she resting upon like it was a /partner/ or a retirees compensation for lacking between his own thighs, if it was not for the fact the one holding the weapon was very evidently female.

The scale maille running along the sides of her attire shone much alike that of her weapons metal, curvature and contours of a softer level contrasting the coating of vital protection against a kevlar reinforce leather.

White hair spills over shoulders from behind where braided and viking-esque mohawk still does not contain the mass of hair, even veiling over one milky white eye framed and half-masque'ing her face like a phantom of the Opera, the other a frigid blue as it settles upon Taskmaster.

"Can't argue when it is someone elses arm or leg that buys it. Just a finger huh?" Her head tilts slowly as she looks to the door once more.

Having backed off enough to pursue, Roy mutters as he leaves a message with Kori about picking up Lian from her play date. Having to track people -out- of the city mean, of course, following along quietly, in a fairly old car. The scenic route, though, meant having to tag the truck as he drove by and then stay out of visible range before following.

When the trucks finally stop, Roy locates a hiding spot and begins to make his way to the location…

"Creepy sometimes talkin' at you. Add a beard and an buck fifty." Taskmaster shudders and squints one eye towards the open doorway. Not exactly sure why they haven't called in and doubtful local law stopped them from here to where they were last. Money! The change of money and hands makes safe passage an actual thing. Cops around this part if you know who to speak to were easily bought. The merc knew people who knew people. Hell's Kitchen isn't his usual gig Brooklyn is usually his run but thats become a sketchy bet and he is rather pleased with his location here.
Just as he turns and is about to bitch some more the headlights of the deuce begin to roll up, "There she is!" Actual excitement comes out of the man and he tosses his arms in the air waving the drivers on back. "Mooks. I should just kill them and not pay them." Plenty of reasons not to do that, hes no Gotham crook. Those guys are psychos who don't understand business ethics. He hates Gotham come to think of it.

Roy maintains pursuit of the vehicles trailing them far enough back he'll keep on tail lights. Once or twice he might have lost them but it's clear where they're headed. The area around them surprisingly populated and even these hours activity on the streets is still pretty active. Some of the best prostitutes in New York can be found over here.

Matt's quick change puts him behind but even as the driver of the trucks come to a stop in the theatre's back alley they remain idle. That sound remains. They really do need to talk to someone about that.

Daredevil is able to follow from the rooftops which gives him a little more speed than having to follow traffic and New York streets. That truck is like a beacon. They really -should- get it fixed. At least, they should if they still want to be sneaky.

He gets to the roof of the theater and leans forward some to listen…something to give him an idea as to what these folks are really up to.

Ravager's placid countenance somewhere in there manages to make that smile at Taskmaster's remark look like a feral sneer. Did she appreciate it or did it piss her off? A bit of both when it comes to comparing her to her father.

"I'll eat this barrel before that hormone shift happens to me." Such a happy little camper, our Ravager. But as the truck pulls up and Taskmaster takes on the full frontal view she is rising upon the pallets, eyes narrowed, a tap to her earpiece and a point upward just before a grapple line shoots from her hand to loop and anchor into the scaffolding and sling her up into the ceiling.

«They were late. I got your back.» Muttered into the communication bud while she slinks through the rafters like a contorting acrobat and when she settles to see directly out to the alley and the truck as well as Taskmaster one leg loops around a beam while the other braces heel against a joint, the massive weapon lowered from her shoulder back to just in front of her while fingers slide over the kunai resting strapped around her thighs, a flash of a red scarf flitting from her opposing wrist. Some things of playing Lady Vic were just keepers, namely the Thuggee garotte modification.

Steering clear of the prostitutes aside from offering a grin, a wave, and a wink, Roy can't help but feel there's something -familiar- about this area. Like he'd been in places like this before. And whoever hung out in these places, well… the people Roy ran into in these areas had similar interests.

Ducking out of view as the trucks started to settle in place, Roy took a peek around a corner, before wincing at the sight of the man waving his hands. "Great. I should just put an arrow in his head, return the favor."

Nah. This could wait. Just call in DEO, with a quick brief as to who he saw, and his location. GPS. Unless, of course, he couldn't.

"Damn, jumpy much, Little Wilson? It's /all good/ I got this area safe. Paid off the locals, signal scrambler system that lets me monitor frequencies in and out, hidden in almost plain sight. It looks like I went legit. Which I haven't done since that gym. That gym man… turned in to nothing more than a Greek bathhouse with lots of guns." Rambling momentarily to himself he stops, "We're good." Bravado? Overconfidence? Laziness? The several beers and a shot he had? Who knows why Taskmaster is behaving this way. Or it could be he feels he's protected by the Authority connections which, a yes and a no. Not in private endeavors like this.
"Mikey, Rocko, Micky… " Taskmaster's voice changes going a little more stern as he says the last name, " And Steve. Always a fuckin' Steve. Y'all are late." None of them seem Ravager or Roy nor Daredevil.
"Yeah, sorry boss. Them spooks they wanted permits and shit." Rocko, the dark skinned man Mat and Roy spoke to earlier.
"Thats dumb. Probably cops or something wanting some extra fluff or their pocket. Y'all weren't followed right?" Taskmaster is still glaring at Steve or at least it might appear that way. The skull doesn't change expressions.
Steve just fidgets and starts to open the truck, shrunken under the mercs gaze. "It's all here."
"What Steve? I can't hear you. Speak up. It's like you got marbles in your mouth."
"Fuckin' Steve." Mikey barks (hes a heavyset redhead with a beanie on and lots of tattoos).
"Lemme lookit what we got." Taskmaster says almost gleefully as he shoves past them and slings open the truck door fully. "Hrm, what the hell is that an alien corpse? I don't want that. It stinks."

That stench is horrendous. A hand lifts to his nose even as Daredevil tries not to lose the contents of his stomach. Whatever that is, he's not sure it should be given to anyone…although he's also not entirely sure if what is being done is illegal. This is…he's going to need to observe more. Maybe get a little closer.

Ravager's milky eye begins to flicker a green as the night vision kicks in to clarify her surroundings. The men getting out are watched with mild feigned interest. Taskmaster has them, and they may outnumber but the threat meter for that mercenary is zero. Her father may not bbe respected much, but his judgement is when it comes to who he works with.

Whay /is/ given attention is the opening of the alley where any tailing the cargo would come in and that is where the movement of Roy peering around the corner catches he attention. Instead of alerting Taskmaster she is already moving forward, that large shoulder cannon flipped to rest along the length of her spine, above her head and to mid thigh. It's Ravager's Ferrari. Yep.

From the window above the main entry she unlatches the lock, looking down about 10 feet from where Roy is standing in his own watch. The strip and the small clusters of hookers none of her concern as she leans back, one hand still on the sill while the other reaches back…

A kick off and the pull of gripped hand fling her over the sill and out the window, though when she lands it is not but 2 feet from Roy and the butt of the gun hits the cement, her hand back upon the charge but the impact cocks it and the evident powering up of electricity as well and chambering of a round. Remaining in her crouch the weapon is aimed up at him, the butt of the weapon resting upon her thigh in her crouch.

Head rising to stare upon Roy's back (until he turns) he'll meet the one eye'd gazee of a smiling femme and one deep barrel having just the same appearance towards the back of his head (face).

Across the comm and to Roy. "Go on now. You already peeked." Though she has no knowledge of Daredevil, the flick of her gaze states she is looking for more.

Damn it. Of -course- the signal jammed. The dude didn't take too many chances like that, but Roy was rather hoping. All he could do was hope that DEO was sharp enough to notice that his GPS had cut off without warning and go from there.

The sound of the gun butt hitting the cement has Roy spin quickly, moving off to the side to immediately avoid whatever targeting was being done, hand slapping to his crossbow. Damn it, he -had- to be better prepared for this, especially with…

"Hey, you're not the Baroness," Roy mutters, eyes meeting the one eye. "Not too bad, though… you really want me to peek some more?"

"Shoulda made sure it was sealed properly." Taskmaster grunts then waves the men in to the truck, "Keep that in there get everything else out. I want all of this cleaned and inventory taken. I got an estimated list and the numbers better match up or I'm gonna be real real mad."
Taskmaster strides past the first truck towards the second, closer towards Roy's direction around the corner.
"Hey boss, lookit this!" A large bulb-headed object the size and length of a firearm is held up. "Looks like something out of Star Wars!"
"Must be the plasma blaster. Careful with that. It's one of the reasons I paid for this crapheap." New tech is key to making it in this business and the black market's acquisition specialists are swarming allover Metropolis right now. Ever the opportunist Taskmaster was just waiting for one of his guys to get hands on some of the fallout and behold he delivered. What you get and what is usable is entirely another question. It's almost like Pawn Stars or some equally terrible scripted reality shit show for supervillainy.
The Roy disturbance remains unnoticed as does Daredevil lurking somewhere near.
"Welp, I suppose I got what I paid for. Get to it boys and gals."

They had him at 'Plasma blasters'. He's pretty sure that -those- are illegal. That's his cue and he's going to take it. Daredevil quickly rappels his way down from the roof of the Theater and pretty much right in the middle of the thugs unloading the items.

"Sorry to break up the party, but these aren't going anywhere." He's not going to wait for them to train their guns on him. He's just going to start moving and attacking, hopefully weaving himself between the thugs well enough that they can't get an easy shot on him.

When Roy turns around, for a moment Ravager does not move, the light tilt of her head slowly rises as if a slow recognition is gaining and from his face her eyes dart to his arm and then to his other and back to him. Slowly she rises and with her that cannon does, but remains level, apparently not parsing he went for a crossbow at all.

"How's Lian?" Two words, not so easily choked out, because the world she came from she watched that child, lost her eye protecting that child, and in the end when it all went to shit Lian died and other-Roy went off the deep end leaving him one armed and eyeballs deep in cocaine laced booze cocktails of death. Who was she to stop him? Here…

The commotion from Daredevil though is unavoidable and as the tango gets started, the cannon now flipped back and just as it is arching on the holster up and over her head to land across her back two kunai are drawn and pivoted around fingers to land within her palms that plant upon the ground while a leg arches up and through the air to plant heavy soled boot into his chest and send him sailing back and more into view.

"Depends. Do you kiss and tell?"

"Awh wat the hell!?" Mikey the bigred headed fellow takes a mouth full of crimson foot as the trio around the first truck start to tangle with Daredevil. He is out of their league and quickly making short work of them. "Its that guy! The Devil guy!" Crack. Thump.
Guns are drawn and a shot goes off but its wide and hits an railing somewhere near and ricochets off something else metal.
Taskmaster peers around the corner of the truck to look left and right. To his left Daredevil is giving his thugs a beat down and to his right Roy Harper has just come in to view. "This your doing? No one gets paid unless these two chumps go down! You hear me?!"
Three of the henchmen are already around Daredevil either standing or on the ground, Steve is incoming with a knife in hand. The other four men who were also part of the transport crew join the skirmish, two more to assist their already losing allies and another two rushing Rose and Roy.
Taskmaster vanishes inside the truck and begins kicking things around. Apparently he is looking for something.

Daredevil's first aim is to get the knife out of Steve's hands and toss it away - or just knock Steve out before he can actually connect to flesh with that knife. Either works.

He's surrounded and outnumbered, but he's almost used to that at this point. Having 'No Fear' sometimes leads to having a very little sense of self-preservation when it comes to these events. He aims to dispatch of the weapons first before taking care of the unarmed.

"Lian…?" Roy wasn't quite sure who -this- person was. "How do you…?" he begins, before the commotion Daredevil causes distracts him long enough.

When his attention returns, that split second is more than enough for 'Lady Vic' to kick him, and forcing him into the view. "Damn it!" Roy growls, his crossbow now moving. "Hey, Taskie… good to see you again. If this isn't your boss, she certainly kicks like the last one!"

"Or is she alive here?!" Ravager presses on now as he is in view, her kick followed through with a pivot of hips that has her landing with her back to Roy as she inquires but those kunai are flicked back over her shoulder towards him, that cannon now given a boost with the heel of her hand to sling back over her shoulders as if on a pivoting holster and not a sturdy reinforced strap, landing in her hand to fire towards Daredevil and the goons, though moreso towards the ground. What the cannon fires though, is a force that leaves the ground cratered and the kick up of crete shrapnel enough to force a major knock back and…well if you get hit by the bits… Not sorry 'bout it! Arms, legs, and fingers here.

The cannon blast actually skids Ravager back several feet with the recoil force, the scrape of soles over the cement the sound of bracing, standing still at the other end of the electrically charged weapon, the barrel emanating a blue smoking glow.

"Boss? That's cute. I thought you only eyed tits, not obeyed their call." Ravager states towards Task in chiding to Roy's inquiry.
Taskmaster had only been listening to the comms and outside voices enough to catch bits and pieces. He's witnessed Daredevil in action before once that he recalls and knows the man is a top notch fighter with agility that beats out his own. Possibly even the Ravagers. He's got a slight buzz and in no mood to tangle with a guy on his table especially since he figures Rose is going to be busy with Roy.
"Nope, Lady Snake and I are taking a break. This ones legs are almost as nice though, I agree. Almost." That is about all the attention he is giving Arsenal for the moment instead he is tinkering with a flat disc in his hand, gloved fingers probing over it. "How did he say this should activate… ah, there we go." A SIG P250 is drawn and aimed at Daredevil and the brawlers. "Hey, yo, I hope your suit guy is as good."
Taskmaster doesn't seem to be choosy about his target he is aimed at the Hell's Kitchen vigilante but not exactly going point on with his shots. Even if he does have the firearm skills of elites like Deathstroke and Domino.
A gasp sound escapes Rocko as an exit wound appears on his shoulder and he topples.
It's not the gunfire that is aimed at Daredevil but what comes in with a follow up. That aero-disc of Apokoplitian origin and design - it has been thrown directly at Daredevil like a shield toss from Captain America and upon connect with the middle of the man's chest it will cast him airborne and flying through the air on a joyride through his beloved city until he figures out how to disconnect it. Then its a simple trick of surviving the fall.
If Taskmaster is successful in this little gimmick he'll have one of the tight wearing crusaders out of his hair for the night at least. Relentless lot though.
"She paid well." Curt when it comes to the Baroness, Taskmaster has a soft spot.

"Oh, T&A are good too… for him, in order, it's always ALTs!" Roy responds, trying to steer clear of Ravager. "And… what the heck, Lian alive here? She -better- not be here if she knows what's good for her…! Kori should have her at home…" Wait, what? Roy wasn't quite sure what Rose was talking about, and so … what the hell was that? That couldn't be the -Intergang- equipment, could it…?

"So she's alive…." Something in Ravager seems to shift, that look seemed to lessen in the narrowed and keen edge and swings that large weapon towards Arsenal this time though the charge does not sound, instead it powers down and she slings it back over her shoulder to rest across her back, walking towards Taskmaster and away from who-she-knew-elsewhere-and-now-here, Roy. That changed a few things.

"Well, no one's paying me good enough to send him home broken, tonight." Pausing beside Taskmaster she reaches to te side and slams the truck door shut bearing the alien corpse when her nose wrinkles at capturing the putrid odor. "And your ass, legs, and pecks don't make up for it."

Looking back at Roy, Ravager speaks up before disappearing within the alley. "I suggest you leave bfore luck runs out or he decides to sweat it out." A thumb over her shoulder to Task and gone.
Daredevil takes flight to join the pigeons and birds above New York while the canon fire from Ravager chews cement up and spits it out like confetti in all directions, "Wooo!" Taskmaster exclaims as the debris cloud clears, "Did anyone else see that? That turned out more awesome than I thought it would."
"What Boss?" A loud yell comes from Steve who can't hear apparently. "Did you say something boss? I think Rocko is dead and so is Mikey. You and her killed them. That other guy just broke everyone… "
"Oh shut up, Steve. No one cares. Just start loading up the trucks so we can get out of here before red dead pajamas comes back and kicks the shit out of more of you."
Yelling down the alley, "Bard, your friend is gone and I hope my lady friend didn't kill your ass. I do suggest you back away and not report these trucks until we're long gone." Mumbling under his breath, "Dude is becoming a royal pain in the ass, always sniffing around all my gigs." He'll have to figure that one out later but right now isn't the time. Merchandise needs moved and quickly before SHIELD or this DEO shows up or even competitors, possibly even new capes and tights. Damn… what a world…
"Aight, lets roll and quick!"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License