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I spy; Open
Topic Started: Jul 10 2014, 08:07 PM (445 Views)
Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

Time: 2400 hours. Midnight. First of July.
Place: Upscale club named Eve.

When you work in intelligence, there is a lot of waiting around. You spend the vast majority of your time simply observing and taking notes, this can mean sitting in a car outside of Mac Donalds with a pair of binoculars, watching your target order a double cheeseburger, with a side of fries and a strawberry milkshake, or it can mean breaking into your targets apartment to set up cameras and then simply watching them go about their day. Targets, whether it's a supposed traitor to the government, or a foreign terrorist, surprisingly do not sit around all day and giggle evilly while talking loudly about their plans for world domination. Mostly they eat, sleep, sit on the internet and call their grandparents. All in all, most of an intelligence operative's work is about as dull as watching paint dry, after you do it a couple of times.

Today, Ruth's current target was behaving a bit more interestingly. He had received a call about two hours ago, which had him visibly upset. Not that anyone who hadn't been spying on him for a week would know. Sameer Al-Zahawi appeared to everyone in his party, to be having a good time, smiling widely, but all Ruth could see in that smile was too many teeth. He looked like a shark, trying to pass it self off as a seal. Everyone in his party has been drinking liberally already and by now everyone was at least little drunk.

Ruth had positioned herself at the bar, dressed for the occasion she was wearing a tiny cocktail dress that would make her not-on-the-job-self cringe and pull at it till it went down past her thighs. Not that she was a prude, she just preferred not to be dressed in something that couldn't easily pass off as a nightgown. If she had her way, she would always be in a pair of cargo pants, with a t-shirt and sneakers with greater traction than these three inch heels. But, she was not Ruth Bat-Seraph former Israeli government agent, with training in how to kill someone in fifty different ways with a butter-knife. Tonight she was exactly who she needed to be to be dressed like this and feel comfortable.

Sameer was sitting in a VIP corner with a man who had each of his arms around girls, who looked like their IDs were probably as real as their nose jobs. The man was probably a business associate, but not one Ruth had spotted with Sameer on earlier occasions. So either this man was not important enough for Sameer to see on a regular basis, or he was so important that he didn't allow himself to be seen on a regular basis.

To keep up appearances, Ruth was striking up conversations with whoever sat next to her and only gazed at the VIP section sporadically, while either appearing to brush her hair from her eyes, securing a strap in her shoes, or while laughing at one of her companions jokes.

It would not be wise to be caught looking too many times, because while Sameer usually was a friendly man with a gentle temper, he had killed more than one Mossad government agent by digging his fingers into their eyes and swirling his fingers around. Not a pleasant way to die and one of Ruth's weak spots were her eyes.
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

It was that hour when the nightly events usually got interesting, people had bought their drugs from the men’s bathroom hours ago, the underage drinkers were on their way to a series of bad decisions and before the night would end there would surely be a couple fights between drunken patrons. But that was to be expected, even at this glamorous locale, all bars and clubs had their seedy under belly, drugs like alcohol went along with all the other illegal actions that was just how it worked, whether anyone wanted to admitted. It was a stepping stone into a dark world that any town or city to had to offer, aside from binge drinkers and seasoned alcoholics. Establishments that profited off liquor sales where notorious for catering to the needs of high ranking criminals, sometimes they were the ones running the show.

But he wasn’t the one. This was merely a pit stop for Pierce, while he did enjoy his drink and the nightlife that New York City had to offer, he was more of an uptown, martini bar kind of gentlemen, and he would even prefer the familiarity of the Club over the likes of this sink hole. It was filled with people he wouldn’t see fit to step foot in his home, let alone mingle with and try to have a stellar time.

Positioned in a VIP booth, he whispered sweet nothings into the pair of ears he had under each arm, buying them drink after drink just to see what their breaking point would me. He would get more amusement from that, opposed to doing something as ludicrous as taking them home. Instead he just built them up, preparing them for their inevitable fall. This was a social call, a favor really but it did have the potential for future business, which was tempting in its own right. Pierce had met Sameer Al-Zahawi in a recent game of poker, one of his favorite pass times with his fellow elite members of society and was invited to join in the festivities this fine July evening.

Donald didn’t bother to memorize the occasion.

Instead, he decided to stay for a drink or two(or ten), sow the seeds with kind words and promises, then, the night would continue to who knows when.

It didn’t really matter. He was on the scotch indefinitely and was complacent with that.

It was all shots and laughter and wonder, blissful even. Wasn’t this part of the dream, things people strode for in life, the celebration, the reason to and capital to do so? It seemed trivial to Pierce, and he was cynical of the whole situation but he hid it well. It was probably the tarnish from that silver spoon, arrogance pretty much radiated off his tailored attire.

As he peered around the room, like a predator seeking out prey, his mind wandered to a place unusual and for a moment he wondered what Stacy was up to.
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

Meeting at a club was a stroke of genius on Sameers part. It made it severely difficult for Ruth to do her job. The loud, pumping, loud music made it impossible for her to hear the conversation being had, the open area around the VIP seats made it impossible for Ruth to get any closer, than she was, without being very noticeable both to the people in the seats, and the six feet two security guard. Plus it was a public place, lots of innocents around that made great hostages for the Israeli terrorist. Pulling a slight face, Ruth considered the thought that she might have been made. Sameer might not know it was her, but he might know he was being followed, or at least suspect it.

Lifting her glass of something called a Cosmopolitan to her lips, Ruth risked a glance towards the area again. The business man was clearly placating Sameer, he had no more serious intentions with the terrorist than the girls whom he had wrapped around his little finger, they were hanging on his every word. If he turns up the charms any more, those girls might wet themselves from excitement. One of them was almost begging to crawl into his lap. Teenagers. Ruth's years and years of experience with undercover work was the only thing holding her from rolling her eyes and scoffing loudly.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Fingers around her arm.

Barely restraining herself from tossing the man across the room, Ruth turned back to her present company. He was five foot nine, brown hair, grey eyes, 30 years old tops and if she wasn't on a mission, not someone she would talk to. Mostly because of his bloodshot grey eyes, that told Ruth the only reason he came here was to score. Probably cocain. A drug favored by blue collars and white collars a like. "Of course. You were telling me about your mother. She sounds lovely."

"I hate the fucking bitch"

Exactly.

At the VIP area Sameers attempt at looking like a cheerful non-homocidal-maniac, was slowly falling a part. His facade was getting more and more strained while the man slowly turned more and more red from anger. The American was not listening to him, not enough anyway. Sameer demanded peoples full attention but this man was more interested in his whores than Sameers sacred war! Finally he hammered his drink down into the small glass table in the VIP area, stood and started shouting. Ruth could faintly catch the words 'America dog', 'You will take me seriously' and then with a rush of fabric, the man threw off his suit jacket and pulled open his button-down shirt. Revealing a bomb.

The club didn't go quiet all at once, nor did it explode into chaos in the first twenty seconds after Sameer had disrobed.

First, one of the business man's girls screamed. This caught the attention of a few patrons and before Ruth knew it, the words; "He has a bomb!" was screamed through the entire club and people were falling all over themselves to get the fuck out of there. Her companion deserted her to presumably die in an explosion and so much for love at first sight huh, and soon the club was completely empty. Except for Ruth, Sameer, the business man and his two girls, who had not been permitted to leave with the others by Sameer, who was holding a dead man's switch in his hand.

"You will listen to me!" he hollered, trying to outshout the music that was still pumping, even though the DJ had left his booth two minutes ago.
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

Blissfully ignorant to the short fuse Sameer possessed, he continued on with the two young ladies. Their eyes were bright, their smiles genuine, they were as fresh as any young, naïve, party girl could be. They asked him all sorts of questions that translated into ‘how much money do you make’ and he was willing to indulge them with the styling’s of his penthouse, the car he would drive from here in and other mundane facts all regarding wealth.

Shamelessly, of course.

He enjoyed talking about himself, his words flowed as freely as the champagne, it was one of his favorite and well versed topics. So of course he was annoyed and it was apparent when Sameer rudely slammed his glass down and rose from his seat like a bat out of hell.

He wasn’t impressed with being interrupted firstly and he made his displeasure apparent without words, a scowl was all he needed. Just who the hell did this guy think he was …but Donald bit his tongue and allowed the man to go off on his little fit.

Egomania aside, now high powered explosives were in the equation.

Sipping on his drink rather casually, he didn’t even stand from his seat, in fact he had an eerily, calm aura to him, like he knew something that Sameer did not. Smug and arrogant to the very end, he eyed the bomb strapped to the man’s chest judgmentally, he wasn’t even sure if such a close range explosion would kill him, surely it would damage his frame, but he could be repaired. Regardless he wasn’t in a hurry to find out. Additionally, he had no desire to be linked to any sort of this kind of violent behaviour.

“How dare you pull me into this insanity, do you realize who I am and how foolish you are?” Of course Sameer was aware of his more official titles and roles as a CEO and mining guru, but his place in the Hellfire Club, alongside his cybernetic nature, remained a secret. Despite the loudness in the club, the scream had been unintentionally directed into his ear drum and he pushed the two women away from him, but they don’t move far, terrified and uncertain what to do.

Surely the authorities had been alerted, so he poured himself another drink.

“Quiet.” He muttered to one of them, “The adults are talking.” That was all he said, he didn’t offer much more as empathy or assurance. If they wanted to live, they would keep their mouths shut. Hysteria followed, people climbing and pushing over one another to exit the club, high probabilities of intoxication only seemed to add to their survival instinct. Silently he observed it all, the crowds of drunken patrons, staff and even the DJ fled for the exit and his eyes caught the figure of someone who looked much like him.

Her demeanor was calm and collected, she wasn’t fleeing with the rest. The lone woman in a cocktail dress stood tall and confidently across from them and he met eyes were her for a bit until finally giving Sameer the attention he wanted.

He lightly chuckled to himself, he could find a small fragment of appreciation for such a bold move even if he was currently caught in the crossfire, but he remained relaxed, with a leg loosely rested over the other knee. “You are on the wrong side of the globe, friend, do you honestly think this is how things work over here?” His drink met his lips again, that cool, aura of confidence never faltered as he engaged the hostile man with a bomb strapped to his chest from the comfort of his seat.

“And if you think you are bringing me down with you, well, you got another thing coming.” He nodded over past Sameer’s shoulder, in the direction of the lone woman in that perfectly, fitting cocktail dress.

“Tell me that’s a friend of yours?”
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

Frustrated, that the American wasn't the least bit worried about the homemade explosives Sameer had duct-tapped to his chest, quite the opposite. The American looked relaxed and smug still, even in this situation. The girls however, the girls were scared for their lives and both were cowering on the couch next to the American who was still just sipping his drink nonchalantly like there wasn't a man threatening to blow him - and his whores - to tiny little American bits.

"I was told you are a serious business man," Sameer answered, with a horrible Israeli accent, which clearly told Ruth exactly how upset he was, because Sameer could speak english perfectly fine. But right now he wasn't even bothering to. "I was told you were willing to do business, but I see that you are nothing but an arrogant American dog!" With what information Ruth had already gathered, she was guessing Sameer had wanted to make an arrangement ,for help with shipping weapons from Israel to America via some kind of mining operation. When the American pushed the girls away, one erupted into tears, which made Sameer pull a gun on her. "SILENCE!" the girl just wailed and hid her face in her hands, sobbing without even caring about her make-up.

Luckily, for the girl, Sameer turned the gun on the American when he chuckled. "I think you will hear me better now, that is what I think," Sameer said, crocking the gun down on the side but still pointing it decidedly at the American. What he needed the gun for, when he already had a bomb tied to his chest, Ruth could not understand. "I am not going to bring you down, you heathen, I'm going to ransom you." Oh. So that had obviously been plan B all along. Money for the organization.

“Tell me that’s a friend of yours?”

Too late, Ruth realized that she should've at least hid or something when the crowd had started panicking. But instead, she had apparently been moving closer. The bomb wouldn't kill her, probably, but the girls would most certainly not see their 19'th birthdays if she allowed that bomb to go off and that worry had made her instinctively move closer to the VIP area. A rookie mistake and Ruth could've slapped herself.

"You! Get over here!" Sameer demanded, now pointing the gun at Ruth, who raised her arms and walked up to the small gathering. Since the music ran out and the club was now silenced, all that could be heard was the steady click-clack of her heels on the floor. "She is not with me, she must be with you!" Sameer decided, and Ruth glanced at the business man shortly, before she opened her mouth. "I'm his bodyguard." she answered, which made Sameer laugh, like it was some kind of really funny joke. His laugh had a hint of hysteria to it.

"YOU?! You are just a tiny girl!"

"I'm travel sized." And in fact six feet tall, and in these heels even a little taller than Sameer, but in his eyes, all girls were small, puny things.

"If you are a bodyguard, put your weapons on the table." Sameer demanded, not reacting to the travel-sized comment. Ruth reached beneath her dress and tugged out a tiny, semi-automatic gun she had in a thigh strap, before putting it on the table.
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

Surprisingly enough he hadn’t gone off the handle yet, that alone was a feat to be proud of but when the music finally stopped and Donald could hear the insults flying immaculately, his coolness began to fade, his drink never left the proximity to his lips for easy drinking. Every time he felt the need to mouth off, he simply took a drink. The glass was about half full, he could be an optimistic like that and it was then he decided that once he was finished his drink, this moronic fool would be out of time. For now, Pierce let the man have the floor that he so desperately wanted and for the two women?

They could cry their eyes out in fear and Donald wouldn’t even bat an eye. Their safety was not one of his priorities, they had outgrown their usefulness and were now nothing but a sobbing liability. His biggest concern was getting out of this situation and soon, hopefully it would be in one piece.

“I like to get to know people before I bring them into my circle and I can’t say that you are passing the test.” That was all he said for the time being, he didn’t think he owed this madman anymore of an explanation or an apology and as he barked even more poorly pronounced English, Donald’s eye slightly twitched, repressing his urge to pull the arm and it’s trigger finger entirely free from where it connected with the shoulder. Surely that would shut Sameer up, he imagined the reaction, the sounds and couldn’t help to smile.

But he didn’t move, he barely even reacted when a pistol was drawn and eventually turned on him. Instead he continued to sip on his drink, trying not to choke on the liquid when Sameer’s true intentions were finally brought to the surface. He scoffed at the man in disbelief and slowly shook his head a couple times. His glass almost empty, he decided to insult the man regardless of the consequences, “Me?” he could barely contain himself.

Offended, he continued on “This is your grand scheme? You are completely mad or entirely stupid...”

And then, the mysterious woman was ushered over at gunpoint and when she was addressed, the words she spoke truly put Pierce over the edge of practicality.

His attempt to deflect Sameer`s attention to someone else had failed, to top it off she had thrown Donald right under the bus. Now he appeared like a liar, an untrusting sort and he was, but he never liked to get caught in such behaviour.
His hand clamped around the glass, cracking it down one side entirely, but it didn’t break, yet anyway. Pierce didn’t say anything to her directly, but he offered her one fierce scowl, the word used to define female dogs escaped his lips on his breath. Even more distrust and annoyance radiated from his features when she gave her up weapon, “Fantastic, just fucking fantastic.”

With his drink gone, slowly Donald rose to his feet, he stood just shy of 6’2 but he wasn’t an overly bulky fellow. Surely many people just saw the tailored suits and a hefty inheritance and would make the assumption that Pierce was soft, a weak, easy target. “You’ve run out of time.”

“So tell me, are you going to bark all day little doggie or are you going to bite?” He was feeling generous, maybe Sameer would get to keep that arm.

He stared the man down, thinking that maybe he would have the stones to take a shot at him, but Donald knew he would a survive a 9mm slug without missing a beat, but a large scale explosion was something he wasn’t prepared to gamble on. He didn’t bother to give the women being held at the table a moment of his focus, they had proven themselves useless and he snatched out at the hand holding the trigger with uncanny speed.

Inhuman speed.
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

The bodyguard excuse was just that, an excuse. As to why she hadn't run like the other civilians, most people ran when someone shouted 'bomb', and it wasn't like she could say 'oh I stuck around because I'm a Shield Operative and there are still civilians in this bar, so I'm going to try to stop you from killing them, k?', not that she would've said it like that, even if that were an option. The business man seemed highly agitated about her lie though, but to his credit, he didn't try and deny it, he must've realized that even if he tried to deny it now, it would just seem as if he was trying to get out of this situation.

When he scowled at her, Ruth, acting the part of a hired bodyguard, looked appropriately ashamed of having outted herself as his bodyguard. If she hadn't been acting the part, she would've probably glared right back at him. He was the one who caused her mission to fail this spectacularly, even if he wasn't aware of it. If he had shown Sameer even a smidgen of respect earlier this could've all been a regular stake-out night for Ruth. As he stood, and proclaimed that Sameer had run out of time, Ruth got a very bad gut feeling. This business man had the look of someone who was about to take the situation into his own, untrained in dealing with terrorist, hands.

"So tell me, are you going to bark all day little doggie or are you going to bite?"

"You shut your whore kissing mouth!" Sameer shouted, hysterically, pointing the gun at the mans head, it was shaking slightly with anger. The girls moved together on the couch and were now holding each other for support. They were probably friends from school, wearing matching bracelets and had probably done each others make-up before they left from home, their hearts filled with hopes of meeting their true love at a party tonight. Too bad their prime option for this at the moment, didn't give a hoot and half about whether or not they were viciously killed in an explosion.

Having superhuman reflexes had it's perks. It made her able to catch a dropped cup before it shattered on the ground, made her capable of handling herself when she was running at her max speed, and it also made her able to react to what the business man was doing, before he had a chance to actually do it. Even if he had inhuman speed, she had superhuman.

Throwing herself between Sameer and the business man, Ruth grabbed the business mans hand, the one which was going towards the hand with which Sameer was holding a dead mans switch. Catching it between his pointing finger and his thumb, Ruth swung herself around and twisted his hand up behind his back almost as far as it would go without snapping bones, but still be exceedingly painful, and held it. Effectively stopping him. "Are you insane?!" She hissed. "That is a dead mans switch! If his finger leaves that button, you and the girls are dead!" just for good measure, she cranked his arm a little bit more. "Do. Not. Touch. It."

Sameer, a little shaken by the speed of both of his captives, pulled back from both of them. "How you move so fast?!" he wanted to know. "Tell me!" he pointed his gun towards both of them, Ruth still hidden behind the business man. "Your bitch is right Mr. Pierce, you try anything like that again, and I let go, this entire place becomes a hole in the ground! A hole in the ground that will be your graves!"

Letting go of Pierce when she was sure he wasn't going to attempt that again, Ruth slipped away from behind him, and put herself squarely in front of the civilian girls. "I'm a mutant." Ruth admitted, Sameer couldn't be placated with a lie, and what would she even say?

"Unpure!" Sameer bellowed, aiming his gun at Ruth. Good. Over at the bar, a phone started ringing. Probably either the New York police, or a hostage negotiator.
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

"You shut your whore kissing mouth!"

“Quaint.” He responded back to Sameer as he reached out for the hand holding the switch. He wasn’t concerned with the lives of the occupants of the blast radius and why should he be? They were insignificant. He wasn’t even entirely certain he would survive the explosion either, but Pierce knew that his odds were higher than anyone else in the room. That was enough for him to gamble on. He could walk off the explosion and make a leisurely escape out the back exit without shredding a tear for those lost. An elevated sense of immortality was only surpassed by his substantial sense of self-importance; the answer to his problem seemed so obvious.

To hell with everyone else.

He’d much rather blow the fool to hell and scoop up the remaining splinters of bones and splatters of flesh. Perhaps he would send the remains to Israel via express post and send one hell of a message to any others who may wish to threaten him.

He wasn’t particularly used to being challenged by anyone, let alone someone with a bomb strapped to their chest, but he supposed it was a sign that he had made it if people wanted him dead or dying. Just as his hand was about to make contact with Sameer’s, he was stopped in his tracks, not a sensation he was accustomed to. He grinned widely at Sameer until his arm was twisted to levels of uncomfortableness that lead to a sharp, fiery pain in his remaining organic nerve tissue. Cocktail dress was strong, strong enough to cause him enough such discomfort that eventually led to very real pain.

He was impressed.

She restrained him like he was a small child, hissing sweet nothings into his ear as she did so, and Pierce reveled in her strength instead of resisting it, he acknowledged it. That dress, this place, none of this was an accident, even the sobbing girls had probably been planning to come here for weeks. “Insane? No, insane would be putting up with this blatant waste of skin any longer.” He replied over his shoulder, craning his neck a little to make sure she heard him clearly over the background cries of the jailbait.

There was no way this woman accidentally stumbled in here, maybe Sameer was blind to her true motives, but Pierce could see right through them, even more so when she jerked his arm more, just to establish that she was not to be trifled with. She was here for Sameer and Donald could not afford to be linked to the man. Sameer had backed off slightly though, like the coward he was and Donald pulled on his twisted arm a little and focused his words on the frightened, little man.

“We are not like you.” He kept the explanation vague, Sameer was welcome to make any conclusion he liked from it. “We don’t need explosives to make a point.”

Once freed from her grip, he straightened his attire and flattened out any wrinkles, paying extra attention to the sleeve that had been ruffled. “Is this how you treat hostages? Are you actually going to let this man get away with this?!” She moved away from him, putting her body in between the bomb and the two civilian girls. He huffed and puffed a little, uncertain with exactly how he was going to get away. And when Sameer aimed the gun at Ruth, Donald encouraged his behaviour wholeheartedly.

“You want money? Is that all it will take?” He retrieved his wallet from his pocket and with that same hand, extended it slowly towards Sameer whose hands were full. So he rested it on the table, it was only a couple thousand, but he could easily acquire more cash if that was it would take. “We can still walk away.” Donald offered the two girls behind Ruth a glance, insinuating that they might not be as lucky. Playing the two thorns in his side against each other seemed like his only option at the moment.

Then the phone behind the bar began to ring. “Oh, how wonderful. Her back up is here. She’s here for you, that much should be obvious. ” More than likely it was the police, or one of their many specialists. It was clear now. If Sameer was unwilling to compromise, the girls were probably his best ticket out of here. He checked his watch to irradiate his point.

“Time is ticking.”
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

“You want money? Is that all it will take?" - "We can still walk away.”

Glancing at the stack of bills in the business mans hands as he put them down on the table. "You mean to give me pocket-change?!" Although severely insulted, Sameer kept his gun on the inpure bitch/whore, deeming Ruth a bigger threat now. "You can walk away. When I get my money. I want 10 million." Nothing less would do, if he was to bring his organization to America. Turning his gaze away from the American, Sameer looked at Ruth again, with new eyes. And suddenly he saw it. Her hair wasn't usually curled, it was up in a ponytail, and she didn't dress like this.

Severely tempted to go back in, and break the arm she had previously twisted back behind his back, Ruth settled for sending the business man a glare that could've peeled paint off walls. From their interactions, it was now clear to even the meek girls sitting behind Ruth, that these two were not on the same team. And Sameer had figured it out too, this girl was no bodyguard and one word escaped his lips:

"Sabra." His eyes were wide, and his gun hand was visibly shaking as the man went pale. "You killed the entire Abduhl Azira organization" Sameer eyes stayed on Ruth as his mind reeled, the woman in front of him in a tiny cocktail dress, wearing heels and red lipstick, with long curly black hair had single-handedly and brutally murdered an organization counting fifty men, by breaking right into their head quarters and pulling them apart like rag-dolls. And then she had seemingly disappeared. Not to be heard of again, until she was here now. In a bar in New York.

“Oh, how wonderful. Her back up is here. She’s here for you, that much should be obvious. ”

As soon as Donald had said this, Ruth could see Sameer lowering his head. If he thought she had back-up outside, this little game of explosion-or-not was up. Swallowing, his thumb seemed to lift from the button in slow motion. Or maybe that was just her reflexes.

Launching herself forward, Ruth grabbed the hand with the dead mans switch and it all seemed to happen at once. Ruth crushed his thumb back down on the button, Sameer reacted by firing his gun directly into her stomach. It felt like being punched by someone with superstrenght, right in the gut and immediate and almost paralyzing pain shoot through her. Before he could shoot again, she decked him, right in the face and he went out and limp like a noodle. Ending with her, almost cradling his body, while holding his thumb hard against the dead mans switch.
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

Malicious and conniving, Donald Pierce was slick as the petroleum products that his company extracted from the earth.

Sameer’s reaction to his meager offering was intentional and without being frank, he tested the merit of the man’s threats, but in the end it was simply as insult. Without coming out and saying it literally, he had dismissed the man as insignificant, prodding the man like some sort of caged animal. It was only a matter a time until he would lash out, and hopefully, Pierce would not be the recipient.

“10 million?” He repeated the man in disbelief, still standing throughout the exchange, it was quite the tall order considering the scenario, Pierce would have rather invested such a sum in a business venture, instead of being badgered out of money for his life. “We could have made 20 million. Past tense.”
And despite his initial attempt at deliverance being interrupted, he wasn’t overly discouraged yet and maintained a rather composed exterior, his expression moved from smug, self-satisfaction when he took the time to plant a couple seeds in an attempt to deflect the attention off of himself. It didn’t work immediately, but he understood, from first glance he was definitely the big fish.

Or something like it.

He batted his eyes at the tall woman in the cocktail dress, apparently he had finally struck a nerve. Part of him wished he would have seen Sameer and everyone in here blown to bits, from the get go instead of wasting his time. What good were they alive anyway?

Suddenly it was if Sameer had connected the dots, identifying cocktail dress as ‘Sabra’ and Pierce glanced back and forth between the Israelis, this was the real deal and his need for a gracious exit only became more evident. The name didn’t mean much to him but the story to follow definitely allowed him to see the severity of the situaiton. He eyed her again, but with less misogyny than the first couple looks earlier, this time he was sizing her up, clearly she was a threat.

Reflexes and strength aside, the tale painted her as quite the valiant hero.

His badgering remained though, the telephone continued unanswered. Apparently Sameer was lost, as if he could sense his lingering defeat at the hands of the woman and finally seemed like he had mustered the stones for his suicidal actions. A finger was lifted and he braced himself, hoping that his frame would uphold at such a close range. This definitely was not his field of expertise. Instead of fleeing, his first instinct was to step back and attempt to block his upper body from a potential blast, but as ‘Sabra’ interjected, his true colors began to shine.

Nearly as quick as her assault, he grabbed one of the girls from her seat and pulled her to her feet easily and started to move before the girl even found her balance on her heels. It was all too easy to support her weight without hindering his own escape, the pair moved around the tussle in the VIP area and made haste to the nearest exit.

“Clean up this mess, sadly we must depart.” He called over his shoulder as the pair did just that.

Of course it would be locked, who would need to escape at a time like this?

A firm shoulder made quick work of the dead bolt, tearing the entire mechanism from the door frame as it gave way.

But it only led them to the alley, surprisingly enough was under populated. Perhaps the police were aware of the locked door, one exit, it was a normal thing in clubs, it aided in managing the traffic. Taking the main streets seemed foolish, but the echo of a gunshot inspired him to think quickly and act quicker. There wasn’t any time for second guessing. His life insurance started to pull away from his unwavering grip in his moment of hesitation and he turned to her briefly, glancing down each side of the alley.

“Take a moment to think, I may have just saved your life. Don’t make me regret that decision.” Intimidating, yes, but he had to make himself crystal clear. He was back in control of this situation and would not tolerate anyone slowing him down. With a jerk of his captive’s wrist, he kicked in an adjacent door. Some equally swanky eatery was on the other side. It was closed or possibly already evacuated and they moved through the staff hallway leading into the kitchen efficiently without bumping into another soul.

His plan was simple, exit this building and make haste to the nearest subway station, even if the front entrance to this establishment was blocked off by law enforcement, he would pass off the girl to the first uniform he found and get the hell out of dodge.

As far as anyone outside the club knew, he was just another terrorized party goer and he would capitalize off it for as long as he could. And while normally above such peasantry as taking the subway, if he could jump in a train, he could lose anyone foolish enough to follow him. “When we get to the door, I want you to muster up whatever tears you have left, we will flee together and then you are free to go.”

Simple.” Dehumanizing her just a little more with a jab at her intellect.

She didn’t say much in response, just offering a short nod and a wide eyed, frightened stare that he almost sympathized with, almost.

“Do as I say and you’ll live.” With his intentions clear, he pulled her along without another glance, another word.
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

Even as she caught the movement just to the left of her, out of the corner of her eye, Ruth knew she was powerless to stop the business man from dragging off with one of the girls. She was holding a man with highly unstable explosives tapped to his chest, and even though she had disarmed it, it was never good to simply toss a man wearing that kind of explosives. Almost as carefully as she had used to put her son in his cradle, she put Sameer down on the floor and used his tie to tie up his hands. There would be no lullaby or a goodnight kiss for Sameer. Just a cold, isolated cell and an interrogation room.

When she was finished, Ruth stood, furious, just in time to hear the tell-tale sound of a door being cracked open in the back. She turned towards the remaining girl, who just sat there dumbly and looked to Ruth for directions. "Get the police in here. Tell them what happened." and with that, the six foot tall woman was out the door and hot on the trails of the business man and the girl he had kidnapped.

Why he choose to nap her, Ruth could not understand. Perhaps some kind of life-insurance. Maybe he believed she would come for him, after finishing Sameer, because he did not know that she had no idea who he was? Whatever his reasons, he was going to pay. Somewhere Ruth knew this was her pride talking, wounded that this man in a suit could possibly have snatched a person right from under her nose.

“Do as I say and you’ll live.”

"Freeze!" Ruth caught up with them just in time to hear that last sentence, and who the hell was this chalavi man to kidnap a girl from a hostage situation with a bomb involved and then threaten her life himself! "How about you follow your own advice, and do as I say" Ruth had a gun trained on the man, but she had picked up on that he hadn't seemed overly intimidated by the gun Sameer had trained on him inside the bar, so she was slowly stepping closer, apprehending by hand could become necessary. "This does not have to get ugly, let the girl go, and we can forget that you almost got all of us killed, and kidnapped her from an active crime scene. You just have to come with me to HQ for some questions."
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Donald Pierce
Unregistered

It all happened so quickly, his reactions had been impulsive and brash(what else was to be expected), but what other options did he have? He could not afford to be linked to Sameer’s madness, his anger had clouded his judgement and now, he was truly in a situation where his back was up against the wall. He ran his free hand though his hair, glancing over his shoulder as he strode swiftly through the dark hall. His living, breathing insurance being pulled along at an arm’s length away, it was obvious his prior pep talk had been effective, she didn’t even struggle as they continued to move, not making a single sound or action of protest. She knew her fate was no longer in her hands.

This part was going smoothly, he could taste his freedom and it was a tall single malt scotch, up until he heard the click of heels in the distance, she was coming after him…or maybe the girl.

Or the pair. That much would surely come to light soon.

‘Freeze.’

Turning his flat expression to face the source of the voice, he moved slowly, carefully and pulled the girl even closer to him, like a human shield. He whispered something into her ear that was barely audible. “I’ve got the golden ticket…” A charismatic smile grew on his features as he loosened his hold on her wrist, surely there was already some slight bruising in the works and he had to keep that a minimum. At times it was difficult to regulate his strength.

"How about you follow your own advice, and do as I say"

“How quaint. The day is saved and you still had the gusto to come after me. I’m flattered.” He managed to remain composed even with a loaded gun aimed on him, obviously it wasn’t the first time (and wouldn’t be the last) he had a run in with the law. In fact he was adept at getting himself out of these kinds of situations. Usually, his first instinct was to flee and if that failed, throw money at the situation and finally, if it came down to it, he had a pack of well compensated lawyers to air out his dirty laundry.

Pierce tried to read the woman in front of him, she was dedicated, that much was apparent. Proud and stubborn, and that told him she was not the type to be bribed, so he disregarded that as an option almost immediately.

"This does not have to get ugly, let the girl go, and we can forget that you almost got all of us killed, and kidnapped her from an active crime scene. You just have to come with me to HQ for some questions."

“What you are failing to see dear, despite my actions, is that I am a victim here. I fled to prolong my life, can you blame me?” His eyes momentarily dropped from this Sabra character’s and down to the trembling girl in his grasp, “I didn’t kidnap anyone, did I?”

The girl was frightened, but she played along with only a minimal delay. “No...No, this man saved me. I begged him to help me.” It was a bold faced lie, but a well-executed one at that.

Satisfied, Pierce released his hold on her and shrugged his shoulders softly. “Am I notoriously impulsive? Yes…I’m a powerful man, I do as I please.

But I am cut from a different cloth than that madman, I am not hell bent on destruction, I have my own goals and if I have to get my hands dirty to do so, so be it.

Surely, you understand that all too well… Sabra, right?” He tilted his head, his face still turned in a pleasant, but plastic smile. “I’ll come quietly if that’s what you wish, but I want my phone call.” He was well versed in his rights and even more so, he knew that the scale of justice could be tipped with the right price.
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Ruth Bat-Seraph
Unregistered

Ruth narrowed her eyes at the business man, still keeping her gun trained at him. "A group of your peers will judge whether or not you have any blame in what happened in there, I am no judge." She did judge him, for running off with the girl as a hostage, but it was not up to her what his punishment should be, or even if he should have any punishment. Ruth put her faith in the legal system.

“No...No, this man saved me. I begged him to help me.” It was a bold faced lie, but a well-executed one at that.

Rolling her eyes, Sabra moved her gun to gesture towards the front of the club. "The Police are out front, go give your witness account to them." when the girl didn't budge, and looked at the business man as if waiting for his approval, Ruth had, had enough. "GO." She would not have him manipulate her any longer, they had, had more than enough time for him to make her alter her story already, she was not staying here a second longer. And with a moments longer hesitation the girl ran off, clicking her nine inch heels against the pavement as she ran.

"Save it." Ruth waved him off, but the man kept talking as Ruth holstered her gun and walked closer.

“Am I notoriously impulsive? Yes…I’m a powerful man, I do as I please.

But I am cut from a different cloth than that madman, I am not hell bent on destruction, I have my own goals and if I have to get my hands dirty to do so, so be it.

Surely, you understand that all too well… Sabra, right?” He tilted his head, his face still turned in a pleasant, but plastic smile. “I’ll come quietly if that’s what you wish, but I want my phone call.”


The mutant woman was more than used to arresting people, and none of this was something she had not heard before, it was barely interesting. "Turn around." she said, and when he did, she put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze, not enough to hurt but enough to remind him that she could and would take him out with her bare hands, if she needed to.

Escorting the man out front, Ruth waved over an officer, borrowed a pair of cuffs from him, told him to make sure Sameer went to Shield and not the local police station, and then promptly cuffed Donald Pierce and put him in the backseat of her own personal car, heading for Shield as well.
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