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Attack the Block; Tempo
Topic Started: May 17 2013, 01:06 AM (281 Views)
Mala Suerte
Unregistered

April 28th
Midnightish



For almost a month now, Zita had been working on and off with Purple Man as a gun for hire. The rich son of a bitch had no idea that the woman he had placed so much faith in was a plant by SHIELD. So far she had pulled a couple of jobs here and there and gotten paid well for them, but the money was not the important part. What was important was the information that she gathered in the process. Unfortunately there was not a lot of useful knowledge for the boys back at base. Killgrave was a smart individual so he knew how to cover his tracks. But still, by now she had gotten close enough to gain more trust from the man. Since she was only on call and not actually part of the man’s organization she still could assume her duties as an agent of SHIELD which was exactly what she was doing tonight.

Mutant Town was a hotbed of activity the likes that scared people could take advantage of. With the ultimatum placed on the world a couple of days ago by the Illuminati, there was no telling who would try to storm the little part of New York to take down the known heroes that resided within such X-Investigations and Horizon Labs. Both were large targets that needed to be protected, but so was the general public. Anyone smart enough could easily use innocent civilians to draw out the heroes. Zita was not about to let that happen. Since she was still playing the role of a mercenary and Killgrave’s network was far reaching, her face was hidden behind a mask, one that she only used on SHIELD assignments. Under the cover of the midnight darkness, Zita moved along the streets of Mutant Town with wide eyes. She was not alone in this.

Anyone looking to cause trouble tonight would be greatly disappointed. Zita twirled a less-than-lethal sidearm around her index finger. Only if necessary would she use deadly force. She touched the comm. link in her ear. “My eyes in the sky, how’s everything looking?”
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Tempo
Unregistered

Orbiting Redhook at an altitude of one kilometre, Agent Heather Tucker was doing her bit in reconnaissance. What her eyes could not identify at this distance, satellite telemetry could. With a grand population of just under 2000 individuals, Redhook aka Mutant Town had a disproportionate number of people often identified with the Hero Archetype. And that attracted a disproportionate number of asinine assholes.

So Tempo and company were in the business of stopping surprise assault with reasonable force. She had speed and flight under her control, not brute force. To counter this – weakness – she carried paired Shock Sticks on her back, twin pistols on her thighs and a couple of combat knives on her belt. The usual stuff. Protection from force was another matter. Her fancy black flight suit was not very bullet proof. She had to rely on her ability to dodge.

From inside her helmet, she was tracking the movement of every potential threat within a five click radius. Technically, a micro computer was doing the tracking but she was doing the sorting. People came and went, slept, went to work and other. Almost simultaneously, four vans entered her search radius. A transparent map overlayed her vision with the four vehicles highlighted as red dots, two near the top and two near the right.“Just picked up four bogeys, currently tracking.” Satellite feedback began to send her data on the four targets. “Vans, black, calculating route data now…SHIT! They’re converging on Horizon labs. Just ran red lights. ETA three minutes. Two from the north, two from the east. East bound will pass one block to the south of your current position in 90 seconds. I got the North. Make them stop.”

She had no doubt that Zita could make a van stop, but making the block in 90 seconds, she wasn’t so sure. Tempo on the other hand ramped up her Space/time distortion and barrelled in on her pair of really suspicious black vans with contents unknown.

It looked like the two active Shield agents were in the right place at the right time. Though she hated deception, she silently applauded her partner’s ability on that score. This time the ends did justify the means, a rare occasion in Heather books. Mala Suerte’s intel had been right on the button.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

“Four of them?” Damn. Whoever was looking to cause trouble tonight was rolling deep. Zita let out a curse when Tempo called out the destination. Horizon Labs was already being protected by powerful security systems and agents around the building, but that did not mean the four vans were not a threat. There was no telling who or what was inside of them. “East bound, ninety seconds. I’m on it.” Ninety seconds was not a lot of time for most people especially since it was a whole block away. It was quite the run even for a trained athlete since the fatigue factor was an issue. Luckily for her fatigue would be of no concern once she used her powers. As she took off in a full sprint Zita touched her mask to shift into a fiberglass form. It was lighter than metal which would allow her to run faster. Now that she did not have to worry about running out of breath, the Latina kicked it into high gear.

The first of the two vans rounded a corner going just a little bit over the speed limit. Zita stood in the middle of the street holding up her SHIELD badge in plain view for the driver to see. Instead of slowing down like a normal, unsuspicious person would do, the guy stepped on the gas. “I was hoping you’d do that.” Zita put away the badge and brought her assault rifle to shoulder. She flicked off the safety and waited for the perfect shot to line up. Once she had it, she pulled the trigger to release a quick, three round burst. The left front tire of the van blew out violently, causing the driver to lose control. He swerved trying his best to regain control, but the van t-boned another vehicle, flipped onto one side and slammed into the ground. The van behind it continued on its path with every intention to run her down. Zita briefly returned to flesh before instantly turning into steel.

Just before the van could make contact, she brought knee up high then kicked out. The front end of the van folded in on itself from the impact, forcing the vehicle to come to a complete stop in front of her. The driver… that poor bastard ended up flying right through the windshield and into the street behind her. “That’s why you should always buckle up, penedejo.” As she walked around to the back of the van Zita contacted her partner. “I got mine, what about you?” She pried open the back doors and received a face full of bullets. Zita stumbled backwards more from surprise than the force of the metal chipping away at her body. Four well-armed men were stationed inside. “This is starting to get real annoying.” The moment that their clips went empty, she stepped inside and closed the doors behind her. A moment later the groans and screams began as the van rocked.
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Tempo
Unregistered

A dark streak in a dark sky, Tempo rushed unseen towards her targets with a plan of attack ready in her mind. At roughly 200kph and 50 meter up, she passed the two vans in the opposite direction to heir travel. She performed a half loop bringing her to ground level and changing her flight direction to chase the vans. The chase only lasted a second as she flew past on the left, guns blazing as she blasted the tires out of both vans. A U-turn had her once more passing the vans down the right and blasting the tires on that side too.

The two black vans screeched to a halt on their rims, gouging furrows in the tar seal as they did. Guns back in thigh holsters and shock sticks drawn; Tempo landed and walked up to the rear door of the rear van. By her own perception, she was stalking calmly up to the vehicle. A small red number in her visor displayed 6; this was the extent of how much she was twisting her temporal flow. Tempo was moving through the world six times faster than everything else, and that was just warming up.

The rear door of the van opened up and four heavily armed and heavily armoured met jumped out. That was all they got a chance to do. Each offender was wrapped head to toe in black body, helmet - the works. It would have been a credible Helghast cosplay. Each carried enough guns to compensate for a legion of Church full of eunuchs. They never got the chance to fire a single shot.

Tempo was dismayed at the armour; there was no exposed skin in which her shock sticks would be effective. That would have been the easy way out for the would-be bad guys. The 6 climbed to 8. As the first gunman put foot to ground Tempo went to work. She slipped the shock sticks into their sheathes as she spun on the ball of one foot, her other sweeping out the feet of her first opponent. Gunman 2 got his knees broken from Tempo side kick. Gunman 1 sill falling got his head kicked in next. Tempo then punched out breaking the right elbow of Gunman 2, and then her knee rose and broke his face. Gunman 3 jumped out over the body of Gunman 1 to get a triple kick from Tempo, left elbow then head then left knee. Gunman 4 was left to receive a roundhouse kick. She didn’t have time to double check if each gunman was unconscious so she broke the finger on each of the eight hands, stepping on the back of the hand and lifting the fingers up with four fold crack each time.

She walked down the side of the van and just as the driver jumped from his seat and hefted gun, Tempo’s heel met his face and a second quick kick drove his head into the side of the van.

The time warping mutant had enough time to see one of the soldiers who had jumped from the first van aim a bazooka at her and fire. The rocket propelled warhead comfortable zipped past her dodging form and sailed almost perfectly straight down the street where it would eventually explode creating just one more pothole.

“They got Bazzookas” Tempo radioed the simple statement to her partner. 8 flowed past 9 and up to 10 as she reached for the height of her ability.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

When she was done, all four men were laid out unconscious in the back of the van. She could have easily killed them all, but that was completely unnecessary and killing was not something she did willy nilly these days. She only killed when it was necessary. One guy was out cold with a broken and busted face, another had fainted from the pain of two broken arms, the third was knocked out when she ran his head damn near through the roof of the van, and the last guy was choked out. He was the luckiest of the four since it was quick and relatively painless. The doors of the van opened back up and Zita stepped out. “These boys are packing some serious artillery,” she reported. “Professionals by the look of it. These ain’t the kind of guns you can get on the streets.” Well some of them were, if one knew the right places to look. Some of the guns back home in her personal stash had been bought off the street.

When she turned to check out the occupants of the other van, one of them was kneeled in the middle of the road with what looked like a… “Fucking hell.” Zita flew backwards after the rocket exploded right in the center of her chest. Just how many times in her life would she have to be subject to a fucking rocket? This was the, well she had lost count of how many times she had been on the business end of a rocket launcher. The Latina rolled across the pavement a few times before coming to a stop.

”They got bazookas.”

“You don’t say.” Zita sighed even though there was no intake or expulsion of air, simply an instinctive reaction given the situation. She got back to her feet having already healed the damage that was done. The guy that had fired on her was loading up another round. “Oh hell nal, cabrón.” He was wearing body armor which would make her bullets little more than high speed battering rams. His legs looked like they contained the least amount of protection. Zita pulled out the non-lethal sidearm, aimed, and then fired. A single round flew through the air, the casing fell away mid-flight. There was a brief spark of light when the round impacted Bazooka Joe’s leg. What followed was a debilitating amount of electricity coursing through his body. While he was left to deal with that, his four buddies were already firing at her. Thankfully there was no one on the street, at least no one that she was aware of anyway.

Zita practically flew through the air to deliver a jumping straight kick to one guy’s face followed by a snap kick to his chin. The force of the attack flipped him backwards and onto his chest. The wind was knocked right out of him. All the bulletproof armor in the world would not be enough to keep them safe from her melee attacks. She was working with several tons of power. There was no way in Hell they could resist her blows. One of three remaining opponents rushed her with a hail of gunfire from a damn nice assault rifle. Had she been in a weaker form her body would have been riddled with holes. Zita grabbed the barrel of the gun and bent it backwards. She then pulled his face down onto a knee, breaking the mask concealing his identity and… well his identity. The guy’s face was a wreck now, nose misshapen and bloody, lip split, and eye already swelling up like a balloon. “You two might as well just give up, spare yourselves the pain.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” One of them pulled a small device from his belt then tossed it right at her.

Zita went to swat whatever it was away, but the device exploded, showering her in an intense amount of light which left her temporarily blinded. “Asshole!” His buddy tackled her to the ground in the confusion. What happened next was unexpected. She heard something click into place around her right wrist during the struggle. Almost immediately she could feel her lungs expand, body become lighter. “Hijo de puta!” Zita was no longer metal, but ordinary flesh and bone. She had made the rookie mistake of being overconfident and underestimating her opponents, so now she had to pay the price. She threw up her guard to block the incoming ground pound from the guy pinning her down. “Careful,” she said to Tempo. “They’ve got,” she locked his arm under hers, “null tech.” Zita then thrust the side of her hand up into his exposed neck as hard as she possibly could, an attack that all but destroyed the windpipe to cut off air supply.
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Tempo
Unregistered

It was a simple tactic for a simple situation. Tempo in her black suit flew straight up into the night sky. Black on black, she was damn near invisible to the naked eye. She suspected that her attackers may have had night vision just like her, so as quickly as she went up, she came back down.

It wasn’t straight down however. Tempo came in from the side and as she did so, planted both feet on the chest of Gunman 6 in a mighty kick that sent him flying. She spun to her side in a roundhouse that took Gunman 7 down in what was definitely a broken face despite the helmet. It might have also been a broken neck. Gunman 8 was grabbing some small device from his belt but Tempo was so much faster. She pulled a Glock from its holster, took aim, and fired a single round though his wrist. The device fell in slow motion to the ground. Tempo spun 180 and put another bullet down the barrel of the bazooka aimed at her by Gunman 9. She was again in the air and down in front of the van as the explosion from the prematurely detonated rocket tore apart bazooka and wielder. The explosion from the flash-bang grenade quickly followed sending Gunman 8 into the warm oblivion of unconsciousness. The driver of the first van fell to déjà vu as Tempo’s next kick sent his head colliding with the van, the same as the previous driver.

The black clad Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, letting the effort of space/time distortion drop away, stalked over to the body of Gunman 6 who was struggling with multiple broken ribs and probable internal organ failure. “Who…” He gurgled as blood filled his throat.

“I’m Batman” was Tempo’s reply, sticking her fingers up beside her head to mimic Batman’s trademark ears.
She knelt down and rifled through pockets and pouches, removing weapons of various descriptions until she dug out something she did not recognise. It looked like half a handcuff, a metal circlet of some high-tech design.

“Careful,” she said to Tempo. “They’ve got,” she locked his arm under hers, “null tech.”

“So that’s what this is, mmm shiny”. Tempo turned the device over in her hand with curiosity. “Wait, did you…never mind I’m done here. This seems too easy, what are we missing?” She didn’t worry for her partner; Tempo after all was the junior here, by a long mile. If Mala Suerte needed backup, she knew to ask.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

“I don’t know, but these bastards got one on me.” While the guy grasped at his throat, Zita pulled his sidearm and opened fire on his partner that had been waiting to get a clean shot off. The bullets impacted his armor, but lack the power to penetrate. While he stumbled to find cover, Zita pried the helmet off the man on top of her then drove the butt of the gun into the side of his head. She quickly moved from her prone position and emptied the rest of the clip at his partner. “Dammit!” She hated not having access to her powers. It made her feel weak and defenseless, two words that held no descriptive truth when it came to the ex-mercenary. Even though she could no longer throw buses around or survive nuclear explosions, she was still a very capable warrior. The training she received back in the army and on her own time was more than enough for her to survive with. She tried to pull the cuff off, but no luck. It looked like it needed some kind of remote to deactivate.

Zita pulled free her Beretta then blind fired from her defensive position in front of a parked car. She looked out to see where the hell the guy was at only to see that the rocket launcher bastard was getting back to his feet, the effects of the shock pads wearing off. “Tempo, get your sweet chocolate ass over here now!” Popping in a fresh clip she momentarily thought about trying to shoot the damn cuff off, but then she ran the risk of blowing a hole in her hand, something she would not be able to heal. Zita fired a couple of times with the Beretta before switching to her assault rifle. Time to move to another spot. Being pinned down brought back some memories from her time in Afghanistan. During one outing, damn near her whole squad was taken out by a sniper that ended up pinning her in place behind a dumpster. She could go anyway because the bastard had a bead on her in every direction that she tried to go. Thankfully backup arrived just in time to clear a path.

With her powers, Tempo should arrive in no time. When there was a break in return fire, Zita bolted out of cover and just in the nick of time too because a rocket collided with the car she had been hiding behind. The concussive force blew her right into the side of another vehicle. She groaned while getting back to her feet. Her back felt like someone had hit her with a damn caveman club. If it was not for the armored suit she wore that would have hurt a lot more. “Alright puto, you’re dead!” She was not supposed to kill anyone, but right now it was kind of necessary. That son of a bitch probably had more rockets ready to fire. Zita marched forward, finger heavy on the trigger.
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Tempo
Unregistered

Tempo hadn’t been expecting the party invitation, but she knew that when she got it, she was already late.

“Tempo, get your sweet chocolate ass over here now!”

“Copy That”. Tempo headed skyward like a ballistic rocket, minus the pyrotechnics. She reached for everything she had to give well aware that every single second counted. A quick flick of verbal commands brought up the map of Zita’s position with hostiles surrounding her.

“ETA 20 seconds, I’ll be coming in hot”. Heavy air pried at Tempo as she flew beyond the 550MPH mark but she pushed through with all her energy. Hopefully Miss Rivera could keep herself safe long enough to see the success of her backup.

She came in low with the last of the targets lined up. She drew both her combat knives and fought the air resistance that briefly tried to tear them free. As she passed her first target, she let go the knife sending like a bullet into his thigh. The sheer impact of half a pound of steel travelling at 500 mph took him off his feet and shattered femur. The guy with the bazooka got an identical hit through his knee as Rivera’s bullets took him in the chest. If either lived, neither would likely walk again.

Free of active attackers, Tempo flew back around and slowed down enough to land. For her effort she was vaguely out of breath but if that was the worst she had to suffer, then she had performed well. Tempo walked from body to body, making sure each was unconscious for now. She only had to kick one guy to make it so. She retrieved her two knives and noted the guy with the thigh impact would probably bleed to death fairly soon, she didn’t have a medic kit handy nor did she have a fuck to give. With the zone finally clear, only then did she approach her partner.

“Let’s get this thing off you. I promise I won’t even tell anyone.” Tempo slid the face of he helmet up so Zita could see her grin, a rare sight. “It’s not your colour anyway”.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

Those 20 seconds seemed to fly right by her. Zita looked up as a gold and black streak speed through the air. The first attacker was taken down by a knife to the leg, and his partner fell right after him. Zita lifted her finger from the trigger just as the guy fell to the ground to keep from getting a lethal shot to his exposed neck. Even though she had screamed for the guy’s death she did not really mean it. Had he caught her a year or so back then she most certainly would have killed him without a second thought. Both men were down and out for the count as well as their buddies. The street looked like a miniature war zone with all of the bodies scattered everywhere and wrecked vehicles. A cleanup crew was going to have to come take care of all of this cause she sure as hell was not about to do it. “Nice work,” she said to Tempo when the woman landed.

“I fucking hate being nulled. It’s like having someone rip a piece of you away. And I would know what that’s like since I’ve had an arm ripped off before. Check their bodies. This thing looks remote activated.” Zita walked over to one of the guys to begin rifling through his pockets. All she found on the first guy was some spare ammo, a blade, and a pack of mint gum. She kept the gum. Moving on to the next guy he was still struggling to stay conscious from the hurting that was just put on him. Zita pulled his helmet off then slapped him. “Wake up. I need to ask you a couple of questions.” As she dragged him out of the middle of the street to a less visible spot, the guy groaned as the grogginess started to fade. “Who do you work for?” she asked.

He looked up at her with a grin. “None of your damn business, bitch.”

She sighed. “I see we’re going to do this the hard way. Just remember, you brought this on yourself.” Zita grabbed the index and middle finger of his right hand and snapped them back. He screamed out from the pain. “Who do you work for?” she asked again.

“Screw off!” he yelled, cradling his messed up hand.

Zita looked over to Tempo. “You might want to go stand over there for a bit. What I’m about to do ain’t exactly ‘protocol’. Plausible deniability and all that.” Of the two, Tempo was the proper agent. The only reason Zita was an agent of SHIELD was because of the Thunderbolt program. She was still something of a criminal despite the very long leash. She pulled the combat knife from the sheath at her back. “What I love about this blade is the way that is glides through flesh like warm butter. Here, let me demonstrate for you.” Grabbing hold of his ear, she began carving into the flesh, completely ignoring his screams and pleas for mercy. She did not stop until the ear was free from his body. “Oh stop your whining. You only need one to hear anyway.” She casually tossed it aside. “Now, who do you work for?”

Holding the side of his head, blood seeping through fingers, he stared up at her. “I don’t know.”

“Dios mío, usted tonto testarudo.” Zita rammed the blade straight through his left shoulder, pulled it free and grabbed his other ear so that she could remove it as well.

“I don’t know!” he yelled. “It was an anonymous hire!”

She paused. “Go on.”

“We-we got a call from some guy saying he would pay us a shit load of money to hit that fucking mutant lab place. He wired us half the money right away so we said yes. He didn’t leave a name, but we got a number.”

“What’s the number?” she asked.

“Five five five zero one eight five.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll be back to finish what I started.” Zita flipped the knife around and struck him in the temple with the hilt to knock him out cold.
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Tempo
Unregistered

Tempo rifled through pockets, patches, and pouches. The only thing she found that looked remotely like a remote was the remote for the van. She tried it anyway and was not remotely surprised that the van refused to lock the doors when they were still open. In the end, the only thing of remote worth was the first aid kit she found under the driver’s seat. She took it over to the guy with the leg injury and made a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding. If he lost his leg, it was still better than bleeding to death from a severed femoral artery. She hadn’t really wanted to kill the guy anyway, even though logistically, a dead body was less hassle than a live prisoner. Tempo was too professional and just didn’t have that bloodlust.

The black clad agent walked over to her partner just as she wrapped things up. “I heard a 555 number. Sounds like a trap to me. I mean any two bit perp knows to use disposable cell phones. A landline is too easy to trace. But whoever orchestrated this would know that we would know so…it could also just be an empty lead. Oh and yeah, no remote thingy sorry, you might have to stay nulled for awhile.” Tempo shrugged apologetically. Maybe Agent Zita should have asked one more question before she hit the guy in the temple.

“Don’t suppose you want to try interrogating another or the percussive maintenance technique? We got a tire iron back there.” It wasn’t fair to leave her partner nulled, and she really did want to help.
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Mala Suerte
Unregistered

“Yea, but it won’t hurt to try anyway. I would hate to pass up a lead even if it a long shot.” Looking down at the null cuff she grumbled. “You sure you didn’t find any damn thing? Fuck.” Leaving the man behind she walked over to another one, the guy whose throat she had crushed. She slapped him twice to get him back conscious. “I’m only going to ask once and so help me God it better be the right fucking answer. Where the hell is the remote to this thing?”

The guy tried to say something, but no sound other than a disgusting gurgling came out. Maybe she should not have been so quick to hit him that hard. The guy then pointed down to his pants. “My partner already checked all of ya’ll’s pockets,” she said while reaching for her knife again. He shook his head and pointed to his pants again. Zita stared at him blankly. “You have got to be kidding me.” Sighing, she undid the front of his pants and reached right into his briefs. She fiddled around for a second until she grabbed something small and hard. She pressed and the cuff fell right off her wrist. Instantly she started to feel better like a piece of her had returned. Being nulled reminded her of the time she spent as a prisoner, a time she hated dearly. “That’s one hell of a place to stash something. We would have thought to search their drawers.”

“Tempo, give that number a ring. You,” she said looking down at the mercenary, “go back to sleep.” The heel of boot came crashing down into his face. Zita flexed her hand a couple of times as she shifted it through several forms. Man it felt good to have her powers back. Next time she would not underestimate an opponent no matter how much of an advantage she thought herself to have. With their job done she put in a call to headquarters. “Yea this is agent Rivera… the older one, we’re going to need a clean up crew down here.”

”Already en route to your location. Standby.”

“Alright.” Closing the line, Zita momentarily removed her mask as she leaned against the side of the overturned van. “Me vendría bien una ducha ahora mismo.”
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