2007-03-05: How Do You Catch The Everywhere Man

Starring:

Ed_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif Clint_icon.gif

Guest Starring: The Haitian

Summary: The Company finally gets the upper hand on that pesky, hostage-taking, painting-stealing Clint.

Date It Happened: March 5th, 2007

How Do You Catch The Everywhere Man?


Clint's Apartment

Well, Clint's been doing his best to get his stuff moved out of his apartment. His place is pretty barren right now, a lot of the stuff having been put into storage for the time being, until he can find a new place, probably under an assumed name, he hopes. Something just to keep himself safe. Now, well, he doesn't think he left any real evidence of who he was when he hit the building in Kirby Plaza. Maybe a couple of people saw his face, but that was about it. He's just doing this as a precaution, for Jane.

"Remember our orders. Bastard's probably not even home, but we're going in anyways." Edward Boone says. Edward Boone is a Company Man; he's got a job to do, and this is it. Boone has two things in tow: his blonde, sociopathic partner, and a large steel canister with a hose attached, which he carries over one shoulder. What the hell?

Emerging from the elevator, Ed starts walking briskly down the hallway, reaching into his blazer to produce his gun: A black glock, with a silencer longer than the barrel itself. He holds it at arm's length, in his right.

A cleaning lady pops out of the hallway and gasps; Ed holds out a badge. "Homeland Security. Go back down the hall, miss," he mutters, before reaching the door in question. He stops at the door, quietly crosses to the other side, and pulls that canister off of his shoulder. He rests it on the floor, and raises the hose to Clint's doorknob. And holds up three fingers to Elle and the Haitian. Then only two.

Elle has her gun out as well. Those electrocrisping abilities of hers are holstered. She's quiet and follows Ed's lead, positioning herself to give Ed cover when the door opens and also to be able to rush in when he gives the signal.

The tall Haitian man is characteristically silent, his keen eyes watchful of their surroundings. His presence here might be purely instrumental, but that doesn't mean he can't keep a careful eye on the shadows to make sure nothing leaps out at them. He nods once to Ed's gesture, keeping a step or two behind Elle, waiting.

Clint has gathered up the last of his stuff. Some of his football memoribilia, including a tape that highlights some of his apearances on SportsCenter and other TV programs, "I shoulda just gone pro." He grumbles to himself, idly. Had he done that, he'd probably be down in sunny Jacksonville or San Diego right now. He'd be living the good life.

Ed pushes a little button on that hose. There's a terrible *hiss* before a great deal of pneumatic force *PUNCHES* Clint's lock clear out of the door. This is the first sign that something is amiss; his lock probably explodes inwards, and Boone follows a second later, immediately kicking the door in and entering the room gun first, clearing the living room one way and the next. "/NYPD!/ GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!" he says. Now, where in this … very cozy place is Clint?

Elle manages to swallow the urge to roll her eyes at Ed as they break and enter Clint's apartment. It's really a strength of will. She checks her corners behind her partner before advancing into the first room. "Identify your location!" This she says because, well, maybe Clint will just give up without a fight. One can always hope.

It should be noted that the Haitian does not come bursting into the room barking orders. In fact, he simply steps inside so as not to be too far away, then slips off to one side. He positions himself intentionally with his back against one wall; no one can sneak up on him this way, and he's poised to see anyone who might enter or exit the apartment through the blown-open door. He hovers. Ominously.

The door, well, the lock, at least, explodes inwards, nearly smashing into Clint himself as it flies past his face. He's right in the living room. He's down on one knee after the near miss with the door knob, and then his eyes turn to the door as it's kicked in. Hell. The cops? They must be on somebody's payroll. It's not paranoia if everyone really is out to get you. He goes to trigger his teleportation, to get away. Anywhere. Just up onto the roof of the building, at least. But it doesn't work. Hell. That's not good. He puts his hands up, and stands, but not before he checks that the Colt Python he stole from Anders is tucked away in the back of his waistband, "Now I won't get my security deposit back. Thanks asshole."

"Anytime, pal," Ed says, and jerks a chin to Elle. "Cover me," he says, before approaching Clint. "Down on your knees, put your hand behind your head, chief." He's already reaching for his handcuffs. This might go nice and smooth. "You have the right to remain silent," he says, menacingly. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Elle nods at Ed and aims her weapon at Clint's head. If he gets twitchy, she'll just get twitchy right back and that could lead to badness.
"What'd I do?" Clint asks, not getting down just yet, "And where's your badge? How do I know you're not just some random criminals who're pretending to be cops?" He wants to see some proof before he's gonna go and comply. Especially when he has more firepower. He again tries to teleport, but gets nothing. What in the hell is going on? Why can't he get out of here..

Ed holsters his gun with a quick motion and trades it out for a badge. Sure looks like an NYPD badge, anyways; his other hand holds what is probably a taser of some variety. "Sir, you have the right to have an attorney present for your questioning. If you do not have an attorney, one will be provided for you," he continues. "Now comply or I /will/ tase you," he barks, and starts circling around the former football player.

Elle doesn't holster her weapon. No. She keeps it trained on Clint. "Probably wondering why you haven't poofed out of here, huh?" Smirking, she looks to Ed and watches him work.

More firepower? The Haitian, still standing against the wall, watching the situation with a decidedly neutral stare, is something of a secret weapon. He says nothing. He does very little except look absolutely out of place, keeping his gaze locked on Clint.
Well, Clint was keeping an eye on that taser. And the normal gun. And then Elle goes and opens her mouth and gives things away, "Shit." Clint, well…Maybe he can get out of here. He's not sure how. Wait. The fire escape. Yeah. This is going to require a series of quick, planned manuvers. And he doesn't have time to plan anything out. So he grabs the first thing near his hand. A football autographed by Brett Farve, twists, and throws one of his signature bullet passes straight at Elle, before he moves to dive towards the door towards the next room over. Assuming he makes it that far without getting his ass tased, he'll get out his Colt, and break for the fire escape in the bedroom. Please let this work. He really doesn't want to end up getting tasered or shot tonight.

"Son of a-" Ed whirls around towards the window, trying to follow Clint with his eyes. And, more importantly, his taser. As soon as he has the shot, he-pauses. Why? He waits for Clint to reach the window. He'll have to stop to get through it and change direction, or to pull open the window. Which is the point at which he is going to taze him.

He doesn't wait a split-second after that, though, dropping the taser and darting ahead and drawing his glock, whirling around to Elle for a moment. "Are you /kidding/ me?!"

Elle is watching Clint? So when he goes to throw the ball? She just shoots him, lowering her aim only slightly so that she's hitting his center of mass. The bullet is off before she gets pinged by the ball. It sends her her twisting back and will probably leave a bruise. Snarling, she raises her gun again and snarks off at Ed, "You were the one standing right next to him!"
"
Needing to stay close, the Haitian observes the scuffle with a nonplussed expression, moving away from the wall to take a position near the hallway. Clint isn't about to get outside of his range. He's careful, all the while, to stay out of the crossfire. He doesn't need to take a stray bullet, thank you.
Well, unfortunately for Clint, part of his plan did not involve getting shot. His twisting thankfully avoids him taking a round in the chest. But it still goes into his left arm. Not his throwing arm. But he's bleeding now, as he pretty much falls into the hallway. He grabs ahold of his Colt, brings it out, and fires, blowing up a massive chunk of wall at the edge of the hallway, "Take one step down here and I'll blow you away, mother fuckers!" He yells out, still sitting on his ass, backing himself away slowly, "Turn off whatever's supressing my powers and I won
'Won't kill all three of you to figure out what it is!"

Ed is caught without his gun, and stares into the barrel of Clint's. That was not how it is supposed to go in the textbook. Boone stares at Clint, before he holds both of his hands up. "Blow us away, huh? Well, look who got a big gun and became the big dog," he says, and takes a step forward. "You know that girl you and your little Gojira-fearing friend pulled out? Pick a sociopathic crime and she's got it under your belt. I guarantee." Boone takes another step forward, dangerously. He'll keep going until he can press his chest against the barrel of Clint's gun. "Hey, how many people have you murdered, pal? Greater than, or less than zero?" He makes unflinching eye contact with Clint, before darting his glance down at his gun.

"Hey. You forgot to cock the hammer back after you shot a hole in the wall. That's the trouble with those revolvers."

Elle is giving Ed a hard stare when he steps into the hallway, doing his hardcore thing. "What the hell are you doing?!" It's not like she really cares about the man. In fact, she hates him. A lot. But she knows crazy. And he's acting crazy. Banking on the fact that Clint is probably fairly distracted by the suicicidal man, she lies, "Hiro was captured. He gave you up."

No, Clint's never killed anybody with this revolver. Or any weapon, for that matter. But still, "Bull. Why would Hiro give me up.." He says, grunting a bit. Ed's right up against the barrel of the weapon now, and Clint hasn't shot him. Clint is not one to usually accept defeat. But he knows he doesn't really have it in him to kill this guy in cold blood. The young man sighs, and lowers the weapon, turning his back on Ed, "All I was there for was the paintings. I didn't know we'd be rescuing somebody." He grunts. Jane told him about her, "So who's the chick, anyway?"
You paged Clint with 'Ed is going to kick out your knee and put you in a restraining hold. Is that okay? It's the back of the knee, so it's not actually injury.'

"Bad news for you," Ed says, and he immediately steps forward and tries to /kick/ Clint's leg out from under him, dropping him to the ground and catching him in a policeman's hold. "That's who she is. But who cares? Where is she now? Where's Kellie and all your little friends?" He looks over his shoulder at Elle, and winks. See? Hopefully it worked out. "You want to take a few thousand volts? Try something cute again." There's a click. That's a gun barrel.
Clint grunts as he goes down and gets put into a hold, "I don't know." He says, simply, "Hiro took her off somewhere. She was only here for a night." He says, "Go ahead, I know you've probably got people who can probe my brain." He tries to get a look at Elle. He assumes she's one of them, which is how she knew he was wondering why he couldn't teleport.
"He didn't actually rat you out, but thanks for telling us who the other guy was," Elle says, eyeing Ed and his wink with some trepidation. She knows that wink! Taking the corner, she aims her weapon at Clint, but doesn't take further action.

"Yup," Ed says. "We sure do." And then he raises his gun and hits Clint in the back of the head, knocking him out. "We're bagging him and tagging him. Let's get him back to the van — the real cops are gonna be here any minute now."
"Aye aye Captain Crazy," Ellie fires back, saluting Ed with her gun before slipping the safety on and putting it back in its holster. Presuming Clint is good and out, she takes his other arm to help carry him.

Clint is totally unconcious. Yep. Easy to drag.

Ed shrugs, and then helps get Clint up. "Hey, you're the Admiral of the USS Crazy," he retorts. "And we got him, didn't we?"

Elle doesn't offer any more banter. At least not of the verbal sort. She grunts back at Ed and helps him heft the teleporter to the van.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License