No Mercy

February 06, 2019:

A group of Gothamites, plus the Punisher, investigate a missing persons case in the Narrows. They find far more and far worse than they expected. Language warning. (Emits by Nate).

The Narrows, Gotham

Dark, rundown, bad place even for Gotham.


NPCs: Prime Sentinels


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

The Narrows is one of the worst places in Gotham, which means it is one of the worst places in the world. An area ruined by the Earthquake nine years ago that somehow was forgotten and not condemn, its very existence is proof the city hall is rotten. People come here to disappear or because they really can't afford anything else, even in Gotham.

It is a bad place, and even the Bat-clan has barely made a dent on the crime, because it is not really organized crime. Some of the crazies hide here, but they are -hiding-, so weirdly enough they are not causing trouble. Trouble comes from gangs, drug-traffic and weapon smuggling.

There are a few real shops; they are usually family affaird that pay protection money. Bars, underground casinos, brothels and pawn shops, however, are abundant.

Also, Sentinel Services opened an office a month ago. Their agents move around wearing tactical vests and automatic weapons, so no one gives them trouble. They have also not caused any trouble. The Hill is nearby, and most locals think they go there when they are called, because there are mutants there. They don't, or at least they have not gone yet.

In fact no one has gone in or out the agency in the whole day. At least not through the main door, which is a metal and glass thing, the class opaque and reinforced with crisscrossed wire. There are likely a back door or three, and also an underground garage that is unsafe for use and partially ruined, but still everyone uses. Safety regulations don't apply to the Narrows.

Jason hates the Narrows. He has always hated the Narrows. Even before he became Robin, he didn't like going here. Something about the place just buzzed inside his skull and made him angry. After he became a vigilante, he wound out spending too much time here just to try and keep the pot from boiling over. It was a good place to patrol if you were looking for a quota to fill, but it was a shit place if you really wanted to make any kind of difference in Gotham.

Despite the dislike, the Red Hood was here. His form dancing and running over rooftops. The disappearances had drawn his attention, as well as the installation of this new "Security Firm." Jason knows this wasn't just some security cash cow; this was the start of a new PMC, and it was starting in his Gotham. He is here to look into these missing persons, and check in on so-called Sentinel Services…

Time to go to work.

With a black trenchcoat and the traditional bulletproof vest with a white skull, along with combat pants and boots, the Punisher has a mark; Sentinel Services. The Narrow is one of those places that's basically a no mans lands, so the Battle Van was used to get here. With a Ka-Bar and a solid Glock 17 on his hips with a sawed off Remington behind his trenchcoat on his back, The Punisher is already for close quarters combat.

It's around the time Red Hood is nearing the building over the rooftops that Frank gets into position just around the corner from its' backdoor, and he uses his cornering scope to check the situation. "Almost at the door, Micro." Frank mutters into his transceiver for his partner, updating his status.

There's a drone coming into position overhead, with Microchip controlling it for an eagle eye view, giving the Punisher additional field support.

The muffled thump of a body slamming into concrete and mortar wasn't really audible past the confines of the alley in which Cassandra finds herself. She spent the day hunting down lowlifes and taking care of crime the way that only the violently insane nad so-called vigilantes could actually manage. It was a cold, damp day, the sort of chill that settles deep into the lungs and threatens to stymie the heart and fill the throat. In other words, a Gotham winter evening. She'd spent half the day breathing smog-filled mist.

The result is that Black Bat leaves a sort of trail behind her, the bodies strewn across the way linking her activities of the entire day to one another for those who recognize her handiwork. Today, Cass has been working at a bit of a disadvantage. She's been practicing Martial styles she doesn't ordinarily use. She's no worse for the wear because of it, just a little sweatier and slightly out of breath.

Tonight, Cassandra doesn't take the rooftops. She's moving through the alley ways, another diminutive figure among the shadows. She's been observing the wide berth people in the area give to the Sentinel Services building and she doesn't like it one bit. It was as good a night as any to finally scope the place out and track the comings and goings of the people working there. Of which there have been none.

It'll be a long night.

Huntress has her little tiny nighttime binoculars over her eyes like a peeper and is peering over the area, especially over the rooftops where her vigilante pals often party. She zooms in with a fancy bat-technology she never gave back to Batgirl and spots a man in red dashing across the shingles, then gives the alleyway a once over. She is behind a parked car that has no wheels, it's just there on blocks, the hubcaps, wheels, fenders, tires, engine, and chrome pieces all stolen in turn. She raps her fingers on the roof of the car as she lowers her fancy binoculars and seems impatient. Tapping her bat-audio bat-transmittor she never gave back to Batman or Batgirl, she says, "Any of you in the area of the Narrows?" she broadcasts to them, "I'm watching Pothole Street..and I don't see shit," she tells everyone helpfully.

Some people didn't quite look so grand scale as others, trying to make a difference that might change a rotten city. Sometimes it was simply more direct than that: somewhere between personal and professional. Had he been hired to find out what was going on? Had one of the victims been a buddy from his time in the military before the 'friction' of it had driven him to a more 'private practice'? Well, noone was going to be asking Deadshot anytime soon.

Dressed in his own long coat worn currently over his suit, the man's mask was off for the time being, but in Gotham that probably made him -less- recognizable. More people knew Deadshot than 'Floyd Lawton' after all. Seemingly empty handed, his path walking the street had him heading in the direction of Sentinel Services.

This time of the evening, just after sunset, the Narrows stands dark and cold. The weather in Gotham is usually horrible, so of course it is icy damp. Criminals being a cowardly lot, they are staying home because it looks like a pint-sized maniac in a bat suit is stalking the gangs and the pushers. Yes, they have learned Black Bat is best avoided. Those she got were the dumber ones.

Meanwhile Micro leads Frank to a steel door by an alleyway. Sentinel Services backdoor. It has a mechanical lock, since an electronic one wouldn't last an hour. An obvious security camera would last even less. But they have a well-hidden one in the upper corner of the opposite building.

Before the Punisher can come with a plan to neutralize the camera or open the door, it opens. Two men step out. One is about 30, clear-cut, linebacker built. The other is smaller, slim and older, with a mop of unruly grey hair, but he carries well. Both wear long black coats, cargo pants and combat boots. They look around warily.

Red Hood peers down from his rooftop perch, watching the Sentinel Security building curiously. He watches the door open and marks the two walking out of it. People typically do not walk so brazenly through the streets of the Narrows without a very good reason. He furrows his brow beneath his helmet. His transmitter catches the Huntress's message, but he doesn't respond right away.

Meanwhile, it looks like it's time for the Punisher to have some fun. Pulling out the shotgun from his back, he brazenly walks right out into the open in the alley where the two are, the shotgun idle in his hands. The infamous white skull under the black trenchcoat should be all they need to recognize him, "Evenin', boys. I'd like a word with you."

Plan B it is.

Shotgun. Cassandra is at the corner of the building, watching as the men emerge into the alley and are confronted by a dantinbg figure. Frank Castle is recognizable primarily by the emblem on his chest and the raw terror it evokes, but Cassandra feels little of that. Right now, he's about to become an active shooter right outside the Sentinel Services center. Brown eyes narrow slightly as they track the progress of the Punisher allong the alley way to that backdoor. Cassandra takes a deep breath.

Of all the people present Frank is the most likely to notice the black clad woman coming up behind the Sentinel Services men. There's no reason to hesitate and no particular room for error. Instead, Cass launches into action. A smooth leaping tackle that will presumably culminate with one of the two men unconscious on the ground. Better unconscious than dead.

Huntress will hear a couple long beeps from the communicator. Cass acknowledged her, but not verbally. Never verbally. At least it's distinctive.

Well…this was going to get a little akward. Whatever relief that Floyd had momentarily found in spotting one of the missing people immediately and apparently unharmed was somewhat ruined by another trenchcoated stranger stepping out of the shadows and pulling a shotgun on the men. Of course he couldn't see the skull from behind, but it didn't really matter anyway. There were no answers yet, but the few friends that Floyd could actually count as friends was not a list he was going to let get smaller without a good reason.

"Put the shotgun down," he speaks calmly, his own coat opened to reveal the Carbine he'd kept on a sling concealed. "Try to turn it on me and I promise I'm quick-…" he begins, but his inhuman senses bring pause for alarm. Movement; Bat movement no less! And she's going equally straight into the attack. "Crap."

Huntress taps her ear a few times with a smirk, thinking she heard Cassandra beep at her, "Uhh correction, the big fat Punisher has a shotgun in the alleyway north of Pothole Street," she mutters into her 'borrowed' bat-communicator.

Huntress crosses the street and heads for the mouth of the alleyway. She stands at the edge, just behind the corner so she can dart her head inside to check the action all sneaky-like.

Huntress taps her ear a few times with a smirk, thinking she heard Cassandra beep at her, "Uhh correction, the big fat Punisher has a shotgun in the alleyway north of Pothole Street," she mutters into her 'borrowed' bat-communicator.

Huntress crosses the street and heads for the mouth of the alleyway. She stands at the edge, just behind the corner so she can dart her head inside to check the action all sneaky-like.

The two men turn to face the Punisher, their expressions stony. "Frank Castle," starts one. "Codename: Punisher," adds the other. "You shouldn't be here, Mr. Castle. Leave now, or the Gotham Police Department will be notified of your presence."

They seem unaware the GCPD rarely comes to the Narrows. It usually requires Commissioner Gordon direct order.

"Floyd Lawton, Codename: Dea…" Then Cassandra drops behind them. And her body-language senses warn her: wrong, all wrong. Those men are wrong. Her kick hits one of the heads and it is like hitting a traffic signal. Hard, painful. The man. Floyd's friend, goes down, but only to a knee. He turns to face the leather-clad girl while pulling a handgun from under the coat. Shooting without hesitation.

The tallest of the men advances on Frank and Floyd. Still a stony, expressionless face. "We are under attack," he drones, reaching with a hand towards Frank's neck as if the other man wasn't armed with a shotgun. Utterly fearless. Or maybe crazy.

"Well then," Jason says with a growl. "This has gone all tits up." He jumps down from his rooftop, frogleaping from fire escapes and balconies. Once he reaches street level, he quick draws one of his own pistols and fires a shot at the man threatening Cassandra. It is not a killing shot, but that man certainly will be missing that kneecap if he ever needs to walk again.

"Frank, what are you doing?" Microchip asks with a hint of amusement underlying the serious question. "Improvising."

The shotguns safety is flicked on, and suddenly it's being used as a club as the other man turns on him. He's dodged down, out of the way, and is bringing the shotgun itself up in a makeshift uppercut just below the jaw, trying to incapacitate the nutbar.
"Always with the weird shit in Gotham." Frank mutters as he goes.

Cassandra levels the first man with a kick, knocking him easily to the ground… Or that is what should have happened. She had visualized the strike and executed that vision perfectly. No one should have been able to take a kick like that without being knocked to the ground. This person's head hardly jerks as they take a knee. Then they whirl on her with a gun. It's a good thing Cass is perceptive. She sees the man turning before she ever saw the weapon and was already ducking left as the Punisher clubbed his gun in order to take on the second man. Bullets strike the wall behind her in a dizzying shower of sparks, tearing new holes through the fabric of her cape as it flutters behind her.

More shots ring out and Cass glances up toward a rooftop. Red Hood earns a nod and she takes the opportunity to launch a second attack, switching targets to join Frank in taking on the second of the Sentinel Services Agents. Then Cass does something strange: In a rough, almost sandpapery voice, scoured by years of disuse she calls out, "They are not human."

That might explain why she goes right for the throat.

And now there was gunfire! If Floyd were a twitchier trigger, Jason's out-of-nowhere shooting might well have ended with a startled man putting a bullet in the back of the Punisher's head by mistake of all things. Wouldn't that be ironic? Thankfully, the killer was a little more professional than that and the drone-voices? They weren't exactly normal.

Of course, that didn't mean he'd lowered the gun, instead he'd shifted to a one handed grip and walked wide to the right, drawing a second handgun from the small of his back under the coat and calmly pointing it towards the direction of other vigilantes and crazed veterans both. Just in case. "What the hell is going on here?" he speaks calmly, voice and face even. Of course, there was every chance that the 'heroes' could just turn around and rush him, but then? At least he'd take one or two of them down before they got him…probably.

PEW PEW! Huntress glances at the action from the mouth of the alleyway. She stalks from her position and advances slowly up on Floyd, careful to creep toward him from behind. She probably could be heard on the concrete if it wasn't for all the noise through the alleyway, and the bullets making the alleyway a crazy place. She stepsteps even closer and raises both of her arms, ready to pounce on him, disarm him or worse! If she can get close enough. She aims both of her wrist-equipped crossbow bolts at him and says, "Drop your guns, twitchy."

The shorter man attempts to track Black Bat movements while shooting. He is very fast, but still misses twice. Then Red Hood shoots him on the knee, staggering him. No curses, no complains. He just switches targets and fires at Jason. Since he was already on one knee, the shoot does not cause him to fall.

A normal human would have fallen, of course. This man, although bleeding, keeps shooting him handgun with only a momentary pause. "Five opponents. Retreat is advisable," he decides, trying to limp towards the metal door. Still open.

The larger man, facing Frank, fails to grab him as he ducks. Then takes a hard blow to his jaw from the shotgun. It should have broken his jaw, but the tall man barely flinches, showing a split lip from the blow. Then he claws at Frank.

Yes, claws. Inch long metal claws just sprouted from his fingertips and he slashes low. If he hits, it will tear through the coat and even some of the armored vest. The impact of Cassandra's body barely unbalances him, and he reaches to grab the girl with his other hand and toss her away. The punch to the throat, however, produces a crunching sound, and the man gurgles something. Perhaps trying to speak and failing. He backpedals to the door quickly.

No one seems eager to responds to Floyd's question, though. Well, maybe Huntress did!

"Cybernetic," the Red Hood calls to the Black Bat. "They could still be partially human."

The pistol is turned on him, and Jason attempts to dive out of the way. The bullet hits his armor on a glancing blow, not allowing it to penetrate, but still leaving a heavy impact. He lands sideways on the ground, drawing a second pistol and fires a few more times at the wounded opponent, figuring Cassandra and the Punisher can take the other one.

Frank was /not/ expecting claws. At all. There's a shout of pain as the specialty vest he wears suddenly has new tear marks, and there's a bit of blood dripping to the ground as Frank dodges out of the way just barely when the Black Bat gets in her licks.
"Got all kinds of Bat-Brats coming out of the works today, huh." The Punisher sarcastically remarks as he gets back to his feet, and suddenly roars as he charges right into the backpedaling man, using the shotgun as leverage. His intention seems to be to ram him directly into a wall and grapple him to subdue his hands.

Probably not the best idea, but those things wrecked his vest. Best to get them out of the game.

Frank barrels into the man whose throat Cassandra had partially crushed and she quickly darts aside. The young Bat watches as the Punisher attempts to slam into the wall and doorway, those grey eyes intense as they study the man from head to toe. Then shortie is starting to shoot up. That won't do. Now that it's one on four she can fford to give him a pretty savage knee to the back of the head at close range. If that odesn't do, a kick to the back iis a solid chaser. She's breathing heavily as she closes, letting out a quiet growl of fury.

"They're *not right*…"

It would be that everyone was ignoring him…and those that weren't were pointing a crossbow at him rather than the clawed cyborg monsters trying to rip her friends faces off…and she'd called him twitchy. Floyd actually glances over his shoulder at the Huntress, seeming to -stare- at her for a second in disbelief. "Really?!" he questions before shaking his head. Then he fires.

The bullet zips through the air, through the fray with impossible accuracy and slams into the pistol held by the second man. It's the sort of shot generally reserved for bad western movies, but it's child's play for Floyd. The second gun? It goes off and might almost look like he was trying to shoot Frank, but that same impossible accuracy has the bullet heading straight between the 'tall' man's eyes.

Huntress blinks at Floyd's brazen shooty attitude, "Cut it out, asshole," she tells him, trying to poke him in the back with one of her wrist firing crossbow bolts, ready to lodge itself into his back, "I said drop it!" she says louder. She tries to pull on his arm to restrain him and/or disrupt his next shot.

The short man loses the gun to Floyd's shoot, then takes Red Hood's two bullets on the chest. One hits the armored coat and causes little damage, but the other puts a bloody hole where the heart should be, and Cassandra's kick makes him falls down, but inside the building. She can see him trying to crawl inside, bleeding profusely and yet showing no pain.

Cassandra can see the lights inside the building going red, and start blinking as a silent alarm gets activated.

Meanwhile Frank goes hand to hand with the largest of the pair, to discover what Cassandra already knows. They are hard, heavy and it looks they are also very strong. Frank is pretty strong, but this guy… it is like trying to tackle down Captain America. The Punisher hits what feels like a brick wall and barely pushes back the man a few inches.

Then a powerful hand falls on his shoulders, and starts pressing, claws digging on the vigilante's flesh for a long second. The bullet to the head makes the man release Frank, it takes a step back, two… then falls on his back, twitching, blood and smoke pouring off the bullet hole on the forehead. Hard to say if he (it?) is dead, but at least looks incapacitated.

Red Hood starts running toward the doorway, narrowing his eyes. "Crap," He growls. "Can't let him call for reinforcements!" He reaches the door, spying the red blink of the silent alarm. "Aaaaaaannnnnd Boned!" He says, dropping the magazine from his pistols and shoving fresh ones in their place. "Hey all masks and non masks, we are going to have company!"

The roar intensifies as the claws dig into his shoulders… but he doesn't stop, blood dripping from the wound there now as well. Frank has an insane pain tolerance, and it's looking like it'll take actual bullets to disable them.

Once Floyd puts a bullet between his eyes though, he immediately turns around, the shotgun unsafetied and aimed right for Floyd. "The fuck are you doing? You're killing your potential leads, moron." Frank squints his eyes at Deadshot, "I thought you were one of the smart mercs. Sure doesn't seem like it."

He seems to be ignoring the Batclanners for now.

It really is insanity for a few moments, and someone trying to throw off his aim while he's aiming -around- the good guys? Well…that could be dangerous if he had felt a little trigger happy. Even so, the second pistol? It's momentarily leveled at Huntress chin with a bent elbow and a frown. "Don't. Someone will get hurt." Then the gun is lowered and he moves to holster them both… and now the Punisher is yelling at him and pointing a shotgun his way. That's probably enough to get most people a little concerned.

"Hard to ask questions if it rips your throat out," he speaks, taking a step towards the crawling man trailing blood and exhaling a low breath despite the crossbow at his back. His army buddy, the very reason he'd turned up, was now dying on the ground with a chest full of Jason's bullets…if he was human anymore to begin with. "Ask your questions in there, of someone sitting behind a bigger desk than the door guards."

Huntress pokes Floyd in the back again, "I seen how you deal with trouble, TriggerHappy. Actually, I'm not sure if I should pat you on the back or cuff your ass," she comments. She watches Floyd take steps toward the bloody man, "He's had it," she explains helpfully, aiming her arm at Floyd more carefully.

The short man, who might once have been one of Floyd's fellow soldiers, is still moving despite a busted kneecap and a bullet on his chest. The backdoor leads to a staircase and then an open area with some desks and office equipment. Screens and terminals, all reddened under the alarm lights.

Micro speaks to Frank through their com device. "I am trying to block the alarm signal, but the system looks like using military encryption. And fast… damn, they are trying to track me, I gotta kill the line." Static.

Besides the crawling, badly injured cyborg the place seems empty. But it also looks much, much larger than a small office space it should be. There are doors in a side leading to more rooms.

And the cyborg is pulling a sub-machine gun from a drawer, shooting at whoever stands by the door.

Red Hood dodges to the side, seeking cover from the barrage of bullets. "Mother fucker!" He yells, just narrowly missing turning into swish cheese. "GRENADE OUT!" He yells, popping a pin on a flashbang and tossing it through the open door. He waits for it to pop before surging through the door quickly to another piece of cover.

"I don't have time for this shit." The Punisher remarks, before he turns and disappears into the doorway. He's already ducking into shadows and cover to disappear from view, and starts to look for a server room or desk jockey to interrogate. Microchip will get back to him when he gets back to him. Meanwhile, Frank was here for a reason.

Plus, Red Hood is making himself a great distraction; and people call /Frank/ overkill.

Well, Floyd wasn't the only person using guns, but he was fairly sure he was about to get an arrow in the back for it. The only difference between his bodycount and both Red's and Franks? He'd been paid for many of his. Well, one had to suppose it was a fair difference in the eyes of the vigilantes. Ducking back from the blast of the flashbang, he lifts the carbine once more and leans it around the corner towards the SMG-firing wounded borg that had once been his friend.

A moment's thought, a calculation, then he squeezes the trigger. Whatever else was going to happen tonight, he'd put the man out of his misery.

Huntress grits her teeth as Floyd betrays her orders again, just like a man. She pictures him with bat-ears as she fires a bolt at Floyd's back like a crazy lady! THWANG WHOOSH! UH OH!

The evil Huntress is attacking Floyd now, reacting out of anger, a part of her which is legendary in all corners. Look out! She stands there like a masochist and waits for him to fall on the ground, ready to kick him or worse. How dare he defy what she said?

The flashbang seems to affect the cyborg's aim. Or maybe it is the blood loss what is getting at him. In any case he misses hitting Jason or Frank, and then Floyd shows up and puts him out of his misery with a bullet through the head.

There is maybe three seconds of silence. Frank sneaks out and finds more rooms. Empty, filled with old furniture, and finally a… butcher room. Or maybe it is a surgery place, there are tools, and metal plates and tanks with odd fluids. Blood stains the tables and the floor, and on two operating tables lie down two fresh corpses. Rough and unkempt men that look to have been vivisected and failed to survive the procedure.

Next morning Micro will confirm them as two of the missing drifters. One a former marine missing a hand. The other a former Chicago policeman kicked out of the force for alcoholism.

Then back to the large area near the backdoor, more armed men burst in the room. Half a dozen,two of them shirtless, showing terrible scars. They carry sub-machine guns and semi-auto, large caliber handguns. "Target acquired: Red Hood. Target acquired: Huntress. Target…" the voices, now sounding mechanical, are lost in the hail of gunfire.

Red Hood stands about to chase after Frank, thinking it might be a better idea to keep the gun wielding freaks in one place…then the cavalry arrives. He gets out a sigh before they open fire on his position. He dives into cover again, this time taking a shot in his arm. He grunts with pain, returning fire with both pistols.

Thunk. Thud. Floyd actually jerks a little and there's a damn arrow sticking out of his jacket. Of course, he was wearing his body armor beneath, but it was still rather annoying. A noise of annoyance and a look of utter disbelief towards the previously lecturing Huntress, he actually lifts a hand to point towards her with a frown. "You are getting on my last nerve," he breathes before lowering his gun and stepping back into cover, despite the wave of gunfire that slams into the cover and fills the area none the less. "You going to shoot them too?" he speaks, jerking his head away from a particularly head-level spray of shrapnel. "Because otherwise I'm waiting to see what solution you have if we stop shooting."

PEW PEW PEWWWWW! The bullets and shrapnel alarm Huntress, "Why don't you shut the f*** up?" she yells at Floyd as she backs up. As she takes steps back, she fires her other wrist bolt at Floyd! THWANG! UH OH! Watch out, those things are sharp!

Reloading, Huntress fires again! THWANG! "Eat it, asshole!" she yells. She reloads and fires again. THWANG THWANG! Finally she finds cover near a garbage bin and frowns frustrated.

This time the cyborgs are not subtle. They come in force, and as Jason's shots fell one of them (and the cyborg takes the whole ammo clip!) another fires a flamethrower from his palm, torching the desk he is using for cover, and two more rush towards Floyd and Helena, guns blazing. The remaining two, perhaps carrying less armor, take cover and take aimed shots.

Oh, okay, so she was insane. If he was in a poorer mood? He actually would have shot her back, and bullets tended to be a bit 'sharper'. But he had a thing about pitying crazy women. The arrow is simply blocked with the butt of his rifle before the man shakes his head. "That's what I thought," he comments aloud, then he rounds the corner and the rifle roars to life. For Deadshot himself, he'd claim to be a normal human far more than a meta, but the way the gun snaps from target to target, each round drilling perfectly between the eyes of each cyborg regardless of recoil or motion? It should probably be impossible.

He'd worry about the fact his jacket made him look like a porcupine thanks to all those arrows later.


Red Hood watches the two of them argue and fight in the middle of a gun fight. He rolls his eyes "Can we be adults?!" He says, this time lobbing a smoke grenade at the cyborgs firing on them. "At least the Punisher knows when to shut up!" Under the cover of smoke, he dives for more cover, desperately attempting to outflank the incoming fire.

Floyd fells one of the charging cyborg, but the second one takes several bullets to the head and keeps coming, skin and flesh falling apart to reveal a metal skull and a red bionic eye. It almost tramples the assassin when one of Huntress bolts pierces his brain through the eye.

Jason's grenade takes out the flame throwing cyborg, and the subsequent explosion set the whole room on fire. The last two cyborgs attempt to retreat, one of them burning. Hard to say if the bullets hit them, but in any case Jason, Floyd and Helena can't stay there. Cassandra has to help them out, really.

Deeper in the complex, Frank is safe from the flames, and escapes with some interesting evidence for Micro to study.

Unsurprisingly the fire department takes forever to come to the Narrows, so whatever else was in the building it gets torched. It is only because the night is so cold and rainy that no other buildings burn.

Further investigations reveal Sentinel Services never had an office in the Narrows. They will open on in downtown in April. Yet some of those cyborgs had Sentinel Services uniforms, badges and weaponry.

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