You Shot Me!

January 18, 2019:

Captain Cold meets Billy the Beaut (and Crew).

New York City


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The job was going like clockwork, it is amazing what a team of professional killers can accomplish after returning from years of practice in their very specific fields of expertise. And Billy Russo, known now on the job as Cerberus only recruits the best. It wasn't even that difficult for a man like him, soldiers in black ops? They are often only one step away, so many of them just need a little push. And if there is one thing he has always been good at it is pushing peoples buttons.

What is a bank to soldiers of their calibre? A vault full of money guarded only by fat overweight people so bored out of their minds they stopped paying attention to what is going on years ago. Honestly the alarms were more of a problem than the people inside, but they had been isolated and killed before his men had ever even set foot in the bank. The phones from the the desks to the managers all rerouted to his techie just in case anyone gets curious.

Cerberus walks calmly through the bank now, his black metallic looking mask obscuring his almost perfect features as he looks over the hostages gathered well clear of the windows bound with simple thick cable ties. He can hear the muted sound of their customized drill making short work of the bank vaults near impenetrable door. Well near impenetrable if you don't have everything planned out to the last detail anyway.

He reaches up to the shoulder of his webbing and activates his radio with a dull click. His voice rasps out from behind his mask cold and distorted by the modulator. "Cerberus, all teams check in."

"Team one, check."

"Two Check."

"Three Check."

This was…unexpected. The girl had taken her time to stay out of Gotham while healing, and a snippet of New York fun was just what she needed. However, since she left Central City, all of her 'fun' had been complicated by the actions of others. For better, or worse, her plans were often derailed and forced to take on another avenue. This was one of those times.

The building was beautiful, and her own check of the systems meant that nothing was overlooked. The guards were down, the systems shut, the people huddled up and kept in place. Ah, and a drill, how darling. This was something to see and scary good. It brought a smile to her dark lips.

Given that they had done the work for her, the girl slips in through her own methods, walking toward the vault with the steady pressure of her boots. Winter coat wrapped around her torso, gloved hands holding to an oddly shaped gun, and the slender slip of silver visors cover her eyes. She looks to the team working the drill, offering him a smirk that dimples her cheek.

"Pretty. Very, very pretty, but…a bit slow for my tastes." She judges, her voice calm with a mixture of apathy. Canting her hooded head to the side, its fur lining brushing against her face and tangling with waves of dark hair.

Cerberus walks slowly among the hostages, waiting for one of them to try and get cute. There is always a hero, even with their hands bound and a crew of impeccably trained killers stalking around them. Someone always has to try. He spots it before it can even get off the ground, a shimmy, a bead of sweat and finally the smallest glint of silver as she tries to work a concealed carry out of her waistband with her bound hands as she lies flat against the ground. The smallest whisper of cloth is the only warning she gets before a cold circle of metal is pressed against the back of her neck. His heavily modifies M4A1 not letting her argue. He presses a knee into the small of her back, working his hand underneath her to work out a small five shot revolver. "Cute, i'll leave it in the tellers area for you." The mask turns his chuckle into a menacing rasp as he turns away.

He checks his watch as he places down the revolver. A minute and a half until they should be through the vault. Another 2 minutes to load up the gold. And then finally a minute of travel to their escape. All of it goes perfect. Until her notices an absence of sound. The drill still whirs, but the familiar bite of drill bit on metal is missing. That just isn't right.

"Cerberus. Check in."

"Team 1, check."

"Team three check."

"It can't ever be easy." He mutters to himself, his rifle snapping to his shoulder in an instant a round already chambered. "Team 1 converge on the vault. Team three, any sign of movement?" He moves quickly through the bank now, as fluid as a snake. A single corner between him and the vault door."

"Nothing out here top, no movement that isn't civilian."

"Thanks, kittens. You did good. Very good. That's why you're not dead." She explains to the two men, stuck in cases of ice, but not solid or run through. They'd be chilly, but it would melt. It was thin enough to break and shatter with a firm enough hit. All else fails, they'll suffer a nasty cold and little more.

The drill rattles in place, whirling in the air but not biting at the metal it was meant to slice through. Pressing up and against the machine, she hums to herself and works her fingers at its dials and touch pads. Her lips move in silence, forming what appear to be words, perhaps, or numbers. She feels it, hears it, and with a couple of heavy 'shunks' the vault is open.

Giving a low whistle, she looks at a time piece's face strapped to the underside of her wrist. "Shaved a couple seconds off. Thanks to you, gents." She'd wink, but with her visor, it'd be hard to tell the expression was even given their way. With a twirl of the handle and a pull, she opens the area and inhales deeply.

"Exciting, isn't it? Don't you just love that aroma?" The last barrier between her and the funds was nothing more than iron bars. A brilliant light blooms in the room along with the hum of her gun's core firing off. Mist rolls out of the vault, and shortly after comes the melodic sound of crystal exploding and skipping across the floor.

He pauses for just a moment all of his senses screaming trying to give him just a seconds warning of what was waiting for him around the corner. Could be any number of things, but with it being as quiet as it has chances are it is not a big meta. Hopefully just one of the damn ninjas that gets around. Or hell faulty comms equipment.

But no he hears it. The low murmer of a female voice, an odd noise and then cold washing out and through the building in a strong almost solid wave. A light tinkling sound that is vaguely familiar to something he has heard before. All of that is something else. Something he has never felt or seen before. Cryo weapon? One of the damn icicles he has seen on the news a few times? Doesn't really matter, he is getting his payday either way.

He takes one final deep breath before he spins around the corner, his rifle tucked firmly into his shoulder trigger finger already pulled to the point of release. His mind processes everything he is seeing in a split second, his frozen men, the vault open ahead of schedule and then of course the figure striding in past the ruptured metal bars like she owns his score.

His finger dances on the trigger, a familiar pattern as he flawlessly fires several rounds directly towards the back of her chest and with a final trigger pull towards the figures head. Some part of his mind detaching itself from the violence, already factoring in the new parameters. Vaults open, bars gone. Factor in the time to get his guys clear, cop response due to the weapons fire, team one already converging on his position. They can make it, should be able to get clear before the cops have more than a couple of vehicles out the front at best.

A thief she was, a soldier she was not. The shots pop out and fly true, two sinking into her back, twisting her body up and urging her to move faster. He'll hear a growl and huff, along with a 'Sonofabitch!' all strung together. Swallowing, the girl glances toward the doorway, her eyes flitting toward the icy-figure she had left behind and then rolling back as the sting of bullets having hammered against her back was not making her day any brighter. Did she miscount?

Another fluttering of her lashes, she shakes her head, resting her gun against her shoulder as her other hand digs into her side bag. It wasn't security, they didn't fire that well, and the sound of the gun was…different, too.

"Hold your fire, hot shot." She calls out, giving him more of a voice to go off of, even as she holds a glass sphere in her hand, its contents swirling, silver and azure.

"Seems we planned to have the same party at the same time. Pity, really, one of us should really go home and change." Getting back onto her feet, she lowers her gun and breathes. "What did you want in here? I'll take what you don't. Fair, you and yours doing most of the work after all." A pause, "And you shot me."

"Well you say we went to the same party at the same time. But it seems to me like you are late to this one." Billy calls out as he waits around the corner, his rifle still held at the ready he can hear the thump of boots as team one closes in on his position quickly. He reaches into his webbing and removes a new magazine, this one ringed with blue tap that he inserts into his rifles magwell. She has to be wearing some armour to be talking like that after those shots. This should take care of that.

"You let me have the gold, and you can take the rest. I don't give a damn about that." He pauses for a moment, waving his hand silently at his men telling them to hold their positions before he slowly and smoothly eases himself around the corner. His rifle barrel seemingly not even swaying with his breath as he keeps it locked on to the woman. "No wrong moves, or you will never make it out of here."

"Freeze, tough guy. I thought we were coming to an understanding." She smirks his way once he rounds the corner to find himself staring down the oddly shaped, triangular barrel of her own firearm. Three small prong fire off, connecting to one another, creating a vibrant light. "You can have the gold. I'm not here for that." She agrees, her shoulders quivering under her fluffy jacket. The shots connected, there was no doubt about that, and the pain they're causing the girl was enough that slight shifts of muscle were enough to send anyone else home crying.

"Gun down," she murmurs smoothly. "Tell your boys to go away. I'm not going to hurt you, even if I really, really want to."

"We are coming to an understanding, but I don't know you and I sure as shit don't trust you." But he does slowly lower the barrel of his gun away from her face, holding it now at a much more neutral position. He looks her over now, immediately noting the small pained movements. Good at least she doesn't have some of that armour that some of the damn hero/villian crowd is known for.

"Cerberus. Team Three, stay on alert. If a young woman tries to leave this bank before we do, shoot to kill. Team 1 come towards the vault, weapons down."

He shrugs his shoulders as he looks towards the obvious cold villian, even if he can't really place her amongst her contemporaries. "Can't really tell them to go away, I ain't a meta and gold is heavy."

"Feelings mutual." She agrees, but once he lowers her weapon, she does the same. Showing him her hand, and the sphere, she motions to slip it back into her bag, in full sight of him, deliberately. She considers his words, listens to him speak, and even as she rolls her eyes behind her visors, she cannot argue with his need of more arms for gold.

"You have a point." She decides, lowering her gun completely and snapping it back onto some holster wrapped around her thigh.

"Your boys did good. Made me almost happy to see something go so smoothly. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside." A step back, and then another, she glances over her shoulder and makes a point to moves toward lock boxes and cash piles, the gold left all alone.

"You're welcome, by the way."

"They are the best, I only work with the best." He keeps his speech straightforward and to the point. "Must have been good to make you get warm and fuzzy inside, guessing that doesn't happen too often." He looks pointedly at his men outside and the shards on the ground before turning this face just an inch as his men approach keeping his body and the barrel of his weapon towards Lena even if it is pointed at the ground. "So what am I supposed to be welcome for? Sure you got us in slightly ahead of schedule, but you also moved up the timetable."

"Styx, see about getting our boys free. The rest of you know what we are here for, stick to the plan. All goes well we can still get out about how we expected to."

The men get to work quickly, gold bars quickly disappearing into reinforced duffle bags clearly designed to handle the weight. They are efficient and silent, almost identical to Cerberus except for their gleaming white face masks. Styx quickly setting to the ice around team two, the butt of his rifle smacking into the thin ice with a meaty crunch.

"Cerberus this is team three, we have a patrol car out front. Probably checking out the shots fired call. Don't look alarmed yet, but once they make the door."

"Roger that team three, I'm on it."

"I didn't make you fire that gun, kitten." Lena clarifies, starting to load up her own bag. She doesn't take too much, only what she can carry. "Let's not forget that now /I/ have to take less due to my injuries." Quid pro quo, kinda…A few more bundles of cash disappear into her bag before her head moves up and around. Watching, listening.

"Shots called, this part of the city…" She hums and moves her lips in silence. "You have about five minutes. Six if traffic is terrible. With your boys, you'll be fine." Closing up her bag, she eyes the two men being twacked out of their icy prison. Offering a smile, she moves to step away from the men, and their leader. "Nice doing business with you, puppo. /Love/ the theme."

Billy looks towards his frozen men "You sorta did Ice Cube." He does a double take when she starts to move away, at least she took cash, bank tracks that should take away some of the heat from him. "Might want to hold up there cold stuff. My boys see you leave and your skull is going to make some nice confetti for the kids outside. Boys and me leave first, you follow on and then we go our separate ways."

The radio call comes in, he mutters to himself before heading towards the front of the bank to try and deal with the inquisitive cops. It really isn't going to be much of a fight, should buy them a few minutes before dispatch gets too curious.

It wasn't much of a fight. The door swings in, the two patrol officers enter, pistols unholstered and at the ready, the empty bank enough to give them pause. The moments hesitation is all he needs. Steel shod gloves slam into an officers temple before he weaves under the officers arm. A sickening crack fills the empty lobby before his grasp closes around the other officers wrist. He is thrown to the ground his arm twisted brutally before a boot smashes his face back into the tile floor.

"All teams it is time to go. Team three stay on scope and cover the exfil. See you at the river for drinks."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. I'm just getting out of your way." She explains, facing him and then hugging the wall with her back. She twitches then, the pressure enough to remind her of the very real, very constant, ache.

The show is lost on her, but she lingers long enough to hear him call out to his team and then move out. As he told her to, she waits, making her own getaway, but counting down minutes for the men to leave. It was a risk, really, making sure he kept to his word.

Regardless, she can't stay in the bank for much longer.

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