There Was A Plan

April 10, 2016:

Clint recruits a redheaded hacker and a flyer to steal more tech …. what could go wrong?

In The Air


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

So there's a plan. The kind of plan only a madman who does superheroics with a recurve can come up with. The plan runs thus: Because certain parties seem to be grabbing all the tech and experimental data related to dimensional and high energy physics that they can and because they have questionable, possibly very hostile intent it'd be a good thing to not let them have it. Unfortunately, because these people have insinuated themselves into various power structures, this involves stealing those things. For National Security. And Jsutice.

The ARC-5 prototype does… a thing. What it does is actually highly, highly classified but it does seem to be related to a SHIELD project called 'longbow' that was recently discovered by certain parties to be a rogue operation involving teleporting technology. Sadly, it seems this project had a very secret DoD counterpart. Which, okay, is worrying but a certain madman with a recruve had called over to a hacker friend of his and asked him/her/it to work with one Sam Wilson to clean up the matter. Just a simple matter of BSing his way onto a highly secure military base and making off with it. Right?

It gets better. Twelve hours ago word came through that the prototype was being moved from Langley Air Force Base to an undisclosed location in Colorado. It's presently halfway there, cruising in a military transport that is, curiously, not running any military markings, transponder or apparently reporting to anyone at all and escorted by a flight of aircraft that, officially, were never put into production. Stealing something from an airplane midflight when you werne't on it to begin with is impossible. Right? Right?

Sam Wilson, his usual goggles augmented by an oxygen mask and his usual flight patterns augmented by freezing his ass off, curses the day he ever let Clint Barton get three syllables into an idea without dropping the good old reliable 'imma stop you right there' in his path. The Exo suit can technically fly at this altitude, though not without burning through a lot of fuel — the wings aren't giving the usual level of lift in air this thin. That's the least of the issues for its pilot, though.

"Siri, remind me: Cap's plans good, Clint's plans bad," he says dryly over the communicator, sort of teasing Oracle. His voice resonates weirdly in the mask he's wearing. The stealth version of his suit will hopefully keep him innocuous on radar, but there will be an awkward moment if any of these escort pilots look straight at him with their less-easily-fooled eyeballs.

Falcon swoops in from the side, then slots in behind the main aircraft, letting the low-pressure slipstream behind it buoy him and compensate for his own lack of lift. He'll thrust like mad to close the short distance between him and the aircraft, and then let the Talon magnetic grapple take care of the rest.

"How do I let myself get caught up with these things." That's Oracle, speaking to herself for a moment. She had known when Clint had asked for help and specifically for Sam, that she'd likely have a lot of brow rubbing… she wasn't wrong.

Staring at the screens, she shakes her head. "Stealth technology…" it had taken a while to configure her systems to find anything else these craft were using. Filtering signals to, hopefully, find the right ones.

"I haven't had the pleasure of working with Cap." Oracles digitally disguised voice responds to Falcon "But Ronins' plans, in my estimation, often leave an awful lot to be desired.

"Tracking you, Falcon. Good luck with this." Now … where the heck has Ronin got to?

Ronin's plans largely consist of 'you got this, right? Becuase you've got wings. You should have this.' To be fair he's an excellent spy and his grasp of the tactical situations with which he is familair is pretty solid. Just not… this one.

Anyway there's four escorts all X-31 EFM… well allegedly there was only a couple of prototypes for that thrust vectoring technology testbed. Apparently… not the case. The plane he's just latched onto? C-141 Starlifter. Which is a fairly hefty transport craft and it's sporting a few 'blisters' on the back and sides that don't… make a whole lot of sense.

Anyway, good news, Sam's magnetic graple has him latched onto the transport. Better news, Oracle may have a way into the aircraft's navigational computers and autopilot via the GPS software. Bad news? The moment Sam latched on there was a comm traffic spike and the rear two escorts just sped up to get a closer look…

The grapple shot was a little ornery, thanks to the greater pressure differential, but it did its job, getting him attached to the underside of the aircraft. Sam retracts his wings to reduce drag, and the winch built into his gauntlet strains to bring him forward to the fuselage itself. He's placed himself correctly: just behind one of the landing gear hatches. Now he just has to hope that Oracle knows how to get the damned thing open.

And, his HUD starts blinking at him in furious amber letters, that the escort fighters moving in from behind him will be cool. We're cool, right, guys? Falcon swears and fumbles in one of his many, many pockets, looking for… there it is: a little metallic sphere with a dial and a button. It looks a bit like the thermal detonator from Return of the Jedi. He rotates the dial, slams his thumb down on the button, and tosses the sphere away.

A second later and several hundred meters behind, the decoy bursts in a cloud of chaff — not the usual radio-scattering stuff, but a material designed to reflect plainly and look like it might be aircraft hull. The RADAR contact will be weird, but definitely there. "C'mon, Oracle. Do your cyberpunk thing. Hack the leet ice, or whatever," Sam mutters, half to himself, half to move his body and prevent it from freezing in a solid block.

It's highly doubtful that Oracle is 'leet'. The GPS software is truly state of the art, and it's taken her this long to get into the system… "I'm in Falcon. This stuff is really quite good." She's going to take a sample of the code, well the whole lot, if she can. "You want the landing gear open?" Another moment, that Sam probably ages another decade in, and the panel pops open, giving him access.

Now, the redhead turns her attention to actually trying to control the plane.

The chaff does prevent Sam from showing up on radar, which means the escort jets will need a visiual on him to identify him. That visual never happens though because the moment Oracle gets the landing gear open the transport goes into a sharp dive. While they crew isn't sure what's happened they do know that someone just overrode the landing gear control - the lights being hard wired and analogue - and that means they have to take measures.

Oracle's going to have her hands full jamming comms for a minute because that tight band communicator just lit up. Whomever they're talking to on the ground they're talking to very loudly now. Sam? Well… Sam's just going to have his hands full period. Inside the cargo compartment a quartet of armed guards hang on to cargo straps and ready weapons as best they can while watching a secured pallet with a large metal crate on it.

"Yesiwantthelandinggearopen!" Sam says in a teeth-chattering burst just before the hatch opens and he can dive inside. It's going to screw with the aerodynamics, for sure, but that's partly the point: throw people around a bit just before he jumps aboard. The gear doesn't have to fully deploy, either: he edges past the wheels and into the body of the plane, scanning for enemies and drawing an ICER. "Okay, you can close the hatches now," he tells Oracle, having to struggle to stay upright himself in the wildly pitching aircraft.

Jamming comms should be easy, right? Just switch the transmitter off and it all goes away? But this is state of the art of technology and turning off anything just isn't easy. Instead, Gothams Information Goddess injects 'white noise' into the system, designed to make any communiction difficult.

Still watching her screens and the readouts, green eyes intent on the happenings. It's only when she hears Sams report that she lets out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and the hatches close as her hands move over the console.

Oh there are enemies. Gunfire near Sam's head does not - amazingly - punch a hole in the skin of the aircraft. Must be armored which is very, very unusual. It does spark though and definitely lets Sam know he's been spotted. One of the guards lets go of the cargo netting and half jumps half falls right at Falcon and his ICER. All of them are wearing matte black gear with P-90's. Sort of… high firepower for the inside of an aircraft. Two of them are trying to get around and as the plane levels off that's a bit easier, but it's pitching randomly now because they're 'on the deck' flying feet above the ground. Something that's impossible without terrain following radar which is something else this aircraft shouldn't have. One of them falls and hits the controls to the cargo ramp, which opens, revealing the escorts chasing.

Oracle has… an interesting problem. Someone is counter hacking her. Trying to kick her out of the aircraft's systems. It's no one in the aircraft itself, that's for sure, and whomever it is they're using a very high tech setup. The interferance is going to slow things up at best.

Sam grunts in shock — there's no way these guys should be carrying P-90s. There's also no way a damned stun sidearm is going to measure up, so he doesn't even bother fighting the guard who tackles him for control of his ICER — he drops the weapon moments before they collide, grabs the guy by the shirt front, and does a sort of rotating judo move to flip him around and slam him against the metal floor. Crouched, he activates the Exo thruster and jets at an alarming speed toward a second guard, aiming for one of those satisfying shoulder-to-midsection collisions, curling the metal wings into a shield that he can keep between himself and their insanely overpowered return fire.

At least they're only trying to kick her out of the aircrafts systems, but still, the redheaded hacker sets up countermeasures, routing her own traffic round the world. If someone tries to find her, well, they'll have to be exceptionally good.

Rather than meet the counter hacking head on, Oracle sends out a number of 'worms', small programs that embed themselves in the rootkit of the system and start attacking the system from within. With that distraction, it should leave her somewhat freer to maintain her hold on the systems.

Report, Falcon.

It's kind of a nice day in Central City. Really is. The sort of day that doesn't come along that often. Perfectly normal except for… We've got a little bit of an odd one out on county road 95. A jackknifed tractor trailer is holding up traffic. The driver says that he had to swerve, and ultimately jackknifed, to avoid - get this - a low flying military transport.

Whether or not anyone's going to believe it, those amber waves of grain are getting mighty disturbed as the blacked out C-141 transport jets along feet off the ground with the rear cargo hatch open doing four hundred knots easy and followed by a quartet of experimental fighter jets all trying to figure what the hell is going on.

Inside Sam manages to make the tackle which puts him next to one of the other guards. The good news, at this range that more or less takes the guns out of play. The bad news is that someone is going for him with a knife and if that werne'd bad enough the copilot twists in his seat and fires a couple of shots back more or less blindly.

"We have to set down!" Oracle can now hear the pilot and copilot talking in a very animated state thanks to a stuck open mic. They've given up on trying to radio the station in Colorado.

"I know. Bring us around to Waystation Charlie. We'll put down there." The captain twists back. "STOP PLAYING AROUND WITH THAT ASSHOLE AND GUT HIM ALREADY!" The cabin twists abruptly as the aircraft banks, coming onto a southerly course… slowly. It's getting harder and harder to control this thing. That is of course because Oracle is nearly in.

"Little busy, Oracle," Sam grunts, rolling off of the guard he just tackled and flinging his improvised 'shield' open. Going from a curled-up protective stance to flung wide, the wings should smack the guy trying to knife him right back across the top of the plane's cargo. That done, Sam folds the wings away and dives behind the crate for cover, hoping that no one will be gung ho enough to destroy — well, whatever's in this big damned metal crate. He flicks his goggles to an IR filter so he'll be able to see his enemies even through cover.

"I know creepy robots don't do a lot of fighting but it traditionally takes" — he rounds the corner of the crate, somersaulting past a guard at thigh height, then jabs him in the back of the knee to bring him down to his level and bashes one elbow against his cheekbone — "y'know, focus."

"Nearly have it, Falcon." Oracle reports as her little scripts do a bulk of the work for her. These guys are good though, the code is pretty solid. Nearly making a lie out of the womans belief that most code never goes out of beta.

But there are still flaws and she plans to exploit them …. ….. that should give her the control that they need.

"… there was a moral message about how life finds a way, and besides, the core story wasn't even about Dinosaurs; it was Alan Grant's growth as a character that drove the plot. He was introduced as the kind of grumpy, anti-social, child-hating jerk who thought it was perfectly reasonable to a traumatise a poor kid who didn't respect his profession by explaining in excessively gory detail just how a Velociraptor could disembowel him. But by the end of the film, he became a surrogate father figure to Lex and Tim. The dinosaurs were the backdrop to the characterisation, but in Jurassic World, the humans are used as the backdrop to the dinosaurs. And that's perfectly fine… in a Godzilla film! But I expect more from a Jurassic Park film. And don't get me started about running from a Tyrannosaurus Rex in high…"

And the Flash never finished that thought. Officer Platt and MacDonald were left hanging, as the traffic alert appeared on one of the monitors in the Central City Police Department. Something about a jack-knifed tractor out in the boonies. Officer Platt turned to his partner and asked, "so, do you want to explain the pallet of cocaine bags on the sergeant's desk, or should we just let him find out on his own?"

Arriving a few moments later, the Flash tries to get a bead on the situation, quickly checking to see if anyone needs medical attention. He'll quickly buckle the farmer into the passenger side of a Lexus, "he seems pretty stable, but if you could get this man to a hospital, I'd really appreciate it." Before he can hear a no, he's off, trying to deal with the congestion by putting his back to the tractor and pushing. The thing must weigh a few tons, but he does manage to move it. Too bad he tears up two Flash foot-like grooves in the road, but that'll be sorted out later. And with that feat accomplished, he heads in the direction of the noise from the aircraft that flew by. All in the day's work.

The sight that greets the Flash might be out of a movie that needs more characterization and less special effects. Though there is presently a heartening buddy cop kind of relationship budding between Falcon and Oracle. Too bad no one else can hear it happening. What is obvious is that there's a military transport flying way to low to be flying and way too fast to have the back door open and not quite fast enough that the Flash can't catch it. Seriously. Four hundred plus miles an hour is good, but Barry can do that easy. The Scarlett Speedster could probably hop into the back door if he wanted and ask what was up.

Equally obvious is that something is amiss inside, as evidenced by the muzzle flashes coming from the cockpit. Sam's dive behind the cargo gets the shooting to stop. But more ominously… "Harold take the controls. I got this."

The captain unbuckles and steps out of the pilot's compartment. As he does something crawls out of him and the former pilot drops like a rag doll. Over him, hunched over to fit is a huge lizard thing made of translucent blue with a tentacl-y face and razor sharp claws. It'd be fifteen feet tall if it could stand up. As it is it fills the cargo compartment as it stalks back, reaching out for Sam's mind. Come out, come out wherever you are…. Not like it doesn't know where he is. The unearthly screach that it roars in challenge is easily audible even over the aircraft's engines where the Flash is. And over the radio to Oracle.

Speaking of Oracle, all her systems go green. She is now in full navigational control of that aircraft. The moment she gets it though she notices several warnings. Someone's got a Radar lock. It looks like the escorts are getting ready to shoot the aircraft down rather than let it get taken. Well… good thing it's got a… laser defensive system? Huh. Well okay then.

"I was going to complain about the irony of a flying man dying in a plane crash," Falcon says through gritted teeth, facing the gaping cargo hatch with his back to the cargo crate. "But if the alternative is getting killed by one of these lizard dickbags, I take it back." He sets a HUD inset to the mini-cameras in his gauntlets, flips his forearms over the crate, and fires both talons at the daemonite. Two great big X-shaped cable snares leap out at the alien beastie, and the moment either one hits, Sam's going to trigger the electric taser setting and — he hopes — fry the approaching monster.

And it's a good thing that Oracle did some remote flying lessons with the Batwing. Different systems, but the redhead learns quickly. As her systems go green, the Information Goddess programs the system to start to bring the plane up … not so quickly though that Barry won't catch it. She's good, but that's a lot of new tech she's learning.

As the screech sounds, the redhead mutes the comm, shaking her head even as her eyes water. Good heavens, that hurt…. Turning the volume down, and then unmuting … she waits till that nightmare is over before resuming normal operations.

It's the flash of crimson that she catches on the traffic camera's that momentarily draws her attention "You're about to have company, Falcon. The good and fast kind." she reports, eyes widening as the radar lock is detected.

"Right, then" she speaks to herself, quickly scanning the systems … "This should do it." and then into her comm "Hold on tight, this might get a bit bumpy." The defensive system … pulses weakly before slowly charging to full power.

The Flash runs alongside the low-flying military transport, and makes a gesture for it to pull over. Of course, it's unlikely that anyone can see him trying to flag it down. And when that fails, he slows his pace so that he runs behind it, and jumps onto the open hanger just as the craft begins to ascend, and he nearly loses his balance, but he grabs a hold of a railing to save off any unpleasantness. "Now, as I was trying to say, what's going on here?" He's not really talking to anyone in particular, just giving voice to his own curiosity.

What is apparently going on is that there's a man in a wingsuit - a cool high tech wingsuit and not one of those wearable blankets that make you look like a flying squirrel - using a cable taser on the worlds most overgrown iguana-c'thulhu cosplayer. Perfectly sensible, yes?

The lizard thing screeches and smokes as it's hit. One hand grips the cable and holds onto it, whether by will or by the force of electricty doing that thing it does. It's bought Sam one critical thing, though, time. The lizard-thing's clealry hurt. But also not down. It's eyes flash and it shoves that crate Sam's hiding behind with it's mind, causing it to jerk back on it's rails a good foot or two. Then it's attention turns to the new comer and it tries to take another step forward…

A missile fires from behind. Automated chaff systems deploy and the warhead detonates some distance back but it's still enough to give the transport a good shake which makes mini-godzilla here bump his head on the roof hard and snarl, giving Sam and Barry another opening. Oracle can 'see' on her screens the four fighter jets manuvering for missile locks or shooting angles. The lasers pulse once, weakly, and then again, taking one down to crash into a mountain side. They're starting to come over the foothills to the Rockies now. The others open up with guns forcing Oracle to take evasive action even as the co-pilot attempts a hard reboot to regain control…

Falcon's boots scramble for purchase on the deck as his cover skids worryingly closer to the exit and the airplane is rocked by the detonation shockwave. Sam stares at the Flash for a second, then points over his shoulder at the 15-foot tentacle-faced reptilian monster that his suit is helpfully electrocuting throughout their conversation. "The psychic lizard is the bad guy," he explains, he hopes unnecessarily.

After a second to let that sink in, he spins to one side, metallic wings extending and lowering to slash at the securements keeping the crate in place. He's sacrificing his cover, yes, but if he can get the cargo off this plane, that's mission success. He retracts the talon cables and yanks, trying to keep the daemonite literally off-balance a little longer, and kicks the crate toward the hatch, giving it whatever encouragement he can to bail out.

"Sorry Falcon." Oracles digitised voice sounds out through the plane. She knows who he has a companion. "Laser defenses are depleted… taking evasive action. Hold on tight."

"Oh no you don't… " the Co Pilot is met by a little 'jolt' of power as he tries to reboot the system. It will sting, might even cause him to pass out, but no permanent damage …. err probably.

With deft movements, the plane swerves and dips … seeking to make it an untouchable target.

The Flash is doing his darnedest to keep on his feet, but the transport keeps rocking, making him too and fro, but he manages to compensate for the lack of balance. Not knowing Falcon from Freddy, the Flash isn't entirely sure who the bad guy is, but as racist as it may seem, he figures it's the one that looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Looking around, the Flash grabs a cable, and gets it loose of its groove by varying the vibration of his hand, then tugs at it, trying to get enough to bind the creature. But it's not long enough, and he has to give it a few more tugs, "oh come on." He's moving so fast, trying to make sure that thing doesn't get him, but it's clear that he wants to hog tie the thing with that cable. "Hey, Birdman, I'm taking it on faith that you're one of the good guys. You want to explain where Gino came from?" As every Godzilla fan will know, Gino was the name for TriStar Pictures' 1998 monster movie abomination, Godzilla In Name Only.

Gino or Denver or whatever it's name is is knocked off it's balance by the Flash's cabling and Sam's continued electrocuting and the god-damned plane making like one of those spin-tron carnivale rides. When Sam cuts the cargo loose, though, it's eyes widen and the lizard dives for it. Clearly it doesn't want to lose that. And, to it's credit, it does manage to grab the cargo netting and stop it's exit. Bad news? Well diving like that gives the Flash the perfect chance to hogtie it. Now it's struggling and Sam well knows this thing is Psychic, but it's struggles are weakening with each successive shock. Maybe it's time to just… give it some encouragement to say goodnight…

Oracle's evasive maneuvers cause two of the pursuing aircraft to collide leaving her with just one to deal with. Cannon rounds slice through the body of the plane, one passing perilously close to Sam's head. In the front there's a 'thud'. Uh. Who's flying this thing now?

The plane is juking around so wildly that Sam actually has to take to the air for a second, thrusters and wings keeping him steady before his boots reconnect with the deck. "Avengers Justice League SHIELD Stark Enterprises and the ever-loving United States Air Force yes I am a good guy," Falcon blurts out in a rush. A literal rush, in fact — he might not be as quick on his feet as the Flash, but he lunges forward, leaps, and chops downward with one wing, aiming to acquaint the daemonite's grabbing arm with the sharp edge of the vibranium-laced 'feathers' it comprises. "We need to get that crate and our own asses off this plane before that thing brain-whammies us!"

Oracle is flying this plane! She's got control of the piloting controls, remotely and using every ounce of skill Batman taught her to 'duck and weave' whatever that last plane throws at them.

Oh wait! There's a weapons system. Targetted the last plane, Oracle closes her eyes for a moment. The Bats have a strictly no kill policy … and what she's about to do might … violate that. A laser pulse goes out as the wiley redhead banks the plane away, heading for the agreed co-ordinates.

"The crate, huh, okay." And the Flash seems to move so fast, it's hard to even keep up with him visually. He's going for the restraints, trying to make it so that there's a nice easy path for the crate to slip out of the plane. They are still flying pretty, or they were the last time Barry had a good look out the hatch. "This stuff isn't fragile, is it?" He asked, but he wasn't really asking too closely, as he's already trying to push the darned thing out the back of the aircraft. Playing keep away with Gorn, what will they think of next?

Falcon's, er, Falcon Pun- er chop, rather… neatly bites into the Daemonite's arm and makes it let go. The equipment begins to slide free and very shortly it is free, flying out the back of the aircraft as Oracle banks them again and fires the lasers one last time. Whether its the lasers or flying crate that gets the last pursuer is unclear, but gotten it is. Which leaves Falcon and Barry on an airplane… with a snake. Or something vaguely related to a snake.

Time to bug out? Oracle's got the controls. Surely she can think of some place to send Larry the Lizard here.

"Better broken than left with these guys, believe me" Falcon tells Flash over his shoulder, running what interference he can as the speedster clears a path and wrestles the crate out the hatch. As the crate goes flying, he leans forward, grits his teeth, and barks something nasty-sounding at the alien creature. Was that parseltongue? It was pretty spitty, whatever it was. Say it, don't spray it, Falcon.

He doesn't hang around waiting for a reply (or a towel). He turns and bolts, making a slight detour to scoop up the Flash along the way. "Time to go!" He doesn't even wait to get out of the plane before letting the wings take over, swooping out of the aircraft much faster than he could have run.

Something Oracle knows of planning is that all plans rarely survive first encounter. This one certainly didn't!

As Falcon and Falcon disembark - no, don't keep your arms inside the plane please - the redhead takes the plane up…. keeping it climbing as high as she can as she angles it over what should be a deserted mountain area.

The engines are likely to give out before the hull explodes … or is it implodes at this altitude… either may, Larry The Lizard should be shredded … and the debris hopefully falls where no real harm can be done.

The Flash probably could have survived. He might have moved his arms around, creating a cyclonic force to gently set down on the ground. He could have done something similar with his legs. And if neither of those worked for him, he could always just trying running. If he moves his legs fast enough, there wouldn't be enough of an impact to damage him. But getting a lift from Falcon is welcome. He rarely gets saved. "Thanks for the lift, but, and please don't drop me for asking this, but what does an Avengers Justice League Shield Stark United States Air Force member want with a Gorn and a super secret crate?"

Said crate is somewhere, uh, back there. Oracle's picking up a transponder so it won't be too hard for Barry and Sam to home in on. Well, Sam anway. She can give directions. There's all kinds of traffic on military bands now most to effect of 'what the actual hell is going on'.

None of which Falcon or The Scarlett Speedster have to worry about at the moment. If either bother to look, what's in the crate is a bunch of framing pieces that, when pieced together make a circle about ten feet high with feeds for a lot of power.

Phone home, anyone?

"You can just call me Falcon. It implies all that other stuff," Falcon says with a smirk as they soar away from the electronically hijacked plane. "We call those things daemonites. You call them Gorn? Have you been dealing with them in your neck of the woods?" He pauses, his amusement giving way to worry, then continues, "The crate had tech in it. Tech we think they're trying to use to build some kind of spacetime tunnel straight to our doorstep. At the moment, the ways they can take here are limited and temporary, which is basically the only way we've been able to hold them off."

"Hello Flash. Nice to meet you again." Oracle manages to activate the conference facility on Falcons communicator. Hopefully she doesn't deafen him again.

"Coordinates being transferred to you now, Falcon. Pick up the box and we'll take a look." The redhead sits back in her chair for a moment … it's rehab time soon, maybe she'll be joined by a druid who will tease her.

"Ronin. We have the package and the threat is averted." Now … where is the troublesome archer?

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Falcon. I'd shake your hand if you weren't currently carrying me - Gorn? No, that's a, well, really, you aren't familiar with Star Trek? Nevermind, that was the first daemonite I've met. If you need help with more of them, I'll be there. Oh, and I'm the Flash." It's a good thing that he stops there, because Falcon was probably going to drop him if he kept up with the chatter.

What comes out of the other end might deafen Sam since Oracle's conferenced a certain 'Ronin' in. "HOLY SHIT SHE'S A BEAR! NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HUGE ASS BEARS! UH, CALL YOU BACK ORACLE!" And then the line goes dead.

Hopefully when someone manages to get ahold of 'Ronin' again, he's both alive and sane.

Well, right. So, box goes back to that one place, right?

Sam reels and nearly drops the Flash as Clint starts screaming over his already overdriven earpiece speaker. "Damn it, Oracle, never loudspeaker me to Clint! Just because he's deaf doesn't mean the rest of us have to be! Ugh." He trails off, fuming and following the crate beacon on his HUD in silence, then gradually warms back up. "I watched a lot of Next Generation as a kid, but I'm not one of the guys who knows episode names and stuff," he clarifies for the Flash. After a second, he realizes something and looks at the man he's carrying in awe. "Wait, if Batman's rogue AI can't hack your earpiece — does that mean… you don't have an earpiece? Oh my god. How did you pull that off? Where do I sign up?"

"Uh…. sorry." the redheaded Gothamite hits the keys on her consoles, trying to mute Clints frantic update. Bear? What Bear? Mays gonna get a call about that. "You know where to take that box, right Falcon?" Just in case she sends him the co-ordinates again.

"Who said I couldn't hack his earpiece?" the 'rogue AI' manages to sound affronted "But you Falcon, have SHIELD and JL:A clearance." Very soon, Barry's phone and (if he permits) earpiece will be accessible by … Batmans rogue AI (frown).

"If you need me further, I'll be here. Oracle out." Gothams Information Goddess has other work to do.

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