2.7

Brockton Bay

April 9th,2011

8:06 EST

By my estimates, I searched about half of the city last night. After the debacle with Mush and his...operations, I decided to call it quits then, returning to my room. Scene cut, and I'm standing above the alley behind the library

At around the scheduled time, Lisa walks into the alley. This time, Brian and Alec (both out of costume) are walking out in the open with her. Guess they learned their lesson after last time. Alec has a backpack on, presumably for transporting his scepter, and Lisa is holding a suitcase that is in no way inconspicuous.

As they approach the midpoint of the alley, I step out of my hiding spot and zoom over until I'm about six feet away from them. Alec and Brian jump at my presence, though Lisa's grin is still plastered on her face. I don't feel like playing any games, so I cut straight to business.

"Do you have the money?"

Lisa nods once, and pulls a rather thick envelope out of her back pocket. She holds it out, and I take the invitation to grab it. She seems shocked by the use of superspeed in close quarters, though I'm busy counting it up at the moment. $49,800, as agreed upon, and an additional $500 from Alec. Annoyingly, the bills are all large, meaning I can't easily use them without looking super shady.

I put the money back inside and close the envelope, safely putting the money back inside. I then swap it for Regents scepter at super speed, which I was keeping nearby. I hand it off to him. He inspects it, before shrugging and putting in the bag. I raise my eyebrow. [I]"If there's nothing else?"[/I]

Brian seems to take this as his cue. "Listen, there's rules, and there's a reason people follow them. If you keep going around like you are, then you're going to bite off more than you can chew. Independents don't last long in our business, no matter how powerful they are."

That almost sounded vaguely threatening. "I'll keep that in mind."

And then I leave in a gust of wind.

Well, I probably should have seen this coming.

"You fucking cunt face! Show your self so I can ram my tank up your ASS!"

At first inspection, Skidmark isn't anything impressive. Well, his teeth are impressive, but for the wrong reasons. The truck/tank he's standing on would be impressive, if it weren't a complete eyesore.

The thing's just about wide enough to take up two lanes, and towers about 10 feet above the pavement, with a turret mounted on top. There's a machine gun mounted on either side, with a heavier one on the back. I'd question how the Merchants have such fire power, but there's more important things to take care of right now.

Namely, the fact that the thing's rolling down the street, and causing all the insurance men nightmares. I assume.

Right, marking targets. Squealer's got to be the one driving the thing, and there're probably at least 3 others inside, judging from the guns. Skidmark's standing on top, with some gang bangers flanking him, each one holding their own variety of rifle. At least there will be plenty of charges to convict them on.

Where the hell's the Protectorate? As soon as that thought passes through my mind, I see a blur moving down the street toward the tank. A quick slip into relative time shows that it's Velocity, and also confirms that he's slower than me.

Velocity wouldn't be here without backup, so I presume that there're others nearby. Right. The tank will be the biggest long term problem, so I'll need to tank care of it first. Ha! Get it?

...I'm so sorry.

A bit of fooling with my power earlier shows that I can run on walls, but it's super hard and I can't stop moving while doing it. Using this trick,, I take a shortcut over the lip of the roof, and run up to the side of the tank. Pushing it through time 2 years.. wait, what?

"I se"

Apparently this tank is either Scion proof, or isn't destroyed by other means in a few years. Zooming it forward in time reveals it's not going away with in the next decade, so I'm trying to push it back in time, when I get my second unpleasant surprise of the night.

"e him!"

...I'm not faster than a bullet.

The gun closest to me starts firing, and I see the bullets moving roughly like you'd see a jogger over taking you while walking, if the jogger was metal and was out for your blood.

I franticly back up, retreating behind cover. Right, I don't feel like seeing if I can dodge their bullets, so plan B is in motion, and so am I.

I scurry up the side of the tank before their guns can bear on me, and leap into action. I knock the gunner with three punches out first, before tagging Skidmark with a punch to the face, and then a follow up to the belly. The last guy's just barely raising his gun, right as I'm taking out his companion. A quick flurry of punches takes him out similarly to his friend, and then I'm looking down the hatch. Right, into the beast.

I slide down the ladder, and take in my surroundings. As predicted, there's Squealer and her crew men, plus a guy standing security. Who's currently raising a gun towards the ladder. I shoulder check him, reflexive dropping out of relative time and back to .

I call back up my speed, panicking, just as the others are hopping off their stations and drawing pistols. I don't think I have time to bring myself up to full speed, so I opt to use the sentry as a springboard to launch myself at Squealer.

She's in the beginning of looking up to see what the commotion was, so she receives a fist to the gut. I don't have time to waste on her though, so I'm reaching out with my elbow for the guy on my right.

I'm a bit worried about causing extreme harm, but I don't really value the life of some druggies over that of myself. I still try to pull my punches, keeping from pushing past the barrier that my elbow is rubbing against. I turn to the last guy, who has fumbled his pistol out of his holster. He receives a punch to the gut as I turn to survey the rest of the cabin. The guy I shoulder checked is getting up, along with the rear gunner that got knocked off his feet by his comrade.

A quick follow up to both of them solves that problem, leaving both on the floor. After a quick round of follow up punches, I breathe out, and drop out of relative time after checking the cabin. I slump over by the ladder. I'm not necessarily out of breath, but I feel drained.

The patter of feet on the roof brings me back to attention, and I speed to my feet, only for Velocity to peer down. "Everything okay down there?"

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Velocity seems to sag in relief. "Thank god. Zoom, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

Velocity nods. "Don't worry, we'll get these guys booked up. In the meantime, if you could stick around, the Protectorate has some questions..."

Alarm bells! "I'm sorry, but I'll have to politely decline."

This whole time, I've cautiously been finding the right time stamp, and I've just managed to get a section of the side to disappear. I take the exit, and survey my surroundings.

There's a bunch of PRT vans, but what draws my attention is the figure in blue power armor atop his motorcycle. On his right a woman in military fatigues with a scarf around her face stands with a pistol holstered at her side. Armsmaster speaks up. "I'm afraid we'll have to insist."

Crap. Running from the authorities isn't the image that I want to portray at this moment, but I don't feel like surrendering to the Protectorate. I don't even bother replying, instead opting to take off at full speed.

I zig, and I zag, then round a corner and stop. After no one appears, I resolve to go in for the night. I've done enough for now.