10:16 PM EDT, Saturday, August 22nd, 2010
Brockton Bay
Really, it was pretty easy to figure out who'd I go after. I'd had to wait this long, just in case someone connected Mom moving here and bringing me to the appearance of a new hero, and that meant I'd had plenty of time to pick my targets.
The Mafia- more accurately, the Romanos, both for the name of their 'family' and for the fact their 'alleged' boss's house was on Romano street- were far too entrenched. Their white-collar, 'respectable' crime was something I couldn't fight easily. They might not have had many metahumans, that anyone knew of at least, but they had political connections and a lot of mundane foot soldiers if need be. No, taking them on was a bad idea, not until I had a solid reputation and a better way of gathering evidence.
The Midnight Gang would be a bad idea for different reasons, namely the fact that I didn't know if their 'Papa' was in town or not. If he wasn't, I could probably hurt them, so long as I was careful. If he was...one stray drop of sweat or blood, a single hair, or even just entering the wrong place could get me killed or worse. It was rumored a good chunk of New York's 'suicides' were him disposing of anyone who bothered him. And he was just one magic user- his gang had dozens, and just like their boss there was no telling who was in town at the moment.
That left the Manos Sangre Cartel. Snowflame aside (and I still had no idea how he ended up even superficially in charge) they didn't have much metahuman fire-power. A few enhanciles, mostly Venom users, but if the Cartel had other assets they were definitely holding them back. None of them had the tech or the raw durability to fight me.
And so now I was hunting drug dealers. My plan was pretty simple: start at the bottom, capture, interrogate to find whoever their boss was and where they were hiding, knock idiot unconscious and leave them for the police, find the boss, and repeat until I ran out of night.
I don't think Mom would approve of me punching my way up the criminal ranks. She thinks I'm just going to be doing general patrols in the area, focusing on the Cartel because I don't want to have hard-core retribution after me. But I need to do more than that.
The Team... I've known most of them since I was a kid. And I am not going to be the baby of the team. I have to prove myself, in a way that was impossible to overlook. I figure causing so much trouble for the Cartel they can't keep selling drugs is a good way to achieve just that.
But there's one major problem.
I can't find any Cartel members. At all. No drug dealers in sight, and while local gangs handle most of that I'm deep inside the territory tagged with red-hand sigils, so it should be easy to find them. But apparently it's vacation night for them or something.
Finally, my ears pick up something, a block away.
Honestly, who even says 'you got the stuff?' when referring to drugs anymore? Anyone would be suspicious hearing that.
Whatever. Time to climb that ladder of acceptable targets, starting with street-level idiot numbers one and two. I nullify the sound of my footsteps as I jump from rooftop to rooftop.
Identity isn't much of a worry for me. My powers are a secret, so only my face is known, because Mom has about as much of a secret identity as Snowflame. Thankfully, the armor provides a helmet as well as everything else, one that lets my transformed ears flick around and do their thing. Which is mostly just look weird. Either way, my identity is safe as I land completely silently in the shadows of the alleyway, just behind the two men who I'd overheard. Hmm. Now which one's the dealer, and which one's the client? One I have to knock unconscious, the other can run off.
I watch carefully as the closer of the two hands over a bag of what I think is cocaine, gets a wad of bills in response, and then shakes hands with the client. The user walks off quickly.
At which point I turn off the sound, preventing the dealer from hearing a thing as I walk up to him and kick him in the fork of the legs from behind. He folds over, the sound deadened by my power, and I grab his shirt collar, yanking him back up.
"You and I, we're going to talk a bit," my power whispers in his ear as I leap back up onto the rooftop with him firmly in hand.
10:29 PM EDT
As it turns out, people will tell you just about anything when you threaten to break bones. Including the reason that it's so difficult to find people- a meeting of the local middle-man, who wants to talk to his dealers in person- and where to find said meeting.
He hadn't lied. He hadn't dared.
I heard the meeting long before I saw it, powers picking out entire conversations, men talking among themselves. It takes moments to count them- eight in the first room, half a dozen in the next, along with two men prowling the upper floor.
"-boss is late, should we-"
"-c'mon man, you want to pick a fight with him? Use your damn head."
"-no damn business messing with our turf. Gonna need to send a message. Ours now, bitches."
I land noiselessly on the rooftop nearest the building, a largish two-story building that had all the marks of being abandoned. Brockton's economic boom, helped along by trade with Atlantis and an unusually perceptive mayor, hadn't yet reached this area, it seemed. One guy guarding the door, pistol grip clearly visible from the front of his trousers. Idiot.
It takes about two seconds to deaden the sound around him, drop on top of him, and knock him unconscious. Eleven more to relocate him to a convenient dumpster. I deaden my own sound, and open the door the slightest fraction. Place is full of shadows, only a couple of weak bulbs providing light, mostly in the middle. I can see a couple of the dealers talking, but the door itself is in shadow.
I open it noiselessly and slip into the darkness, keeping at the edges, trusting the armor's coloration and my own power to keep from being noticed, just for a few seconds.
Long enough to shut down sound in the entire building. The quiet chaos and panic that starts up as everyone begins to realize that nobody can hear anything is...satisfying. Men finger weapons, backing into corners, eyes flaring.
I step into the light, clap my hands, the sound ringing out in a completely silent room, and everything goes still.
I snap my fingers, twisting ultrasonic notes into the glass bulbs.
The lights go out, and all hell breaks loose as the men- and one woman- panic instantly. I take a step back as I take what feels like a punch to the chest.
Oh. Someone actually had decent aim.
I hear the bullet tink to the ground.
And then I use the Brown Note.
It's impossible to knock someone out with just sound. Unless they have some weird medical condition, that is. But disorienting them, so badly they can't see straight or even move properly? That's easy.
Some try to run, and I go after them first, leaving a trail of unconscious people- and the ones who really wished they were- in my wake. For most of them, love taps suffice, and a couple don't even need that. Within seconds, the first floor is clear.
Naturally, at that point the ceiling explodes, as a hulking behemoth of a man punches through it, sending plaster and wood everywhere. He tries shouting, only to find out, as his subordinates did, that sound simply doesn't work for him anymore.
Hmm. Muscles like that, he's probably a Venom user. Not a problem. I launch myself forwards, catching the big guy in the gut with both feet, knocking him to the floor and causing yet more property damage on impact.
Check with my powers. Nothing left in the building.
I'm going to be honest, I'm a little disappointed. Even Bane-lite- who has apparently elected to lapse into unconsciousness- wasn't a challenge. On the other hand…well, if that's 'easy', then it's going to take a lot less time to take apart the Cartel than I thought. Oh, well.
I pull a cell phone from my belt, and dial 911. "Hero calling in," I say as soon as the prerecorded announcement stops. Thankfully, the person on the line doesn't interrupt. "Corner of...Cheery and 33rd, two-story building. Got...fourteen dealers in varying states of consciousness, and a Venom user, all incapacitated. I'll be sitting out front, wearing black."
"Understood, ma'am," the person on the other end says. "There's a squad car on the way now."
"Good." I hang up.