February 25, 2019:
Deadshot, Jigsaw and Cold go after Mad Dog. The results are explosive.
Metropolis
A slummy street in New York. A slummy street in Metropolis.
Characters
NPCs: Mad Dog
Mentions: Superman
Plot:
Mood Music: [*\# None.]
Fade In…
"I have got one, not sure if Floyd knows who I really am yetor not, could just think I am an amoral merc from our other meetings." He lets out a sigh as he reaches into his coat to pull out his thick ballistic mask, sliding it over his face the modulater inside clicking as soon as it comes to a rest transforming his voice into a much more sinister timbre. He lets out a sigh "Not that it really matters now I guess. Fir a bunch of masked people and the like you all seem eager to give away everyones identities and get caught on camera doing this sort of shit asmuch as possible." He pauses for a second "Or not pointing fingers here, but where those stupid little masks that only cover the bridge of your nose and your eyes. May as well just wear some sunnies for all the good it does you."
He is not dressed in his suit, instead he is in full tactical gear. A UMP.45 slung and swinging slightly by his hip and a pistol holstered across his chest in a crossdraw holster. He speaks lowly for a moment his mask letting out an almost impercepitble click as he swaps to a mic channel. "Cerberus, check." The reply is swift and heard only on his comm channel. "Styx, Check. Persephone, check."
*
"It would help if people didn't use their surnames to refer to each other…or people hadn't been screaming your name as much as they had mine." The voice announces Deadshot's arrival as much as his own mask's system amplifies his words. This was a meeting, all on good terms certainly, but it could just as easily be a trap. Floyd Lawton had dealt with enough to be paranoid, but he'd just as likely be making a show of force to be arriving in his own gear.
The armored suit, the rifle across his chest and the other firearms strapped to his form…then there was that mask. No mistaking Deadshot for anyone who knew the reputation of the assassin.
Of course, Billy's men probably clocked him, he wasn't -that- stealthy that he'd evaded them all and he'd seemingly just waited for the right moment to walk through the door. These people were the sort that being a little too suprising could easily result in accidental gunfights. Not the best way to start off a partnership!
*
"Oh, honey. You're cute when you're flustered and angry." She pokes at the hound from hell, her lips pouty in mock empathy. Chuckling, she gives a roll of her shoulders. "I don't care who knows who I am. I'm proud of my work. I'm damn good at it." She fixes her hood briefly before giving a tightening of her gloves with a flexing of her fingers. The voice gave him away, and gazing through her thin silver visors, the eyes Deadshot evenly. "Yeah, yeah, no secret what party we're having and who's attending, hmm? I'm not a girl to waste time, so cutting to the chase. Mad Dog. I know where to find him and I have interest in putting him down for good. Granted, you two probably have a more personal reason, but I want in." Watching both, she studies each in turn. "I've seen you both in action and I think we could make something sweet of this. One shot or a few jobs down the road, I'm open to suggestions. First thing's first, though? Mad Dog. Dead."
*
"Yeah well I am proud of my work as well, I just enjoy being able to go out and experience the fruits of my labour without a SWAT team arriving moments later. Or the tights and cape brigade for that matter." He looks towards her before looking towards Floyd as he appears. "I used to enjoy flying under the radar, letting others a bit higher profile draw the heat away from me. Those were good times." He drawls before setting his shoulders as the meeting truly begins. He shrugs his shoulders as he considers it, it is a very quick consideration. "Maddog is one man, hell even if he has himself some hired help or some other wannabe warlords he shouldn't be too hard to us to deal with on our terms. Finding him was always going to be the hard part. But with that out of the way…" He shrugs once more "Well all three of us are overkill, but hell there is no kill like it."
*
There's always another Mad Dog to put down, Floyd knew that far too well…but this one did have a personal grudge against him, and he'd ruined the gift he'd bought for Zoey. Those alone were reasons enough for him to want the man six feet under. "I can kill him," Deadshot speaks, he states it as if it were fact and yet there was no missing the slight pause that followed before he continues. "But his sights are on me. He's looking for me and probably waiting for me to start pulling on threads. I'd get him, but it could be…messier than I'd like." He'd only -just- gotten most of the agencies off his back after all, or at least flown low enough to have their attention mostly elsewhere. He didn't need a 'Deadshot Taskforce' getting a sudden surge in manpower from one bloody street war.
"He'll come at me, but you two coming at him is more sideways than he'd expect. You were there, but he's the sort to get tunnel vision if he thinks he's got me." A breath, a consideration of his own and he tilts his head but his expression remains hidden beneath the mask. "Trial run then. We deal with this? We can talk about other work. I haven't really been one for the team thing."
*
"Honestly, we just get it done and see how we flow. Beaut has his crew, I've never had one, and…you don't strike me as someone that likes working with others, 'Shot." Cold murmurs, crossing her arms smoothly across her chest. "He's in Metropolis. Was slicking around at a low-run bar a few nights back. Girls there said he had a place a few blocks down from it. Shithole. He didn't tip well." She explains, eyeing out and across the skyline. "Who's calling the shots?" She then looks at the pair, waiting. "I know my plans but, well…Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. Yowza."
*
"I will. Neither of you are used to working with a team, and my team have faith in me." He looks between the other two, his expression unreadable through the pitch black of his mask, the modulator hiding much of the emotion and inflection in his voice. "My crew wouldn't follow you frosty, they might follow Deadshot if I said he was lead. But they wouldn't trust him." He turns slightly to look across the way raising his hand before lowering it slightly, before indicating towards the street. "But we all have say and sway on the plan, it is just in the execuition that there has to be a firm voice. After this we will see, once trust has been built…well it will depend on the job. And what is going on."
*
Decisions had to be made. Lena wasn't wrong with her assessment, but at least Billy was also talking sense. "You follow my lead for now." He says simply, firm and calm. It wasn't demanding, merely said calm as if it were reasonable suggestion or outright fact. "Closest to the barrel is going to get me a good look at him and the situation. But we keep in contact and we move as the situation evolves. He'll want to gloat if he thinks he has me dead to rights."
A breath, the man looks between the pair with the glowing red 'eye' of his mask. "Don't miss."
*
"And here we go." She turns away from the pair, tossing up her fingers. "See you there." The first act as a group is to split up. Baby steps, always baby steps.
Location provided, the trio meet up in yet another slum in a different city. A darker side of Metropolis was always odd to see given that its savior was bright and larger than life. Thankfully, he wasn't involved in this union of villiany. Resting with her back against the wall of an ally, Cold looks over her gun, eyeing down its sights and then flicking it out before pulling it back and giving the core on last tuning. "He's two buildings down in that rat's nest moonlighting as a motel. Room 202. Boozed up apparently. His gal-pal is long gone." She blinks behind her visor and eyes the pair once more. "Door's unlocked. Sadly, I didn't get to do that part. No secury on site. Cash only joint. Drug deal in room 201. Room 203 is empty for now." A glance around, she moves her lips in silent counting. "For about…20 more minutes, anyway."
*
Moving away from the meeting his team slowly saunter out of the buildings and from the surrounding alleyways until they are moving in a small tight group down the footpath. They are all dressed similiarly, but passing through another alley they reamerge dressed in civilian clothes before they split into two groups and part ways with a brief two finger salute. There isn't a lot of conversation at least not yet and it is not long until they are all out of sight of the others that attended the meeting.
Billy arrives in Metropolis in style, cruising through the side street in style windows of his Rolls open designer sunglasses reflecting the dim sunlight and perfectly styled hair blowing slightly in the breeze. Now all he has to do is drop the car off at the hotel swap into the van that is lingering a few cars back in traffic and then he can be on his way to the new meeting point.
He steps out of the black GMC van in the slum of yet another city, but at least it isn't Gotham he was almost positive that is where this Dog was going to crawl away too. He walks down the alley to meet with Lena, three of his men fanned out and trailing behind him. "Well that seems like a trap. He knows he pissed off at least a couple of people that you really don't want to piss off. And now he runs into a shithole and gets drunk off his ass where anyone could walk in and cap him? Don't smell right to me, I mean guy was never to bright but this is stupid." He looks up towards the roof. "Could have his room wired and have switched when no one was looking. Could Rappel in, flashbang down and see what we get."
*
Floyd? He'd gone somewhere in the middle. His transportation into town had been via the train, but at least he'd sprung for a decent coach. It was a fine line to tread, trying to leave enough of a trail to bait Mad Dog but not enough to draw him out prematurely, but eventually he'd arrived at the meetup and retrieved his gear. Wearing all but his mask for the moment, the man checks each of his firearms in turn while the others talk. "Agreed," Floyd speaks, frowning a little as he watches the direction of the building. "More likely he's watching the building. Always had a 'poor man's' imitation of my own methods. It's unlikely he'll want a straight fight. More likely he's in a perch in a spot he can watch the apartment and the approach.
Exhaling a breath, the man attempts to focus his attention outwards. See the sightlines, feel the movement…and detect the perfect spot to fire from.
*
"What if you boys are too paranoid? I get being cautious, but where's the fun in that?" Lena inquires, brow quickling as she sets her gun back onto its maglock on her thigh. Hands up, palms open, she waves them briefly. "Right, I'm not the one in charge. Granted, I'm not against going to the front door and whoring it up for the sake of seeing if anyone's home. Gal-pal said he was there just awhile ago. Though, a hour is a /long/ time for you folks and your trigger fingers." She muses, both index fingers hooking and squeezing off imaginary guns. "So, plan. I'll…follow. If it goes to shit, well, we forget the plan."
*
"The fun is in being alive to enjoy having fun again." Billy shakes his head as he looks towards the building again his head swivelling slightly at Floyds words looking for perches. Not that he can see anything just yet, that is sort of the thing with alleys they hide you from the surrounding world. He looks around one more time. "Alright Styx, take Persephone and get up into a vantage point. Be careful if Floyd is on the money he may be waiting for us, and if he figures we are on to him his trigger finger might get itchy." He nods to his men and two of them peel off to gain altitude while the other heads back towards the Van. "Alright that leaves us three to make the approach. But if he is here waiting for us to come for him and he is actually inside he will probably be expecting us to come in from the roof. So I think we go through the unoccupied room, breach into his room. Take him out and go from there. So we have two on that, one coming down the fire escape and my man in the Van will watch the street access."
*
"This is too wrong," Floyd mutters under his breath. There were no taller buildings, but a sniper looking to kill rather than overwatch could easily be back and level with the room tucked away. Add to that the interferance in there and it was all a little too…well…wrong. "Keep your eyes open," he mutters. Already the plan had been switched out from beneath him with barely a breath, from trapping the target to brute-forcing a potential trap set for them. "This guy is a psychopath, but that doesn't mean he's stupid. Or above just trying to blow us all up."
He didn't like this, any of it. But when was the last time he really had a 'team' job he liked?
*
So far so good? Each had their plans, their ideas. The follow of Lawton's lead was already out of hands once Russo's boy's went into action. If there was anything Russo had, it was numbers. Lena was silent, watching after the pair as they tense and deal with the bad juju this situation had to offer. She agreed, however, and didn't move until given a job to do.
*
"Well alright, we don't really have the option of sitting and waiting. Only so long until someone gets on our tail, or at least on one of our tails. Or someone reports a bunch of suspicious guys staking out a hotel, that will happen even in a crappy place like this." He shakes his head as he looks towards the building again, not liking the time ticking by but not really having any option. "Yeah I don't like it either, but I don't have a better plan right now. I am all ears though if you have something better. Otherwise we should move and put this dog down." He pauses for a moment. "I think if the plan goes as is, myself and Cold should breach from inside while Floyd takes the roof. Afterall if he is hiding somewhere or makes a run for it, hard to outrun one of those bullets."
*
"Might have less than that," Lawton comments, giving a little frown and gesturing to the eyepiece of his mask. "Son of a bitch is sending messages. Either he knows we're here or he's trying to rattle the cage." Still, he was looking for Floyd and the man was usually known for working alone, hopefully that would give him an advantage. "Be ready, and don't go getting yourselves blown up." With that, the assassin exhales a breath and checks the bolt on his carbine before he moves towards the stairwell, weapon raised and senses sweeping for signs of a trap.
*
Lena breathes in, and out. Steady now, she eyes toward the masked Russo as Lawton makes his way up and along the iron steps that function as a fire escape. The quality wasn't great, and for the less sure footed, it could be dangerous. So far it's clear to his eye, not a pulse or sudden spasm of movement to be found. People are yelling about connections, drugs, or someone below on the first floor demanding their damn coffee be made black. A mug shatters, a man screams.
On the second floor the black-out area is still in affect, causing a pitch like aura to surround the room in question. The hallway is clear. Cold takes a moment and shifts up. "New plan," she suggests. "Shot is taking the direct approach and more feet in that space is asking for a shoot-up. I, for one, like my blood to stay where it belongs. I vote we take the room above. Freeze downward, crash the party."
*
"Room above clear? We know the one beside him is at least for the next few minutes. And we don't exactly want to give the game away by wrestling with a couple of annoying civies as we prepare to breach." Billy pauses inside the building, looking directly into Lena's face before he turns to look up and down the corridor to see if anyone is present and hiding in the run down building. Not that he could blame them for hiding right now, he looks like the modern grim reaper and Lena has a future looking gun and slim fitting armour. Everyone knows what that means these days.
*
"Make a move," Deadshot speaks back simply over the coms as he climbs the stairs before emerging into the hallway, weapon still raised and sweeping. It was only half baiting really. If he got a shot on Mad Dog? he'd be taking it. Anything less than that would simply be too unbelievable. "You've got about 30 seconds at most." Even behind the mask, his sharp senses were on high alert, he could feel the steady beat of his heart in his chest and the even breathes he was taking. Calm, calmer than most could be in this situation, but not careless.
*
"Making a call." Lena decides, slipping up to the higher level, counting paces and her footing along the way. Gun up and at the ready, the contraption had yet to glow or hiss out any chill, it was simply ready. Taking knee at the door in question, she listens in, eyes shut and feeling its vibrations. A slip of the hand and pick of the lock, the room gives and allows them inside. Instantly, it hits them, the smell of rot and filth. The room was 'empty' persay, of anything living at least, but that didn't account for the unmistakable odor or death present, somewhere. The girl's nose wrinkles up as she shakes her head, tossing the scent away from her thoughts before eyeing the floor and leveling her gun downward. Her lips move again, mouthing numbers and shaping the upper end of the 20s.
Below, Floyd's sweeps bring him nothing as of yet. The dark patch grows, swelling around him and his receptors. The red of his gaze flickers like a shutter, maddening to the eye, its readings beginning to fail the closer and closer he comes to the room emitting it. Closer, closer still, there's not a sound to be heard. Even the insanity of the building itself starts to muffle out and go still.
"BOSS!" Styx cries out in Billy's ear. "The floor blow is live-wired! Repeat! It's going to blow!"
*
"Out, out now. Place is wired get the hell out, now!" Billy leans forward slightly and grabs Lena by the shoulder wrenching her backwards away from their planned breaching point and towards the door. "Come on, run!" He pushes her ahead of himself for a few more steps before his hands lower to start running himself, stairs are going to be too slow and it would be a miracle if this place had elevators at all let alone one that works well. He reaches down to his hip unspooling a length of rope already hooked up with caribiners and a hook "Go for the fucking window, and grab on to me! This is going to hurt!"
*
Well, they'd expected a trap. Floyd had even figured on explosives and mentioned as such. That didn't mean they'd suck any less. Mad Dog was exactly as his namesake suggests, perhaps things getting this messy were merely unavoidable. While he wasn't in the room with Billy? His own plan was almost certainly the same. Backing away towards the window and snapping around to shatter the glass. His repelling though? It was going to be a little less traditional. Moving inverted and with his weapon raised.
It it were him? He'd be waiting for someone to come out the window and fire upon them, so Deadshot had to be ready to fire back at his imitator.
*
"Always have to save your ass…" She grumbles and rushes off with Billy. Shaking her head, she snags around his waist and crashes into the window along with him. Instead of grips and hooks, she slips her gun down, firing off a blast and allowing the pair to slide down toward the street level. Grinding down at the concrete below, she levels her weapon up just in time to see a brilliant flash crack off and into the narrow passage.
"Never alone anymore, are you, Lawton?!" Dog yells out, indeed waiting for the trio with something more annoying than lethal. It was the game, after all, a brilliant one that causes the girl to fumble back briefly.
She was use to light, the vibrant display her gun set off was enough for her own eye gear to be protective of it. Hitching up, she grits her teeth and actually smiles. "At your 12, boys! Give'im hell!"
*
Billy lets out a startled cry as he slips down the roughly made snow/ice slide, not expecting that to be how this goes. But with him wearing all of his geat at least the ice didn't cut him to ribbons. He looks up towards the window at the voice, right as the brilliant bright flash throws all the surrounding area into a stark relief. Good thing he wears his mask complete with flash dampeners and select sound filters on jobs like this. He rotates his hips slightly flinging his HK417 on his sling into his waiting hands, he raises it to his shoulder and squeezes the trigger gently in a practised sounding series of shots. He doesn't take his eyes off the target as he calls out to Lena "You want to give us some cover! Floyd you have a shot?!"
*
As easy as he often made it seem when he was richocheting bullets at impossible angles, it wasn't always possible to shoot indirectly. The walls needed to be right, the bullets needed to be right and the moment as well. Already he was raising his rifle to squeeze on the trigger and try a little driving fire, force Mad Dog into a better position for him to shoot at properly…then Billy's gun roars to life and begins to do the job for him.
Right. Team.
He doesn't answer just yet, after all, the retort of his rifle would be answer enough. Instead the man exhales, gently applies pressure to the begining of the trigger-pull and waits. He'd only need one moment, then he'd put every damn round in the magazine into Mad Dog if he got the chance.
*
"On it!" Lena fires off, that light sending a crackling collection of ice and snow to flutter around their area. A sheet turns into a wall and after the bullets fire off down the passage way, she moves in a quick side step after Russo, setting up their cover for any returning fire. The joke about Deadshot not working alone still lingers in Mad Dog's mind, but the fact that his companions were not so useless was somewhat of a surprise. That, and the flashbang had done nothing. Perhaps he should have stuck to his original plan.
In a scene that would make Bay giggle with pride, the building beside them explodes outward, sending bits of rubble scattering and a ploom of smoke to rush up and spread into the sky. Russo's bullets had done their job, cowing the Dog into a better position, all while fire and chaos light behind the 'flying' Lawton, noise rippling off in time for a bullet to exit its barrel, digging straight between the eyes of one Mad Dog.
The man that had been waiting for them slumps back onto the ground as Cold rolls up a dome like barrier to shield Russo and herself from the blast.
*
"Fuck me!" Billy squats down in suprise and shock as the explosion rips through the building. Even as Lena moves to create a barrier between them and the massive shower of falling debris his hand comes to rest on her shoulder as though he was about to pull her to ground. But in the end he doesn't that barrier of thick glacial ice being more valuable than getting just a little bit lower. "JESUS H FUCKING CHRIST. I was hoping they would at least be directional, wasn't expecting him to level a fucking building!"
He stands slowly inside the dome as best as he is able to, listening to the telltale whistle of any heavy shrapnel still flying through the air before he fires his gun into the ice before driving into it with the butt of his rifle. "We need to get out of here, something like that might even get the man of steels attention."
*
"Mad son of a bitch," Floyd mutters as he flips around in his rappelling and decends the rest of the way right-way-up. Touching down, he flicks the release on his gear and lets the line go before he starts to turn towards the alleyway and beat feet to disappear. "Split up," he speaks simply over the commlink. "Moving together is too easy to spot and too noticable for the boyscout. We'll RV at the some spot as the meeting."
He doesn't even bother to try and get back up there and make sure Dog was dead. Either the others would doubletap him, or he'd have to hope the headshot and a collapsing building floor would make sure. It was the most he could deal with right now.
*
How many people died that night? How many that were unintended? Mad Dog was dead, entry wound still tendrilling with smoke. People were leaving their buildings, eyes up and wondering if there was some other form of attack on their fair city. Had the Man of Steel heard it? Would he respond? Leaving was the right idea and that much was for sure.
Lena exhales and eyes Billy's attempt to get them out. "Easy, handsome." Twitching as bullets dig in and crack at the ice, she switches gears on her gun and fires once more. A point shatters, and nodding his way, she motions for him to join her. One kick, two, the dome crashes down in a shimmering display. "Job done. Fun times." Gun down, she turns and starts bolting.
*
"Thats one way of doing it I suppose." Billy shakes his head as he quickly strips out of his gear leaving it in a pile in the middle of the shattered dome, pulling the pin on one of his incendiary grenades and jogging again. Down the alleyway from behind a bin he pulls out a battered looking military style gearbag, pulling out an even more ragged looking marine jacket and a set of fatigue style pants. Before the final item in his getaway bag. A bottle of whiskey. He pours a little down the front of his shirt before taking a healthy swig. He starts to stumble down the alleyway, singing quietly to himself as he goes. Just another veteran forgotten on the streets moving away from something that reminded him just a little too much of his old life. His crew know the plan and have their own evac SOP's.