Underground Underworld

June 19, 2019:

Grifter gets unexpectedly recruited to clean up a vampire nest.

An Underground Club in Brooklyn


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

The sound of the bass thumping from the converted warehouse was deep enough and powerful enough to create a sensation of a heart beating, heavy and throbbing through the entirety of the building that sat across the refuse choked alley between that building and the storage depot beside it. Vivienne could feel the vibration through the soles of her feet, as she stood looking down from her high vantage. She was clad in her dark, urban armor today, with her cloak around her shoulders. It was entirely impractical, of course, and yet she never seemed to feel the need to leave it behind. Nor did she feel the need to invade the building prematurely. She was content to wait, weight resting lightly on the Spear she held tightly in her strong hand.

Underground clubs seem the same everywhere. That is, bad music, poor acoustics and usually bad drinks, often overpriced. That is what gets him, that the drinks are bad and overpriced. Cole has seen his share of underground clubs, and he is pretty sure he knows all of the Gotham ones. But today his mercenary ways have taken him to New York.

There is something odd in this place, but he has not been able to pin what exactly. 30 years of trusting his guts, however, make him wary. Not that it is obvious, he seems the usual club-goer, maybe a little scruffy than most, but some men make the scruffy look work, and Cole Cash is one of them. He is tall, blonde, fit and manages to look about 30. The cowboy hat and the dark green duster do fit in his locks. Also help to hide his guns and knives. They have not checked him for weapons at the door, which is odd in this kind of place. But now Cole is sure he is not the only armed men in the place.

Tonight he is just scouting, so he heads for the bar to check if the drinks are good. One can only hope.

Vivienne frowned, as she watched the line of partygoers making their way towards the door, eyes narrowed as though she were marking each of them. From the ones who were jostling to get to the front, to those who seemed to be almost reluctant to enter. The cowboy hat was new. perhaps the club kids were starting a new trend. Old West in the New North. Still, nothing immediately piqued her interest, though she felt that subtle call from the Spear. But that was soon back in its compact form and tucked away beneath her cloak, before she stepped off of the roof and seemed to levitate down to the alley, picking her way so carefully through the refuse it was nothing short of a miracle that she did not turn up with nary a scuff or stain on herself. She left the cloak slightly open, allowing her figure to be visible. generally, Vivienne did not care that she was a beautiful woman, but that did not mean that she was not aware that she was one, and that she could use it to her advantage.

The labels of the bottle speak of too much East Europe crappy alcohol. Of course it is very cheap. Cole is an expert in cheap alcoholic drinks and they are not always bad, but he is betting those are.

He still asks for whiskey. Poor quality has never stopped him.

Then he goes hunting. Smiling to all the pretty women, while actually looking for a certain group of people. Some of the partygoers do not seem to have a good time, he notes. But that is not unusual in mafia hangouts. That is not what is making him unease, though.

And here comes Vivienne. Which follows the dress code but does not fit either to his expert eye. Of course she draws Cole attention. But no immediate response. She is not the only beautiful armed woman here. Maybe the owners aren't mafia but ninjas. It wouldn't be the first time.

It would help explain why the whiskey is so bad.

Vivienne, unsurprisingly, somehow managed to make it to the front of the line, beating back a few foul-mouthed early-twenties ravers who were being held back from the club. Perhaps it was the attitude, or the smell of too much of whatever it was they had been smoking hanging off of them. Regardless, she made her way in, her steps carrying her in a slow amble around the room. Here and there, small bursts of activity sprang up in the room as a handful of men and not a few women suddenly seemed entirely intent on making their way back out of the club, each shaking their heads as if waking from some drug-induced haze. Not enough to cause a riot, of course, since most of the crowd appeared to be immune to anything but the music and the bodies moving around them, but enough for someone with a sharp eye to notice. She made no attempt to find a place at the bar, instead casually nipping a drink from the hand of a man who looked numb enough that he might have been just about to drop it before she so nicely divested him of it.

People leaving in a haze could be drugs. But Cole watches them suspiciously. He has been paying attention and those folks had been fine a minute ago. Something else odd, and that is the nth warning thing. He is heading out, deciding to follow his instincts, when he spots his quarry. A trio of sharply dressed, almost offensively handsome gentlemen. Perfectly groomed and so blonde they could do TV spots. Also, wearing mirrored sunglasses in a nightclub at one in the morning. Because of course.

Somehow he avoids face-palming, but his drink gets passed into the hands of a passing guy. The same man that lost his drink to Vivianne. He probably doesn't mind the switch of bad rum for bad whiskey.

Vivienne continued her way through the club, managing to avoid unfriendly and overly friendly hands as she too spotted the trio of blondes that caught the pseudo-cowboy's eye. She managed to secret the drink, well, somewhere, so that by the time she found herself behind the man, also blond, but in a green duster, she had her hands free. At a solid six feet in her heels, she was almost able to speak into Cole's ear from behind him, her voice utterly French and, in a sharp contrast to the bass-heavy music, effortlessly mellifluous. "I do not think those are the droids you want to be looking for."

"Er… not my type," replies Cole, turning around and giving Vivienne his most charming smile. "They are probably rock stars trying to be inconspicuous and failing horribly," he adds, giving the young woman a once over, as if he had just spotted her and was pleasantly surprised. "Hey, I am Cole," he greets. "What can I do for… I mean, want to dance?"

"'Celebrity' is known to change man a man or woman's type," was Vivienne's amused reply, as Cole turned to face her, her head needing to tilt only slightly to allow her eyes to meet his, the charm in her smile a match for his, "Is that what they are calling it these days? Yes, let's dance."

Cole's grin seems to hint they are not the type he would invite to dance, no matter the celebrity (they are not) status. Vivienne is another thing, though. Too pretty and too armed. He has to bite his tongue not to ask 'what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?' because it is the question he wants to ask, and for real, not as a pick-up line.

Instead he his hand, to the dance floor, willing to give her half an hour to see what she is up to and where her eyes go. He is pretty sure the blond, pale trio is going to be around for a couple hours.

Vivienne moved easily through the crowd, as though a bubble seemed to surround herself and Cole. But it was an uneven thing. Some of the crowd seemed to ignore the two completely, while others seemed to fall back as though they were pushed. But then, given the way in which people were generally knocking into each other, as one tends to do when they've already had too much alcohol, it might go unnoticed for anyone not already looking for oddities in the behavior of the people in the club. As for the woman herself, she simply walked, eyes darting here and there as she took in a silent headcount of the people in the space. "This doesn't strike me as your type of club," Vivienne offered, as she fell into the rhythm of the music, the constant ebb and flow of bodies allowing her to move in fluid circles. Her eyes were still in constant movement, between the man dancing with her and the rest of the club, the trio included. "I'm Vivienne, by the way."

Cole hehs, "I am old-fashioned, I want live show and a better bar," he comments, almost shouting to be heard over the music, so much louder at the dance floor. "But I can adapt anywhere," he adds, "why are you here, Vivienne? It is not to dance. And if you say it is because something I did way back I demand at least a two minutes head start courtesy."

There was no look of artifice in Vivienne's expression, and her voice, such as it could be in the din of the club, was honest. "I'm not here for you, if that makes you feel better." Vivienne continued to dance, though her movements were bringing them closer to the edge of the floor as she caught sight of the trio moving further into the space, seeming to be heading, as casually as possible, towards the door on the left side of where the DJ was pumping out music. "I'm here for them." And as if in an amused homage to how he was dressed, "And the horse they road in on."

"I am both relieved and jet oddly disappointed," Cole glances at the blondes. "The rock stars? Don't tell me you are a fan?" He keeps his smile, but he is even more curious. He couldn't find much of the group some called 'the Mazur brothers' past the fact they are likely not brothers and their Polish accent is fake.

They cowboy crack deserves a response too, so he pulls off his hand and puts it on her head, managing to make it look like a dance move. "Don't start anything here," he advises, for once sounding serious.

"That's the nicest pick-up line I've heard in…well, ever. How much have you had to drink?" Vivienne continued to move, reaching up a hand to tap the hat Cole placed on her head down a bit more firmly. At least she wore it well, "Oh, I don't plan to start anything here. And neither do they." The pair finally made it off of the dancefloor, and Vivienne once again began that slow but steady movement in the same direction that the trio were wandering in. Though that wandering appeared to be picking up speed.

"Not enough, but the night is young," Cole had barely touched his drink. He actually hardly drinks when he is working, even for simple scouting tasks. And this one seems about to get more complicated.

Because he should stand aside and let Vivienne do her stuff, he is pretty sure she is a ninja.

Instead he stays at her side, as she is not starting anything. And of course the blondes won't either. Yeah, right.

Once they were away from the dancefloor, it became a bit easier to speak at a reasonable level, and Vivienne, still heading back to the back, which, ostensibly was 'towards the VIP area' which was above the main stage, and enclosed in glass, did at least offer, "I don't know why you're here but I am fairly sure it isn't for the bad drinks and the drug-induced free love, but you need to reconsider coming with me. This isn't something you're going to be able to walk away from without nightmares."

"Yet you came to me before going to them," points out Cole. Which was odd if she doesn't know him, but sometimes he stumbles into situations, it is his gift. He smirks at the nightmares bit, in mild disbelief, and stays at her side, adding "what? And missing meeting the rock stars? Never."

"I was called." is all Vivienne offers as she watched the trio depart through the rear door, falling back for a moment, before she proceeded on, walking with absolute confidence towards that self-same door, and the guards who were on either side of it. Either she had an invitation…or a hell of a lot of balls.

Really? Cole sure didn't call her, so her response doesn't quite make sense, if she was even responding to his words. As for the blond trio, if feels as if they changed their minds when Vivienne approached, going deeper into the club. Or perhaps fleeing.

He takes the moment of pause to lit a smoke. "They left two thugs," he points out. "And they are not the only ones in the club."

"I know. But I'm not here for them either. Not with this many innocents still inside the club. Vivienne stepped aside abruptly, stepping into a makeshift alcove that was the result of a pair of structural members for the roof of the warehouse, a hand reaching out to grab Cole by his duster sleeve and drag him in behind her. She moved quickly, turning so that her back was to the outer wall of the building and Cole's body hid her from view of the club, "Show me your weapons." It was not a request.

It is her show, so Cole lets himself to be dragged. People watching might assume whatever. That is… for a not request it sounds very much like a double entendre. Good enough to make him chuckle. "Show me yours," he replies. But sure enough, he has twin .50AE Desert Eagles on a belt. Also a large knife with a rather strange shape.

With Cole's body blocking the clubgoers, Vivienne flipped back either of her cloak's edges revealing the pair of katanas, one at each hip. "We can show each other the rest later." That was almost a smirk, in answer to his chuckle. "Only the one knife?" She didn't bother to wait for his answer, as she reached down to wrap her fingers around the top of the blade, right where it met the hilt, mouthing a silent string of words, and drawing her hand down in a swift, purposeful motion, the flicker of pain ignored, as the cut she had inflicted on herself leaving a coating of her blood on the blade. "Bullets won't be any good where we're going, unless you meet some of their entourage." Vivienne looked down, her hand closing into a fist tightly enough that the faint glimmer of light that fought to escape her fingers was nearly hidden.

"Well," comments Cole, tossing his cigarette away, "it is actually a knife forged from the armor of a crashed alien battleship, it is five thousand years old." It sounds like bullshit, but when she grabs it, she might realize how unnaturally sharp it feels. It is not steel or bronze or anything that should have been around so long ago.

It might still be bullshit, but that is one mean knife. Hey, he is not complaining she is a white girl using two Japanese swords. They are not even the right kind of paired Japanese swords. Kids today.

"Bullets won't do good? What are you hunting down that is bulletproof?" He asks.

Vivienne did not seem at all shocked by the revelation of the knife's origin. Well, that, or she didn't have the time to call him on his potential bullshit. "Was that alien spaceship made of silver? Nevermind. Maybe next time we can see how it works without the blood." When Vivienne released the fist she had made, her blood was still dark against the lighter skin of her palm. "Vampires." She shifted, enough to look around his shoulder, "We need to move."

"It is not silver," admits Cole. Vampires makes him narrow his eyes. Well, that explains the too pretty blonde guys in mirrorshades, the 'drugged' people, and even the bad whiskey. Then again in the world today a lot of things -could- explain it all. "I have incendiaries," he comments, changing the ammo clips of his guns with practiced ease. "So you are a vampire hunter and not a ninja? We gotta talk about the kind of swords you carry, later."

"Those will have to be a last resort. This is a rescue operation, of sorts." Vivienne reached behind her, withdraw a small handspear, the design of the spear itself looking almost Roman in design, "I am the Magdalena. I hunt evil of all kinds. This is just another evil." She almost shrugged, as she used her free hand to press palm-flat against Cole's chest, "We need to get downstairs before they can start evacuating." As for the swords, "The swords are blessed, the shape is an affection of the previous Magdalena's, who worked in Asia for a time." If Cole moved aside enough, she would attempt to slip past him and head towards the two thugs at the door she wanted to get into.

Cole snorts. So he doesn't have silver bullets today. Actually most days he doesn't have silver bullets, they are expensive. He knows what fire does to vampires, though. Even if it has been more than a decade since he has seen any, some things can't be forgotten.

He slides aside when she moves to slip out, the guns back to the holsters and the duster hiding them. His expression as he follows looks halfway between bemused and happy, as it would be expected for a guy that has been sucking face with a beautiful woman.

Vivienne strode across the remaining few feet that separated her from the two thugs, both of whom immediately move to bar her entry to the door. "Cover me. The less these people see the better." Vivienne moved with speed nearly to match their own, as she reached out to stab one with the spear, the spearhead flashing incandescent white as it pierced the man's chest, his body flashing as if it had been turned to blackened coal in the heart of a fire, before it crumbled into dust. Her free hand, the one still coated in her blood erupted with the same light as she gripped the second man around the throat, gripping hard enough to choke his scream before he too began to dissolve, leaving them free and clear on the door.

"No cameras," mentions Cole. Which is odd and he noticed right away when he came into the club, but they are dealing with supernatural critters, so odd was to be expected. "You have magical blood? Nice," he adds as an aside.

Two rather large thugs just vanished and he wants him to cover her? That is not going to work. He guesses less than a minute for someone to notice these guards have vanished. "Now you have to move swiftly, lady."

"Magical? That's a story." Vivienne moved to the door which was not locked, given that it did indeed lead up towards the VIP area and the other high end booths and slipped inside. A flick of her wrist and the Spear grew to its full length as she moved at speed towards the cypher locked door in the rear. No doubt it leads down into a basement of some sort.

Cole closes the door behind them, and then locks it. But it won't deter a vampire for long, they are too strong. What else can he remember? Oh yeah, they see in the dark. So he pulls out his red mask and dons it, it has night-vision. Then he follows Vivianne, the knife in his right hand and one of his handguns in the other. "Who are you here to rescue?"

"Human cattle." Vivienne pulled up short as she came to the door, pulling out a small box from her pocket and pulling out the leads which she plugged into the bottom of the cypher lock. The small box did not beep, but it vibrated in her hand as she waited. "What do you think all of those humans in the warehouse are? In every one of these 'clubs; that they run? That's not a dancefloor, it's a stockyard." The door beeped, and Vivienne pulled it open, before she tucked away the box. "Be ready. Even I'm not sure what we're going to find down there. Every facility seems to be different."

"Illegal immigrants, I guess," responds the now-masked Cole, "the ones that don't get missed, the ones that were never here." They might be vampires, but they are going to do what all human traffickers do, be them involved in illegal organ transplants or brainwashing or experiments with drugs and genetic enhancement.

A cypher door? He has explosives for those, but he will give the woman's gizmo a minute. Explosives are often too noisy.

"There have been rumours that the vampires are importing people from overseas to pad their numbers. I have to admit, I know very little about their ways and society, which is probably a failing. Generally I try to kill them when I find them, but this is something beyond anything I have seen before." She glanced back at Cole as she started down the stairs, drawing a sword along with her Spear, "Vampires are not my specialty, you understand."

"I have not seen any vampire in years," admits Cole. So don't ask him about them. "And last time I was in Calcutta, they didn't turn to dust when stabbed; we had to burn the corpses." So maybe not even the same kind of bloodsucker. Who the hell knows?

He stops, then sighs. "Smells to fear and blood. I guess it is nightmare time."

All was silent, save for the humming of machines, as Vivienne and Cole came to the bottom of the stairs and, after a moment, Vivienne turned to follow the corridor to the first door, which she pushed open with absolute care, scanning for enemies, before she stepped inside. It was a surgical ward, or set up like one. A bank of a dozen racks were set up around the room. Each held an immobile human, each of whom was connected to an intricate set of tubes and filters which seemed to be harvesting blood on the one hand, and feeding the victim intravenously on the other. Each victim appeared wide awake, but frozen in place save for their eyes, which widened in fear at the sight of the two entering the room. "God help me."

Cole is masked, so his reaction to the clinical setup is hard to gauge. He doesn't rush to help, though, and tries to stop Vivianne from doing it herself if that is her reaction. Instead he first checks for traps or alarms before trying to free the prisoners, triple checking before sheathing his weapons.

Vivienne was not so foolish as to rush in, and she too checked the room as well as the corridor before they began to work, her eyes intent as she worked to lower the rack she was working on to the reclined position, "Look at their bodies." She did not use his name, "Look at their muscle tone. They have been strapped here for weeks." There were even signs that the vampires had been attempting to deal with the sort of bedsores that came from keeping someone entirely immobile for days on end. "This isn't a smash and grab operation. But it's crude."

"Weeks? They can't keep a human alive like this without some serious medical knowledge and drugs," replies Cole, pulling out the drains from the prisoners, then loosening the restraints. "Intravenous feeding is not a good replacement for normal food, at least not the normal treatments in hospitals," but maybe here they are using some kind of experimental high-tech procedure. Hell if he knows. Probably not. This might be just some enterprising vampires using stuff they have read in the Internet.

He stops. "We cannot take them with us. Most are not going to be able to walk. We are going to have to drive away or kill the vampires and then call the police and a hospital."

"I know we can't. And it's no good to call my minder in. We couldn't even fit all of these people inside the SUV." Vivienne glanced over to where Cole was working. "This feels like a rush job to me, or an experiment. Seeing if they can keep the cattle alive to get more blood out of them." Vivienne frowned, but she continued regardless, "Blood on tap is less likely to raise suspicions than people constantly going missing, never to be seen again." Vivienne finished with the last of her 'patients', before she stepped back, "We'll need to figure out a way to clear the humans up in the warehouse as well, or they'll stampede trying to get out."

Cole checks his watch, "four hours for dawn," he comments. That is when the club should be cleared, as not to draw too much attention from the morning people and the authorities. Also, aren't vampires nocturnal? Maybe they are okay as long as they avoid sunlight. Better not to assume anything. "I think those doors are sound-proof, so what happens here can't be heard upside. At least not with the music going. Lets clear this level."

Vivienne did not rush immediately towards the door to start with the murderizing, but instead, came to a stop in front of Cole, seeming to take the measure of the man, "Are you sure you want to be involved in this? There's still time for you to get back upstairs and forget you ever saw this place."

"Lady, this doesn't even rank among the worst ten things I have seen," replies the masked man. "Why did you come to me of all the people in the club, anyway?" He asks. "You saw something most people can't see? Well, you got lucky. And so did I, because I was snooping and I would have stumbled into this thing in a day or two, and maybe ended up like them." He thumbs to his back, to the prisoners. "Except I can survive like that, perhaps forever."

Vivienne's face scrunched a bit as she got called 'Lady'. "Well, I suppose that's better than 'Nun'." She shook her head, "I didn't see, I was called." And then she shook her head again, "There's no time to explain it now." That last revelation, "Then let's hope we make it out of this, and we don't need to find out." Vivienne spun on her heel, making her way back out into the corridor.

"Wait, are you a nun?" Does he sound a bit disappointed? Yes, he did. But… lets try to keep this professional. Cole draws his weapons and this time takes point, moving remarkably quietly for a man his sized. He is looking for the living area, or maybe coffin area. Wherever the three 'rock stars' have gone.

"I am not a nun. I was simply raised by them." There was the usual pique in Vivienne's voice, before she settled herself, murmuring soft words before she followed after Cole, eyes constantly moving, seeking for the heart of the facility. Many of the rooms were empty, littered with the detritus that was common for people kept in captivity. But they had yet to find anymore captives, only empty cages full of filth. They would not find any sign of 'life' until the got about halfway down the corridor, when the faint sounds of a man screaming made its way through one of the doors off along a right branch of the corridor.

Oooh. Sore point. The mask covers the smirk, but he manages not to laugh. "Well, good," he murmurs, keeping quiet for a while, moving slowly. This place is much larger than expected, why did someone build so much under a warehouse? Maybe smuggling tunnels. But New York soil is hard to dig on. Then he hears the screaming, and stops his train of thought. Instead he hastens the pace, looking for the source of the noise, and stopping by the door.

The tunnel structure was old, that much was clear, though some work had been done to shore it up over the years. It had the look of old maintenance tunnels, such as existed in a larger scale connecting the subway system. Vivienne closed her eyes for a moment, as they came up by the door, before she nodded, "Go in guns blazing?" Not that she had any guns.

"Suppose so," replies Cole, leaning against the wall and trying to listen for a couple seconds. Maybe a voice besides the screaming man? No, the walls are too thick, at least for his regular human senses.

So he turns to face the door and kicks it down, then rolls inside, firing his incendiary bullets if anyone inside tries to draw a handgun or reveals to have oversized fangs.

Well, they ALL seemed to have oversized fangs. Well, except for the poor man who was tied down spread eagle to a table like some living side of beef. The vampires arrayed around him, none of which were the trio of blondes they had originally been hunting had latched onto the man as though he were their perfect idea of a buffet. One at his neck, two at the crook of each elbow, a pair at his thighs. Each at a point of arterial blood flow. And he was not alone. There were three such buffets laid out, two men and one woman. All awake, though only the man they had initially heard was making any sound.

As if they were of a single hive mind, every vampire lifted their head and hissed in anger at the pair entering the room. And every single one of them seemed to be staring down at Vivienne, who stood now just behind Cole, the Spear blazing to life with incandescent fire, the same light spilling from her palms wrapped around the sword in her off hand.

That is unusual. Ignoring the man with the gun and look at the girl with a spear. But Cole is not going to complain. Five vampires are bad news if they were the kind that are faster and stronger than any normal human. So Cole starts firing, the heavy gun deafening in the enclosed space. The bullets exploding in white phosphorous on impact. Head-shots as long as they are hissing like idiots. Then whatever works, if they are moving.

"Kill the Christ-bitch!" Growled the vampire who had been at the screaming man's neck, as all five charged forward, the lead vampire launching himself at Vivienne along with his compatriots. Only to be brought up short by Cole's gun. One went down almost immediately, her body crumbling as the two who had been at the door had. The second took a glancing blow from the round, half of his face burning off. Not that it stopped him. It only turned him to attack the man who had dared to fire on him. As for Vivienne, she was soon engaged. Spear and sword at work, as she tried to draw the remaining vampires to her, no doubt to leave Cole an opportunity to take them out while they were distracted.

Turning to Grifter with half the head already gone is not a wise decision. Perhaps it could work with a regular gunman, given how quickly vampires are. But Cole happens to be one of the deadliest men in the world with a handgun.

He keeps firing, this time aiming lower, and then dives sideway to avoid the charge, still putting a couple more bullets on the vampire's side, destroying most of his chest with lead and fire. That leaves him with just a couple rounds, which he aims to the remaining vampires backs.

Two down, three to go. And with the odds lessened, Vivienne turned to the task of actually trying to kill the ones she had drawn to herself. She was an athlete and at the peak of health, but she did not move at superhuman speed and certainly not as quickly as Cole. But she did manage to decapitate one of the vampires, the smaller one, as he shrank back from the blazing fire of the spear. Give the brunette credit for that. She was relentless, and she seemed to ignore, mostly, the claws that raked cloak and armor. Two now, both still distracted by Vivienne. Also, close enough that she might take a round of Cole fired into the melee.

There is a pause in the gunshots as Cole switches weapons. "I am a bit offended you leeches all went for the woman," he notes as he starts shooting again, white phosphorous exploding on the backs of the vampires. "It is because I am atheist? I feel religious discrimination here." And if any of the vampires is still alive (or undead) well, he has an alien knife momentarily blessed to stab them.

Of the two vampires remaining, one, literally, exploded under Cole's phosphorous rounds. The timing could have been better, as the flash of brilliant light caused Vivienne to turn her head a bit sooner than she had expected to, and she got a rake of claws along her cheek for her trouble, blood and that light spilling out across her cheek before she lifted her hand, the illumination spilling across the face of the lead vampire who was still single-mindedly hacking and slashing in Vivienne's direction, his face crisping like sausage skin on an open grille, before Vivienne drive the flaming spear into the thing's chest, dusting their final opponent.

The silence in the wake of the battle was almost deafening, Vivienne imminently cultured voice rolling through the space, "Discrimination of a sort, yes. It doesn't matter that you believe, or that they believe, but it matters that I believe."

"If you says to," replies Cole with a shrug. He is reloading, but those were all his incendiary rounds. They don't see much use and the demand for them is low, so he rarely carries many rounds.

Then he moves to free the panicking human prisoners. "You should be safe, we are super-heroes," he comments, trying to sound like Captain America (not working). "The police will be here soon."

Vivienne fell back, allowing Cole to move ahead to help the buffet, pulling out a small phone and speaking lowly, "Josef, we have a situation here. Can you see about getting the police called in when we're ready? We have nearly a dozen and a half, and we're five less vampires here, bur we haven't cleared the place yet." She nodded, as she moved to help, now that the call was near'y over, "I will."

The man who had been being feasted on clung to Cole as though Cole were the second coming of the savior. One of the other cattle was female and did not awaken, even after she was freed. The other, another man tried to help as best he could, but the effects of blood loss were evident. he wasn't going anywhere without help.

Ugh. Clingy hostages. Well, in this case there is a clingy vampire victim. He is usually good with people, but the truth is they don't have time for this now. "We gotta find the rockstar brothers," he tells Vivienne, pushing the guy away and forcing him to sit down while he bandages the bites. "And there might be more bloodsuckers, there are too many tunnels here."

Vivienne was no doctor, but she had some experience with battlefield medicine and she helped as best she could. She broke away only once, to toss away the remains of her cloak, which did not, in truth reveal much more than Cole might have already seen. There was a harness for the spear in it's shortened form on her back, which would allow the weapon to rest along her spine. The only other thing of note was the now visible cross that was worked into the front of her armor, the leather so dark a red it was nearly as black as the rest of the armor. "So we either go back and clear that VIP area, or we continue through the tunnels." She considered, "Of course, we could collapse the tunnels, but I have no idea what damage it would do to the city above."

"We need to sweep the entire place," mentions Cole. "Do vampires really sleep in coffins? Because I have not seen any yet. Or any kind of sleeping arrangements." On the other hand maybe they have an apartment somewhere. The bulk of Cole knowledge on vampires comes from pop culture and a couple nights in Calcutta years ago with his old buddy Jackson Dane. Dane was never good at explaining stuff.

"Only the ones in Hollywood. Or in really bad gothic novels." As they had done everything that they could for the victims, Vivienne stepped back, the flame that licked along the head of the spear winking out. for a moment, with the brightness of the flame no longer washing out her face she looked tired. Tired and sad. "Come on, we don't have a lot of time before the sun rises. And if they have their lairs behind vaults or some other form of security, we may not be able to reach them.

Cole grunts. Actually he has explosives able to blow up most security doors, so he is quite sure of their ability to get past security down here. Vaults are unlikely since he knows the Mazur boys have not been in New York for more than a few weeks, months maybe, certainly settling in well after the demon invasion last fall.

"Lead on," he offers, "you guys wait here," he tells the prisoners as he heads out.

Vivienne, given that she was working with Cole and scraping by on a wing and, literally, a prayer, simply moved out of the room, turning to consider whether to go back the way they came, or to continue on along the tunnel. "Let's head back and clear the upper level. They can't get back out the way they came in." Vivienne headed off, moving towards the small staircase that lead up towards the VIP, "let's hope everyone on the floor is too stoned to look up."

Improvisation is one of Grifter's strongest skills, so he adapts easily. Going up or going down, it is all the same. Why has he gotten involved in this anyway? Part curiosity, part knowing something creepy was going on, part knowing the 'rock stars' were assholes, maybe part due to Vivienne sexy French accent.

To be honest, it is not just the accent.

He still manages to present himself as a reliable companion, surprisingly at ease in a rather weird situation. Which might not that weird for a former Team Seven operative, after all. Hew takes the lead only where it is dark. Nightvision goggles, he explains. Otherwise he follows Vivianne, covering her.

The more they explored, the clearer it was that this was a rush job of an operation. A Rush, or something that might not have been as sanctioned as the three blondes might have allowed to come across. They had walked through the warehouse like kings or demigods and yet, the place looked cobbled together. Everything from the security, to the way the blood was being harvested, even to the shit security.

As for Vivienne, she was more than happy to switch off with Cole when needs required, though she took the lead as they started up the rear steps that, if they were lucky really did lead up to the VIP balcony. "Let's hope they don't have many guests."

"Or at least not of the fanged variety," comments Cole. "You have not healed that cut in your face, and you look tired. Is using that magical spear tiring you too quickly?" He prefers to know now, not later, if she drops halfway the fight. "Worst comes the worst I can blow them up, I suppose. But we must be over the dance floor right now."

"I'm fine. Think of it like a recharging battery. I can lose my charge completely, but if I have enough time between bouts, I can recharge myself. The Spear is the Spear, it does what it wants and needs me only occasionally." Vivienne paused, as she considered the entry into the room, "Let me go in first. They know what I am, and I can disorient them long enough for you to start cutting through them. You still have the knife. Use it."

Cole nods. He has the bloodied knife and he has two large handguns. He can do things with guns most people wouldn't believe. He is not sure if it will be of any use, but that has never stopped him. "Ready when you are, Buffy," he replies. He is clearly grinning. Probably it is not the normal attitude of anyone before a fight with vampires.

Vivienne gave the man a once over, before she nodded, putting away her sword to leave her hand free, and turning back to the door, stepping back and giving it a good kick. The Spear once again erupted into brilliant light and flame as she charged in, the weapon raised high to create a cone of light around herself. Clearly, she intended for it to be all eyes on her, hoping, as it often did that bright light blinded those who were suddenly exposed to it, to everything else around them.

The trio were indeed on the balcony. None of them were alone. Each had a guest with them, though they were all so docile that they did not even look up at the light. The vampires, however, were a different story and they sprang towards Vivienne immediately. The woman stood steady, seeming to welcome the attack, her free hand raking her belt, reopening the bleeding on her palm, which she flicked in the vampire's direction, as if she were sprinkling water on them. Alas, for them, it acted like battery acid on their exposed skin.

Just charging without even an evil overlord attempt of speech. Grifter is a somewhat disappointed, but he will get over it quickly. At least the 'guests' are not armed or hostile. Which leaves him to slide inside, and dives.

He does not even try the gun. Gunshots up here could lead to panic downstairs plus the armed guys among the crowd coming up fast. Instead he stabs sideways to the leftmost one of the vampires hamstringing him as he rushes Magdalena. If the man falls down, he follows up by jumping on his back and stabbing through his nape, the alien metal can cut human bone as if it was cardboard, and he figures decapitation will do it for a vampire.

The alien blade does indeed cut through flesh and sinew, seeming to work in concert with the blood, which burned and flashed with that now familiar light, as the body dusted itself, leaving Cole, possibly, momentarily unbalanced, now that the body beneath him dissolved. As for Vivienne, she fought, blocking and parrying the blows coming her way, moving and spinning with all of the grace of a born martial artist. Clearly, this was not the first time she had been the bait. She even made certain to keep herself between the door and the vampires.

If Cole is unbalance it is by less than a tenth of a second, then he is on the surviving vampires with almost unnatural speed. He grabs the head of one of them with an arm, the knife in the other stabbing from behind, while kicking sideways to the other vampire, trying to unbalance him for Vivianne to get the advantage.

It all happened so quickly, one might have been forgiven for thinking that this had to be the magic of some movie studio. The vampire Cole had by the throat screamed, as the blade sank into its's back, the tip of it exiting out through it's sternum, Cole's foot kicking through the dust it left behind, the last of the trio pitching forward, only to find itself, for the instant that it survived, impaled on the Spear, before it too vanished. "Well, it's not a jab in the side, but it'll do."

The three humans on the balcony had not moved an inch, their eyes staring straight ahead out of the viewing window down to the club.

Perhaps too quickly. Cole is surprised how deadly the knife became to the undead. Magical blood, indeed. He remains crouched for a few seconds, expecting the companions to reach, maybe some bodyguards to burst in. But nothing. The three blondes were careless. They must have noticed the pair of vampires at the door was gone and still did little as response.

One the other hand his customer is not going to be displeased the Mazur are gone. He might even get paid an extra.

"That's it? Could the police handle the rest or should we stay around?" Because vampires are more the DEO problem, he expects. Or maybe SHIELD's specialized divisions.

Vivienne lowered the Spear, as she walked to the viewing window, closing her eyes and seeming to withdraw into herself. It was a long few seconds before she responded. "I don't sense anymore evil on the dancefloor. Quite likely any vampires made their way to the exit. I would. This was a terrible operation. if we can keep the doors sealed, we should be able to keep any vampires in the tunnels in the tunnels." She finally opened her eyes again, pulling out her phone and checking her messages. "The authorities are on the way. We should probably try to make our own escape. The stragglers won't get far."

"It is unlikely they don't have a backdoor out in the tunnels," points out Cole. "Unfortunately we don't have the time to explore the whole area. But… yes, I rather avoid the authorities." He won't explain if not asked, though. "Come, I saw an emergency exit to the fire escape just around the corner. Do you need a ride?"

"I thought as much." Vivienne actually looked almost amused, as she leaned on the Spear, "You drive, we can go to my loft. You know your way around the city, I suspect? I live in Tribeca." Vivienne did not bother to go back for her cloak, she simply waited for Cole to lead the way back out of the club.

"Well enough," replies Cole. He guides the young woman to the fire escape, and from there to his motorcycle, parked a couple blocks away. From there it is easy to get lost among the traffic of the city that never sleeps. They barely have time to hear the sirens of the incoming police cruisers.

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