Beta Team Is Down

June 04, 2016:

There's activity at OsCorp which pings on a few peoples radar. What they find - is unexpected. (emits by Aquaman)

New York


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

<We have,> a short pause to check a watch of somekind, <four minutes for ordinary response time.> There only responce is the soft clicking of radios. Two dozen men in black body suits and armor shouldering blocky oddly designed weapons ghost down the halls with silent foot treds. Looking somewhere between ninjas and spec ops, they move well as a unit, presice and focused. There's a sudden stoppage, something like confusion and one of the men hits his throat mic, <Sir, there is a T junction here that wasn't in the schematics.> the responce comes quickly, <Osborn is paranoid, it's likely not the only alteration to the filed building plans. Split up, find me the labratory.> <Yes, sir!> a flurry of hand motions and the men split into equal forces and head off in opposite directions. One of the men pauses, his head canted slightly to the side as he slowly scans the area with the twin red lenses of his goggles, weapon shouldered. <You got something?> the lead asks, the first man only answers after a handful of seconds, <No sir. Thought I heard something, good to go.> they nod and continue on their way, careful, silent, and unaware.

The softest 'tec' noise of a depressed preasure plate was almost enough to give away it's location. Almost. Silent alarms begin to tick on an NYPD server farm, in the private residence of Norman Osborn, and on the boards of any entrepreneurial person who might have a interest in keeping an 'illegal' eye on Osborn's facilities.

Mari McCabe has found herself in some interesting places lately. Working with a certain archer, tracking down shipments of Sentinel parts and now … very human like robots, has turned her life slightly upside down. A bit. Of course, heading her own company McCabe Industries - that is in no way 'technology' based - keeps her busy as well.

However, a 'hit' on activity within a tech mogul like OsCorp certainly gets her attention and the dark skinned woman is sitting atop a nearby building, waiting … she'd put a call out to an acquaintance asking if backup was possible.

"Sir, there's been a silent intrusion alarm tripped at Oscorp HQ, picked up by NYPD."

"Who's closest?"

"Agent May, sir."

"Send it."

Already en route at the request of a Ms. McCabe, May sees the message come through on her SHIELD comm and acknowledges it just as she steps onto the same rooftop as the Vixen. She gives the younger woman a nod. Ready when you are.

Something something sentinel parts, improved twerking technology, terrorize worst enemies, something something, sentinel dance team. Nevertheless, unair is skulking about. Lunair has some stealth capabilities. She can mimic Laughing Octopus' stealth, proving that for some people? Video games ARE edcational. And she's working on slipping in. If needed, there's a janitor uniform on her. Well, one that she creates anyway. She's gotten good at mimicing clothes.

Except right now? She's on the Oscorp rooftop, and visible mostly through infrared and predator-esque flickers of light.

<You have company.> comes the voice of their leader through the radios, <Our spotters picked up rooftop activity.> there's a soft cussword whispered from one of the men in the hall, <Capes.> the men inside grow more serious. Cop don't come in through the roof. <It's not the spider, which is a good sign. Second contact, this one with stealth technologies.> another pause, <No ID on either. Prepare for assault.> two of the men in teh group instantly take knees and begins assembling something from the packs on their backs while the other team, now headed the other way down the opposite hall, split off to being placing anti-personel mines in the shadows of the hall behind them. <And find me the lab! Double Time!> the men not making preperations give up on being sneaky and just job down halls, checking corners, windows, and doors as they go, seeking the ellusive labratory.

Capes? Mari doesn't wear a cape! She's dressed in a brown leather and kevlar jumpsuit with a mustard yellow relief across the breast, the foxheaded pendant at her throat.

Not surprised, this time, at Mays arrival, Vixen nods in return - not realising they've been made. Seeing something 'flicker' on the next rooftop, she raises her chin and gestures. "Something there, I can't make it out though." she begins "Not sure what's inside, but shall we? Rooftop entrance?" Assuming May doesn't mind flying - well, like they've done before - Mari concentrates and the glowing form of a hawk surrounds her, as she holds on to May … moving them across to the OsCorp building and putting them down near the door, somewhere close to Lunair.

May can try the door.

And then suddenly, A CARDBOARD BOX BEHIND THEm. REE REE REEEEEEEEEEEE! (That's horror music!)

"Hey, be careful with that door. I think the lock is electromagnetic and linked to a computer," A voice from under a sad looking box calls. Okay, so she gave up the predator thing, but there is a faint glimmer beneath it. So she's stealthed. Beneath a cardboard box. But Lunair's tactics and lockbreaking only extend so far. "I was curious and heard some RUMORS." Yes. "Oh hi!" Her voice is quiet. But she is polite.

May is NOT a fan of flying unless she's in control of the vehicle, but she'll put up with it. This time. She's approaching the door when a voice she's heard before speaks up. Looking over at the cardboard box, she manages to not roll her eyes as she pulls a small electronic device from an interior pocket of the black leather(?) jacket she's wearing. Yes, in June. SHIELD tech is useful, and she uses it to bypass the locks on the door. "Let's go. Lunair, might be best if you leave that box here."

<Labratory isn't on this floor.> one of the men says, but his tone lends one to believe it's more of a suggestion then a statement of fact, <It must be. The floor above it is Osborn's office, then it's the roof. Everything below is management and support staff. If it's not there then the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company is sitting behind his big mahogany desk in the middle of a Clean Room. Which I fund unlikely. Look harder.> pause, <Capes have breached the rooftop entrance, brace yourselves.> the men laying out mines and other fun traps finish up the last of them, turning the hall they're in into a deathmaze to navigate, while the other hall is nearing the end of their minor construction. <Got it!> comes an excited voice. <Steel door, mag locks, biometric security interf-> <We're not relying on stealth anymore, blow it.> <Yes sir!> the theif pulls a canister from his waist and immediately begins spraying a thick gooey foam along the door's seal. The rest of his team take up a fan like defensive posture around him, weapons shoulders and red lensed eyes blazing in the darkness.

"Be alert," May warns the other two as they start down into the building. She's got her ICER in hand, and she's ready for just about anything. Top floor, boring. Executive offices, and no signs of anyone here. She doens't give it more than a cursory look, they don't have time to clear the ENTIRE floor, after all. She's pretty confident that they'll know which floor the intruders are on when they get there.

"Lunair?" Mari looks at the box and back to May … she's really not sure when her life got so weird - and that's saying something, given the totem that she bears.

As the door opens, she takes point, her pendant glowing again as the Hawk is replaced by a Rhino. Hey! Thick skin and all. Taking her time, listening carefully, she leads the three of them down - flight by flight, checking each one by carefully opening the door, and getting May and Lunair to cover her. All Mari knows is that there's activity within the building.

Finally making the floor beneath Osborn's office and the door opens.

Heeheeheee, blowing a seal. Ahem. "Hi! Sssh, Armory on the job," She offers to Mari. The box disappears, and she will follow the others in her strange, shimmering armor. Thankfully, she does not mimic Laughing Octopus' tentacles.

<Contact.> comes across the radio and as the door opens to the floor, projectiles lance through it completely, punching clean neat holes through the door, the wall behind it, whatever walls are behind those, and possibly out the other side if they're near the exterior wall. The shots are odd, the weapons making a softer 'vrrm' sound, quiet compared to most weapons, and while there's a flash of glinting red as the projectiles pass, they're not energy weapons either, as there's no residual heat signatures. Just clean neat holes as if they were precision cut in a machine shop. Which is kinda terrifying. The firing doesn't stop until there's less door then there is holes, the metal creaking and slowly folding in on it's weaker points like aluminum foil. A pause comes from the soldiers, waiting to see if anything survived the deluge, <They're on our side. We'll buy you time.> the group that laid the mines says into the radios as the other group finishes their work, <Copy.>. That word is followed by a muffled WHUMP as the lab door is blown neatly off it's hinges.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the phones. Lunair pauses, noticing those weapons. "Um. Those're Atlantean style weapons. What the hell? Is that Aquadude selling stuff?" Lunair seems baffled. "Well, whatever. Don't get hit if you can help it. Those things are made to kill people, who live in the OCEAN. Which is where biology gets hardcore, outside of an uncleaned dorm room." She never stands in front of the door for this reason.

"Seriously hardcore. It's like futuretech. So um, yeah." Lunair pauses, peeking around once the deluge stops, to throw in a flashbang. "Oh, close your eyes and ears."

Good thing Mari was channeling, that could have gone a lot more badly. Despite her precautions, and not standing directly in the doorway, she still gets hit by some of the flying … water bullets? Thrown backwards the spirit channeler slams into a wall, causing cracks to spider out around her. "Ooooof" she manages to exclaim, closing her eyes just as the flashbang goes off.

May almost manages to get clear of the projectiles lancing through the door. Almost. One of the solidified water projectiles catches her arm, going clean through the reinforced sleeve of her jacket and her arm like both were made of tissue paper. She somehow manages to not yelp in pain and stays well out of the way as Lunair throws that flashbang. She's hastily trying to put a temporary binding on her arm. Damnit this hurts. So does that mean the people breaking in are Atlantean? That seems… really odd.

The men at the lab pour through the doorway, a pair remaining outside of it to guard while three head inside, moving through the room with purpose, trying to find their target, <It's less organized then you'd think sir, and bigger, but we're in. Search underway.> the other team sounds off, <There's a chance we got them sir, th-> then the radio is full of the sound of cursing and static as the flashbang zeros out the mic's decible range with a soft popping crackle. Only one of the men managed to trigger his goggles setting in time as he heard the 'tink tink' of the thrown grenade, the others simply turn away from the door with their faces while they lay down a hail of unaimed random fire in the direction the flashbang was tossed, trying to buy enough time for their eyes to readjust.

Oh boy. Okay, Agent May getting hurt like that is no go. "Hold still a sec." Time for power armored Agent May. She resembles a Pacific Rim mech more than Iron Man. "I don't know why, but you remind me of someone who would TOTALLY kick a Godzilla in a face. Anyway, that won't keep you totally safe but it might spare most of your body," She remarks. Lunair is sensible. Plus, there's propulsion. Perhaps Lunair just wants to see a flying Agent May own people Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style. There's still all the weapons May has and needs. Liefield, eat your heart out.

Thankfully, everyone still has functioning spines and feat. "HI! PREPARE TO DIE HORRIBLY! MOST OF YOU!" Lunair barrels in just after her flashbang and merrily takes out a pulse rifle. She's gunning for their weapons first.

It takes Mari time to pick herself up and shake the shock off, letting her see what's happening in the corridor at least. The fact that her ears are ringing from the 'bang', she can live with for the moment. She would have helped May with that bandage, but Lunair go there first, instead the pendant glows and the outlines of a Rhino and Puma appear. Fast and Tough.

As Lunair barrels into the frey, Mari does too, nails lengthening and hardening into claws that swipes at the gunman nearest her. Claw Rip Shred.

Pepper Potts takes a quick breath and follows Lunair's and Mari's leads, charging after them, and… WHOA, finding the propulsion to be rather very fast. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, huh? We can do that. Anyone that Lunair doesn't shoot at May is attacking with extreme prejudice. What? They put a HOLE. In her jacket. And her arm. It hurts like hell and she's taking it out on these morons.

The theives scatter as Vixen lands among them, separating and turning to face the threat close at hand. Making them easy targets for Lunair to single out. Bad news is, gunless and weaponless are two entirely different things. As two of them lose their guns to pulse rifle fire, they raise their arms and point their wrists are Vixen, harpoon like barbs are fired her direction in rapid succession, the poisoned titanium tipped weapons designed to peirce the armored flesh of creatures far tougher then rhinos. The good news is that they're all still half blind, making their aim /really/ bad. Still, the wall behind and near Vixen is suddenly sprouting two dozen tiny quivering dart shafts.

May's hurteling Kung-Fury into the midst of the group is, ironically, short lived. While the half blind and half armed theives seem focused on Armory and Vixen, the one man who managed to keep his sight was waiting for a true threat to appear before applying his talents. Oh lucky him. May's shattering of one man's rib cage is all the analysis he needs before he turns and makes a wide waving motion with his hand, like he was trying to flip-snap the wrinkels out of a sheet on a bed, just in May's direction. But… nothing seems to happen. At first. Then there's a faint glint and May can feel something making her continued fighting motions more and more difficult, "Monofiliment netting." the theif explains, "Almost invisible, strong, and if you weren't armored it'd be shredding you like cheddar. I suppose you have to do somethings yourself." and he raises his rifle, pointing it at May's center mass.

Whoever these guys are, they are trained, lethal, and EQUIPPED. This is A.I.M. level tech, stuff HYDRA wishes it could get it's hands on… Like Luthor and Stark hard desided to start outfitting random theiving crews.

Mari will consider how close this was, later. One of the drawbacks of continued use of the totem - or perhaps it just some inate ability of her own - is that the animals spirit can sometimes take over. Make her feral and angry … and carefree (not careless!). In the middle of the gunmen, Mari whirls slashing at anything that gets near - a growl forming deep in her throat as she grabs one barb throwing badguys, letting her claws dig deep and throws him into the others before moving in again, making sure nothing else moves.

Well. It was a decent idea, at least? Lunair seems to be tactical beyond her usual murder everything and level the building, go home to watch TV self. She is in awe of May's kung fu. But there's no time to think on it. "Oooh, yeah, the harpoons…" Well, she at least pays attention. And there's more pressing threats besides her destroying their weapons. She has to concentrate to repair May's armor as the filaments do their thing.

"YOUR FACE IS LIKE CHEDDAR, ASSBUTT." And this is why Lunair is banned from combat dialogue. She disappates the plasma rifle, gets two light sabers and does her best to cut around May, where wires MIGHT be.

Otherwise she just looks totally like the world's most twitchy Star Wars fan.

Melinda May stops moving when the guy explains the monofilament net. Well, except for one thing. She does her imitation of Doc Holliday and fires one of the suit's weapons at him from hip-level at the speed of an Old West gunslinger. "Never waste time explaining, she comments, then while Lunair is reinforcing the armor she considers how to remove the netting quicly without shredding herself on it.

Captain Explains To Much's head snaps back, a hole appearing in the skin tight mask over his face, just beneath his eye. He deposits what looks like a bowl's worth of crimson oatmeal all over the wall behind him before his body topples over backward slowly, the trigger on his weapon never depressed. Armory's Dance Of The Jedi does well for the most part, and it doesn't take to long before May can move somewhat freely again, freely enough at least to figure out where the remaining wires are and carefully tug them free. Wicked weapon that, the implications are somewhat disturbing. As if there were any /good/ news to be had from this entire encounter.

Vixen's catfighty faceclawing ho-down is equally effective. By the time the men with the rifles get their vision back enough to put up a decent resistence there are only two of them left, and while it's slightly more difficult to dodge /and/ face claw, it's not entirely impossible. Both men go down, their suits ripped to shreds, their blood pumping through deep gouging wounds. Of the men that had been there when they started, only one remains alive, claw marks across his face have rendered one of his eyes the same shape as a deflated baloon, and his top lip is split in two and half peeled away.

With his suit torn and peeling back from his face it's easy to see him clearly. He's a black man, young, athletic, clean shaven head and face. "Y-you can n-not schtop ush." his words slurred by his injuries. He raises a shaking hand and stares Vixen in the face as he forces something into his half ruined mouth. His jaw clenches and a grayish fluid leaks out past his lips, followed shortly by his eye widening, pupil dialating, and his body starting to shudder even if his expression doesn't register the motions. It only takes seconds before he's gone still, dead his fellows.

Lunair is oddly unbothered. She's used to this sort of gore and violence. It's no different than washing dishes, taking out trash, eviscerating an enemy. These things happen, yes? "I think that's all of them. you may wish to keep the injured one alive. I do not know," she remarks. "Oh. Nevermind." He croaked. Nevertheless, she's helped free May. Something about this bothers her. "How did they get Atlantean tech?" She seems uneasy. "I don't even…" Sigh. "You guys are okay?" She asks.

Mari hadn't meant to be that effective. Uh, maybe 'effective' isn't the right word here. As the last man falls, she stands there breathing hard, letting the channeling fall away. It will be a while before she can channel again.

Looking down into the young mans face, she stumbles forward trying to stop him … too late, her reactions slowed by exhaustion "No!!"

Standing there looking down at the body, she shudders. Forcing down the emotions that well up, Mari turns to face May and Lunair. "I'm fine. They're all dead." she says in a very flat voice. "Shall we collect their weapons and be gone?"

"Fine." May looks around, and sees nothing of strategic value in this stretch of hallway. She mutters a curse in Mandarin. "They were here to stall us. We need to find out why." She looks down further down the hallway the badguys had been protecting, the power armor's visuals making seeing odd irregularities in the floor ahead easier to spot. "The hall ahead's covered in traps." She can't tell what kind, exactly, but if they're anything like the weapons on these guys…

Something, or rather most of something, slips from the dead man's lips and plops onto his chest. Closer inspection will show it to be a teensy octopus of some kind. Most of one. <Beta squad is down.> comes the slow sad radio transmit. <Do not let their sacrifice be in vain.> comes the cold angry response of their leader, <Yes sir.> they all respond and those in the lab pick up their pace. Outside in their hallway one man stands where the two earlier were building something, and he flips a pair of switches on the constructs side, a soft faint hum whirring to life beneath his hands, <Let them come…> he says in quiet rage.

At the octopus falling out, she pauses. "I saw a movie like this once except the octopus was a lot bigger," Oh dear god. Lunair frowns. "Well, these might help. Do you think we should go further in? But…" Lunair shakes her head. "Sounds like they are preparing. I can throw some explosives or chemicals down that way, but there's the whole collateral damage thing and people get SO upset when I LSD an entire squad of soldiers."

Melinda May looks back at Lunair, then at the wee octo. "That's… really disturbing. And right now, Lunair, I don't care if you LSD an entire squad of soldiers. Do it." She steps out of the way to give the younger woman room to do whatever it is she's about to do.

Mari stares at the teeny octopus and takes it up, wrapping it in a plastic bag that she, somehow, keeps on her body. Starting down the hallway, she stays out of the way assuming Lunair is going to throw those charges. "Make it quick, Armory. Something tells me, we don't have long."

Hopefully, she doesn't put herself in harms way.

"It really is, though we may want to keep it with us if it's a radio. Then again, if it's a tracker… Mmn," Lunair cnosiders it. Deep breath. "Okay. I'll try minimal collateral damage. Here's hoping they aren't entirely sealed up." She thinks, remembering the layout of the hallway. Right. She is going to prepare some glitter and shrapnel charges, and a few hallucinogenic vials to go with it. As if the explosions alone were enough. A portal gun. "I am SUCH a cheater. Mwahaha."

While the cake may be a lie, the load she's about to drop at at the end of the hallway is not.

<Found it!> one of the men calls over the radio, <Evac North West corner of the building now!> their leader calls, adn the men turns to sprint for the door to the lab while one stops to carefully tuck something away inside of an armored case placed on his back. The man outside continues to wait, careful, patient, his thumbs poised. <Anything?> one man asks as they burst out fo the lab, <Not y-> he never finishes the statement as a glowing orange circle appears halfway between him and the other end of the hall and a package drops out of it. It never reaches the floor before detonating.

The funny thing about explosives is that blowing up is kinda what they're supposed to do. Osborn is so going to sue the shit out of someone because Armory's dropped charge goes off, spewing shrapnel and glitter and halucinagens all over hte place. It's the shrapnel that's the worst part, because bits of it travel down the hall, bouncing off of the walls, richocheting… into the surprises left by the Beta squad. Secondary explosions rip through the hall, ball bearings and small twisted bits of razored metal numbering in the thousands pour down the hall in the direction of May and Co., surfing a blast wave of fire. Yup. That's definatly a lawsuit.

"…" Huh. "Well. We should proooooooobably just get OUT of here." Lunair remarks. "Anyone who is trying to straight up kill people like that is serious and bad. Let's gather the tech here and GTFO." Lunar adds.

And yes, depending on directionality, Lunair is willing and able to get the hell out using a window. Or going through a ceiling.

Melinda May ducks away from the shrapnel then can only agree with Lunair. "Yeah. Let's get going." She reaches down and yoinks whatever weaponry the nearest body has that she can remove easily — a pistol or some such — and follows Lunair in getting the heck outta Oscorp.

Mari doesn't need a second invitation, she turns on her heel and begins moving quickly - scooping up whatever weapons she can as she does. She's a feeling someone will want to examine these, along with that Octo she's carrying.

She'll channel once last time to get out.

And really, that's a shame. The leaving anyway. Because in leaving they'll miss the inevitable consequences of Lunair's actions. Namely how the one thief who stayed behind to guard his team's back as they escaped out of the North West corner window, was struck by several bits of tiny shrapnel coated in powerful mind altering narcotics. And how this poor fellow, while beginning to bleed out, began suffering the worst acid trip in history, made even /worse/ by the fact that he was the one manning a hard water mounted cannon weapon. A weapon that is /very/ very good at turning imaginary spider armies into paste. Also buildings.

As the women exit the building fleeing the /very/ determined theives, they are witness to fist sized bolts of hard water flashing throuh the exterior walls of OzCorp's R&D building. They watch, safely from their rooftop, as the the corner of the building they were on burns it's masonry crumbling and collapsing down in chunks to the sidewalk below as the bombs aftermath destabalized portions of the wall. They bear witness to the opposite corner of the building becoming the epicenter from which a series of maddened unaimed shots of some heavy weapon punch holes in the building itself, looking for all the world like the building was trying to shoot out pocupine spines of it's own until it's integrity fails as well and that corner of the building groans, twists, and crumples in on itself, sliding slowly downward like a mud slide made of billion dollar facility.

In the aftermath there is silence and most of a building remaining standing in a slowly spreading dust cloud as it's internal fire systems spray water in an attempt to fight a growing blaze. In short… this did not go well for anyone.

In the Hudson river, far beneath the waves, a soaking wet man in black skin tight armor with red lensed goggles takes a knee on the steel floor of the submersible vehicle, his hand held upwards. An armored hand reaches down to pluck the case up and setting it on a counter so he can spin it around and open it carefully. Inside are four arrowhead shaped 'bullets', more like spear tips, their golden gleam at odds with their inherent toughness, and the very fine silvery glint at the weapons edges barely visible. "Well done." says the metalic voice from inside the helmet, "The lost of Beta Squad was not in vain, we recovered the rounds." an armored fingertip reaches down, slowly running over the spearheads and the flakey dried blood that's still caked on them, "These almost killed him last time." that statement is more whispered then spoken. He turns then, closing the case with a snap, "Get this to the Weaponer, have him look over them and see if he agrees with my theories of how best to adapt them." the case is held out to the soldier, who stands and salutes, his fist striking his chest with a wet thud, "As you wish, Black Manta."

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