2007-08-07: DF: Scramble!

Starring:

DFElena_icon.gif Eric_icon.gif DFJack_icon.gif DFPeter_icon.gif

Summary: In the early evening, Elena and Jack spar while Peter returns to the Saints' headquarters. Eric joins in on the banter. Camaraderie is cut short when Davis, the hotel manager, hits the panic button, and the foursome learn from one of the Flock's team leaders that Cass Aldric has been kidnapped.

Dark Future Date: August 7, 2009

Scramble!


Basement Levels, Phoenix Rising Penthouses

She had a training session with Jack today, but he had to take care of something. Waiting on him, Elena's mulling through everything else she has to tell him. Everything she has to brief him with. Clad in a pair of comfortable, black yoga pants and a sports bra, she's busily pulling her long, dark hair into a ponytail. The golden highlights that had been streaked on the tresses gleam under the harsh light of the gymnasium area of the Phoenix Rising basement levels…and she can't help but stare.

A gym.

An -actual- gym.

And there's a setting for an automatic obstacle course. Eric spared no expense. He did mention he managed to acquire two weapons development companies abroad, and with the fact that he mostly dealt with cutting edge technology…

She was almost afraid to press the button.

The red button.

She pushes it.

The wide floor in the free exercise area slowly shifts, obstacles of all sorts, pillars of different height, hurdles, bars, wires, a rope to swing from. Eric really DID think of everything. She couldn't help but feel her adrenaline kicking up on overdrive. Boost, practicing it, honing it, refining it, had its consequences. Her fingers tended to twitch on occasion, she couldn't remember the last time she had a good night's sleep, everything felt on overdrive. Heart palpitations were common, and her addiction to her own endorphins had never been higher. Caffeine wasn't even cutting it anymore.

She does a few stretches, padding over to the starting point and hunching over. She warms up, she cracks her knuckles. She gets down on one knee to examine the course.Logfile from HeroesMU.

"Damn you, Trina…"

When Jack staggers out of bed, he immediately realizes that he's been asleep for far, far longer than the hour that he'd planned. He feels too good. Too rested. He checks the clock on the bedise table. "Shit!"

Two minutes later…

Jack stoops until he's eye level with the coffee pot. He glowers at it. "DAMN YOU. HURRY UP AND PERK."

Another two minutes later…

Jack shoulders through the door to the gymnasium area with an enormous mug of black coffee in one hand. This and the sickbay are the two areas he didn't have a chance to check out last night. When he arrives he lets out a low whistle. "Man," he grates, stepping forward slowly to inspect the varied levels, obstacles, and pieces of equipment in the free training area. "That just looks fun."

This morning, someone returned to the building. After leaving the day he was brought here, Peter hasn't come back— until now at least. Oddly enough, he looks more like a person now. It appears he found a place to clean up, and some clothes that actually fit him. They might be a tiny bit too big for him, but they're perfect for his height and basic build, and they look better on him than the hand-me-downs he aquired from the Saints and the Zoo. Also far closer to his choice of clothes. A black top and jeans. Clean shaven, too. That's important.

But he's also lost. Even if he was told by Eric how to get in, he hadn't been told where anything was other than the kitchen and the medbay— which he'd avoided. He's been wandering around the place quietly for some time, until he spots Jack in the corner of his eye with a cup of coffee. Following a distance behind the other man, he doesn't call out or say anything, because that would requiring yelling at this point. He'll wait til he catches up—

And when he catches up, he's stepping into a training area and struck even more silent than he'd already been. It's like something from a movie. And Jack thinks it looks fun. And Elena looks like she's planning to jump into it—

In the armory, which is on the same floor as the training room, Eric continues his target practice from earlier. The room is soundproofed and the rapid fire report of the semi-auto custom Ruger/Glock hybrid in his hands dosn't reach more than a few feet beyond the walls of the room. He is using up bullets at a very high rate of fire, but its all in good fun and good practice.

He's got most of a smily face done on the target downrange.

Now he pauses in his practice as he hrmms a moment, caressing the trigger to send the last three shots into the target and leaving a smiling happy face of bullet holes on the target. He nods to himself as he lowers the weapon, returning it to the holster thats slung under his arm. He nods happily to himself before he strolls towards the door and out…

…only to find a pair of people passing him in the hallway and going towards the gym. Blink blink.

Strolling up behind Peter and Jack he looks between the two, and then glances into the room. "…this a private party?" Pause. Then he sees that Elena extended all the obsticles. "…ah, I see you found the toys!"

"This is better than chocolate."

There is a pause.

"…wait no. No. I can't compare anything to food," Elena groans. That was another consequence of Boost. She needed more food. She ate so much these days it was as if someone had impregnated her. Of course, that can't be the case, because Prime would've killed whoever it was by now. Still, she looks up at Jack and grins at him. "I don't really want to know how much money Eric spent to soup this space up, but…." She was SO not caring at the moment. Girls went to spas. Girls went shopping. Girls bawled into their phones for release if they were pent up about something. Elena went out to do something that got her adrenaline pumping.

Her dark eyes flash gold. She tears off from the start point like a rocket as her body jacks up to its optimal level of performance. She launches herself upwards once she reaches the horse, springboarding off the elevated ramp and bracing her hands upon the flat surface to launch her up higher. She twists, she lands on a higher platform, hunched over like a gargoyle and grinning like a chesire cat down at Jack.

When the newcomers enter, her eyes flick over to them. Her grin fades a touch, having not expected company from the outside, but she does lift her fingers in a slight wave to both Peter and Eric as she straightens up. "General Lee here wants to school me. Maybe this time around I won't have anything left to learn." Which was always not the case.

Grinning, Jack squats and sets his coffee mug on the floor. He keeps his bad leg carefully stretched out to the side as he does, bending it only slightly. As always, he's wearing a long-sleeved shirt and his favorite pair of leather gloves. The shirt is lightweight and is cut high at the wrists and low around the neck, exposing several inches of scarred flesh and a tattoo of two hands clasped in prayer at the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. They hold a rosary with dog tags sitting in place of a cross. They read 'Ortega, S.'

The arrival of spectators does nothing to diminish his excitement. They have a new toy to play with, after all. He tosses a mischievous wink over his shoulder at Peter and Eric. "Hold on, guys. 'Lena started poppin' all her 'I'm the best' shit as soon as she woke up. I'ma go reeducate her. Back in a flash."

That said, he springs up and catches the rope, then quickly hauls himself up until he's eye-level with Elena. He adjusts his grip, then dangles easily from one hand. With the other, he crooks a finger in a 'come hither' fashion that can only be described as insulting. Lovingly insulting.


Eric? Eric blinks once before he shakes his head. A grin over towards Peter before he smirks slightly. "…alright…I'm gonna go get popcorn and some chairs. You want anything?" He asks of the Happy Fun Petey. "…because there isn't any way I want to get inbetween those two right now."

"Do— do they do this often?" Peter asks, looking towards Eric, for the moment completely forgetting that he's been gone for quite some time himself. But maybe he's still in the know, right? He's just kinda dumbstruck by her acts of acrobatics at this point, recalling the stunt on the truck and a few other things from the night they re-met. "Yeah— popcorn and chairs would be good— I guess." He shakes his head, turning to look back at Jack and Elena and waits to see just how much he'll feel like he suddenly woke up in the Matrix. And it has nothing to do with the black trench coat that's hanging on a coat rack that he wore here.

"I said no such thing," Elena tells Jack. "It's just that I absolutely -refused- to call you master like a good padawan." The fact that she's got something new to play with blunts her usual reserve whenever this Past Peter is around. Much like Jack, she has no stance….simply because Jack was the one who trained her in the first place. Guns. Melee. Barehanded fighting. She had been the little girl he took under his wing to try and prepare her to survive the war. And unlike before, there was no hesitation, not after the way Luis and Juanita died.

And she had been a very fast learner.

At the come hither gesture….he barely gets a second flick of his fingers in because Elena's suddenly rocketing forward, getting up close fast, swinging her fist out, and curving her next strike with the other fist, and then, her knee coming up to hit low. Just like Jack taught her. No overextensions. Minimal openings. 'Up close and personal is the best way to kick righteous ass' he told her once.

Weaving a tight, one-handed defense, Jack bats away both punches but is unable to redirect the knee. The force of the blow drives air from his lungs and sends him swinging backward on the free-suspended rope. Rather than fight it, he angles his body in the direction of the swing, turning it into a wide, fast, semi-circular swoop. This is why he chose an unstable platform to start with. Here, his decreased mobility can be a strength rather than a weakness. "You can call me Poppa Bear if you're more comfortable with that," he taunts as he manuevers.

When he comes back around toward her, he lashes out with both beet, launching a series of sharp, vicious kicks in quick succession. His teeth are bared in a feral, joyous grin and his eyes are wide with excitement.

Jack gets two hits in, Elena staggering back as she blocks the series of kicks with her own leg, or sometimes the forearm if they get high. But one heel manages to catch her solar plexus, and one on the calf. She's sent off the platform, her body twisting and falling to a lower level. Before she could fall completely, however, her fingers catch the end of the platform. This is when she acts fast, she uses her rapidly dropping body's velocity to swing forward, letting go and continuing the drop, arms stretching under the platform and snagging the rope like a trapeze artist without the triangle, dangling there.

She climbs up quickly, her speed is better under boost - much faster and more agile. And normally she was already an agile creature. She gets up the rope no problem, and slams her feet on the edge of the platform to throw her back along the rope….and lets herself swing forward towards Jack. She lets go, launching -both feet- at him. Of course, with Boost, she's much stronger too…so she might very well send both of them off the platform if she connects, and onto the lower floor where the pillars are.

Jack ducks.

Peter watches.

Elena lands on a pillar, and THROWS HER SHOE at Jack.

Elena cheats.

Jack gets hit in the back of the head while he's congratulating himself. Then he falls down and lands on a pillar.
While it's good to see her acting more like herself— closer to the ray of sunshine he'd come used to— Peter's a little bothered about what's brought out her perky and upbeat personality. Waiting for Eric to return with the chairs and the popcorn, he just stares, watching the two of them quietly. Fighting has never been his strong point… and as far as he knew, it hadn't really been hers either. This world is different, though—

There's a hint of alarm as they fight, but he clasps his hands together and forces himself to just watch. No interference. Nothing. Just watch. Surely they would avoid actually hurting each other, right?

When Jack lands on a pillar, Elena rockets her OTHER shoe at Jack. "….WHAT? You said use EVERYTHING I could grab, right?" she says across the distance. But…this makes it a little trickier to fight. So she rears back, and leaps on a pillar closer to Jack, and lifts up both fists. She pops a jab-cross-hook combination at Jack. No kicking, unless there's an opening. Otherwise she'll fall.

Eric comes wondering back, whistling softly. In one hand is two folding chairs, one of which he offers to Peter. The onther hand has a bag of popcorn. Nommy nommy popcorn. He pauses a moment as he watches the pair of them. "…I don't know if they do this often, I was in a hospital for two years." He replies easily enough as he sets his chair down and plunks himself into it. Its leaves him a good view of the room.

"…she's gotten alot better…" He adds after a moment. Then a grin before he offers Peter some of the popcorn, and settles down to watch. A blink at the sudden attack of the shoes. "…well damn. CHEATER!" He calls out towards the pair of brawlers. Then a pause.

"And Elena you hit like a girl!"

…just because he can.

"OOF!" Jack lands gut-first on the platform with his usual lack of grace. He hauls himself to his feet, wobbling slightly on the narrow pillar. "Shoes? You're throwin' bloody sh— damnit!" Elena's second shoe-missle catches Jack in the chest. It's not damaging, but it does drive her point home. He draws up his bad leg into a lazy Irishman's version of a crane stance, stabilizing himself on his good limb and halting the wobbles. When she approaches, he's ready for her. He ducks his head and stoically accepts the jab on the crown of his skull where it's as likely to hurt her as it is him. The cross narrowly misses and soars just over his shoulder, but the hook catches him heavily on the jaw. Grunting with effort, he grabs her by the front of her sports bra and throws her back up to the highest level of platforms. He launches himself right after her.

The air of victory is shortlived as Elena is grabbed….by the sportsbra. She panics INSTANTLY. "JACK! L— LET GO OF THAT! LEGGO LEGGO LEGGO!" She knows how strong Jack could be, he might rip it, and she's in the gym with Peter and Eric -watching-. She can't have that. And, because she can't help it… "I'm not that kind of g— OOF!" This is around the point where she's launched into the higher platform. She doesn't stay lax though, letting her body go limp so she could roll easily on the side and get back up, her stance going defensive…

And then, Eric yells what he does.

Her eyebrow ticks. Without looking at him, she extends a hand to POINT at Eric.

"Quiet from the peanut gallery, I'm a little busy," she says, her eyes fixed on Jack as he vaults up the platform.

As for what happens? Well…it's what we call the Bee Sting effect. Causing a minor allergic reaction, Eric's lips…start to swell.

She might hit like a girl, but at least she wasn't a dude with Angelina Jolie's lips.

That popcorn? Peter ignores it. Because he's too busy watching what's going on. He doesn't even get to the point where he sits down because— Jack's grabbing her bra. Her reaction is flustered, and so is his. He actually turns a little red at the sight of that— though it actually helps a lot that she seems embarassed by it to. …She does not hit like a girl. Even if the shoe throwing was childish in a way— but he can't help but look at Eric— and be looking at him as the poor guy's lips get hit with Bee Sting of pointy finger doom.

Know what? He's just going to shut up and watch. Yeah.

Jack lands in a nimble, wary half-crouch, revealing that at least some of his decreased mobility was feigned. He presses the attack while she's distracted with Eric, rattling off a lighting-quick string of short, straight kung-fu punches at her midsection, then punctuates the attack by rushing her with one broad shoulder leading, attempting to use his superior size and weight to his avantage and bully her off the edge. The theory here is that what goes up must come down.

Eric munches on some popcorn. He grins to himself. Yes, this was shaping up to be a very amusing little distraction. Kinda like what happened last night. Of course then she gets grabbed by the sportsbra. Well. Mmmm. Uhhh. You know, Eric isn't entirely immune to things like that. He dosn't blush…well…not as much as Peter at least. He coughs a moment, turning away. Half annoyed by himself getting slightly embarassed by the grabbing of the braness.

Then. His lips start to itch.

Blink. Blink.

"What did you do?!" He can feel his lips swell a little bit.

His eyebrow twitches slightly and then he snaps his fingers and a little circle of darkness appears hovering in midair about a handspan away from him. He cracks his knuckles a bit and then grins. So. What should he do? Tickle? Trip? Or just steal the lost shoes and throw them to Jack…so many choices.

The hole of black that appears above the other man draws his eyes. Peter has little idea what the man is going to do with that— honestly he's not sure how his abilities work, but he reaches over and touches his arm, hoping that he can find what she did and reverse it— or at least make it better, before he says, "You probably shouldn't interfer with them— they might fall and get hurt." And he doesn't want to see that— and he doesn't want to mess up their training either.

Ping.

He's coming closer.

In the future, Elena CHEATS. Boost and Ping are compensating her lack of actual, formal training. When Jack sails for her, she suddenly slides away from him, twisting her body to maneuver herself around him, and even bends backwards, using her boosted flexibility to clear his arm like a limbo staff. She knows he's trying to corner her to the edge, so she takes the brunt of the strikes. She puts her forearms up, blocking as much as she can, pouring her Painkilling ability to keep herself from feeling it when his blows hit her ribcage and her abdomen repeatedly. She may be lighter, faster, but he was stronger and he can just force his way through her defenses no matter how swift they are. In the last minute, however, before she could fall, she suddenly slides forwards, both fists plowing towards Jack's chest, and drops, to try and sweep-kick Jack and send -him- over the edge.

Elena's kick catches Jack behind his bad knee. It crumples like a soda can, unable to support his weight with her applying considerable pressure from the rear. Rather than wait for the inevitable fall he drops willingly from the edge of the platform. He catches the edge in both gloved hands, hangs briefly, then drops back down to the lower level. He lands better this time, though he winces when he puts weight on his kicked leg. Wait… Is that? IT IS!

Jack snatches up one of Elena's discarded shoes and flings it at her.

Eric is touched.

…it dosn't seem to be a bad touch either.

YAY! NO BAD TOUCH!

A pause as his lips stop itching and he eyes Peter a moment. He sighs a moment and sets his hand back into the popcorn bag. "…alright alright…I wasn't going to do anything that could make them actually fall…" Of course then Elena kicks Jack in his bad knee…just after he throws her half across the room.

Pause.

"Oh yes. Someone might get hurt. Wouldn't want that."

WHAP!

The shoe bounces off her head, but that's not stopping Elena. Sure. She's got a footprint on her face, size 8 1/2, but she doesn't care. Jack is down, she cheats. There is no honorable fighting here. She has to end this now. She leaps from the platform…to try and land ON Jack. Hey, he grabbed her bra. Now she's trying to straddle his back, attempting to pin him down and hold his head down with her other hand. Okay, so she looks a little ridiculous, but dignity is a small price to pay for victory!

No bad touch. Not for him. And the touch doesn't last much longer as Peter's hand drops away and he realizes that he'd succeeded in doing what he needed doing. But when he looks back, he flinches.

The former nurse from the days of old isn't sure he can keep watching this, honestly. They really do look like they might be trying to kill each other— even if he knows they wouldn't do such a thing— and the shoe throwing adds a certain amount of simplicity to the image. "Maybe I was more worried that she might hurt you for interfering…" he finally says in a softened tone, before he tries to continue watching what they're doing.

But he has one more question, "Do you think they'll… stop before they really do hurt each other?"

Elena comes down with one leg on either side of Jack's neck so she's effectively sitting on his shoulders with him still standing. If he were doing it to her it would be called the fireman's carry. Henceforth, we shall refer to it as the Elenabomb.

The only problem with using the Elenabomb under these circumstances is that there's nowhere for Jack to fall but the floor. He plummets to the mat and lands, now with Elena kneeling on either side of his head. "Ooooh," he groans. "Jesus. You win, Sucklips. I shoulda known you'd try to stick my head between your legs."

"Hah! Victory! I— ARGGGGHHHH!!!!"

Elena can't help it. She lets go, and swats the back of Jack's head over and over and over again. Lightly, of course. It's sort of like how Moe slaps Larry and Curly around in those old Three Stooges episodes. She's turning a little red/purple on the face. Despite all the changes, the last two years, those comments from Jack still cause that face to burn. She can't help it. Coming from Jack, those comments were just WRONG.

She rolls off him, flopping on the floor and breathing raggedly. Boost fades off, her eyes turn back to normal. She reaches a hand over her heart to concentrate on slowing it down and calming it. "No…you still have the edge." She looks over at Jack. "I cheated. I was using my abilities the entire time."

Nom. Nom. Nom. Good popcorn.

Eric dosn't take his eyes off the fight before he shakes his head slightly. A smirk comes to his lips before he nods. "…true enough. That might hurt worse if she attacked me for ruining her fun." Pause. "Of course…it would be quite fun…the fight afterwards would."

Elena isn't the only adrerineline junkie, they all are.

"…yes, the'll stop before the damage each other too badly." HE adds after the moment as he watches with a keen eye. Elena lands ON Jack, Elena smothers Jack with her thighs. He blinks once. Then he blinks again.

Then. Then he starts to laugh. He starts to chuckle. He points at Elena.

"Sucklips!"

Breaking down into laughter once again he almost falls of his chair now.

…give him a break. Its the first time he's heard Jack say it to her.

Jack's heavy brows push together as he puzzles this out. By the time he's flopped onto his back his face is showing a mixture of emotions that mash together into an unreadable soup. "You… You cheated? Against me?" He blinks several times, then a crooked smile slowly creeps onto his craggy, weathered face. "I'm so bloody proud that I could pop. Figuratively. Don't getcher hopes up." He grins and shoots a wink over at the laughing Eric and the thoroughly dumbstruck Present Peter.

You know what? Peter heard that. If he'd been red when the man grabbed her bra, he's even redder. So red that he actually ends up covering his face a little with his hand. If only because— well— yeah. He's definitely not immune to that being tossed around in public either, especially not about a girl that— Sucklips? What kind of nuncle calls his adopted niece sucklips

Well, at least they stopped, even if— they've made him red in the face for a reason entirely seperate from anger. Even if he can't help but have the hint of a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. Mostly because… It is nice to see that they have some of their personalities intact, even if it has to come out when they fight.

"SHUT. -UP-!" Elena bellows at Eric from where she is. And Peter's just got his face in his hands. And he's red. She couldn't help but feel a smile tug up her mouth watching them both SO FREAKING AMUSED. Yeah, yuck it up buckos. Savor the moment.

She turns back to her teacher, looking somewhat sheepish. "Yeah," she confesses. "Sorry. It's just that if I fought fair, I'd -always- lose and given these days that's clearly unacceptable if I'm going to lead the team for you when you're— " Wait. He was proud of her? She can't help but grin. So widely that the girl in her shows through all the more. She wasn't one to seek approval often, but as far as Jack's concerned…

BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.

The alarm sounds like a foghorn all across the lower levels of the high-rise building. Elena's head snaps up from where she is, her senses on alert. It doesn't take long for her to realize what it is. She's up in a flash, and she's running full speed towards the exit of the gymnasium. "It's the panic button," she breathes. "Davis." The hotel manager, who's always on patrol upstairs. "Something's wrong."

Eric savors. Oh so how he savors. The laughing slowly comes to a close though as he smirks slightly towards her. Yeah. He knows she's smiling. Oh she is smiling. He got a smile, he wins.

"…oh your doing fine Elena," Eric drawls out before he smiles and starts to unfold out of his chair. A smile streaches across his face. Opening his mouth he holds his hand out towards Elena. "Congradulations Suc—-"

The alarm intrupts his comment though and his eyes snap open wide. The laughter fades quickly enough and he reaches behind his back to pull out a sleek looking H&K pistol which he hands towards Elena without a word. Jack can make his own weapons.

"Take the emergency elevator, to the right, should take us to the upstairs security station." He growls out as he pulls his own pistol and clears the action before tucking it away again.

"Sounds fun." Rather than try to remember where Trina put his sidearm when she started hauling pieces of uniform and gear off of his sleeping carcass, Jack waves his arms and relocates his new best friend, Bernice. The heavy, dual-barreled assault weapon pops into view already slung from one shoulder by a canvas strap. He readies it and dials the grenade targeting computer for a short range, low altitude detonation. He's bruised, limping, and breathless from his spar with Elena. In other words, he's perfectly warmed up by the time he reaches the elevator. "C'mon, ladies. Let's go see who's tap-tap-tapping."

Yes, Peter's red in the face, but it won't last much longer. The smile is enough. He'd not covered his eyes, after all. When his hand lowers, his own lopsided smile has increased some— at least until the alarm goes off. Surprised, he glances up, unsure about what happened exactly before he looks back down and watches everyone start moving. They're all used to this, aren't they? He's not. There's a moment where he opens his mouth, as if to ask if he can go, or what's going on, but they're already moving, handing out and readying weapons, and getting instructions on emergency elevators.

He's not one of them. He probably shouldn't get involved.

He's also Peter Petrelli of old, who didn't tend to just hang behind— even if Jack just called him a lady too, because he's followed to the emergency elevator and looks like he fully intends to join them. He does have to look at the man, though— "I didn't know you could relocate something that… big."

"Impressive, isn't it?" Jack purrs. "You can touch it if you want."

"No— no thanks." Peter responds softly, looking up at the now older man with a hint of waryness.

"Go on. Don't be shy." Jack holds his piece out in a way that's designed to look inviting. "I know I can't wait to touch it every time I look at it."

"Glad you like your toy there Jack," Eric adds with a smirk as he follows Elena. "But you know you should let Trina play with it first."

Jack hefts the bulky rifle and grins. "It makes me feel rugged and manly. Like a lumberjack or summat."

The H&K pistol is tossed at her, and Elena snatches it from mid-air while she's running. The Saints trained together, fought together. Hell, Eric trained her in the finer points of throws and punches too, so it's not surprising that once they get going, the members of this…crazy, yet colorful terrorist cell, when things got serious, they moved like a well-oiled machine.

And the banter made things all the more…well. Dynamic. Even Peter seems to be getting into the swing of things. Looking over her shoulder, she couldn't help but look relieved.

The elevator doors close, and speeds them up to the upper floors. Once the double doors open into the lobby, Elena is out, her pistol gripped in both hands and her Ping ability out - she could detect life signs in the Security office, and they're moving around rapidly. Davis was probably in there, considering there was a set time when he would go there every day to check on his team.

She kicks the door open, sweeping the pistol into her nearest blindside, and to the front. She lowers the pistol when she sees the blood.

"Oh my god," she says, hurrying inside and stowing away the gun.

Inside the security office, and its rows and rows of monitors and other security measures, is Davis, crouched on the ground and cradling a broken, wounded body against him, trying to calm the man down who seems to be going through what Peter would find familiar….death throes. The man was wearing the signature black of the Saints, but he's clearly not one of them. There is, however, the Saints cross pin attached to the side of his turtleneck - denoting him a member of the Flock. John "Johnny Bravo" Brazinsky's blonde hair is matted against his face, his dark glasses still perched on his nose, but with one lens shattered.

" 'E's pretty bad off, chaps," Davis says in his British accent, his voice quiet. "Don' think 'ere's much I could do for him."

"C…..c….ass…." chokes Johnny, blood frothing from his mouth.

Like Elena, Jack lowers his weapon and lets it hang from its sling. His lips press into a flat, sad line and the muscles in his jaw clench and unclench visibly. Though he's no medic, he's seen enough soldiers wounded in battle to know when one has passed the point of no return. He drops to his knees and takes John's hand in one of his. He unabashedly wipes blood away from the man's mouth with the other. "Talk to me, John," he urges quietly, his voice a low, throaty croak. "Who did this?"

Eric is right behind Elena as she kicks open the door, automaticly moving the other direction to cover he blind spot as she sweeps out of the door. Just like old times, when it was all fun and games. Back before the world exploded around him and everything went to hell. He sweeps though the door, letting Jack cover the center of the room with his big gun.

Of course, he dosn't seem to need the weapon. It gets put up automaticly as he corners towards Davis, his eyes widening. He dosn't even know the man's name. Dosn't even know who he is, but he's a member of the Flock and high up as well if he knows about this place. Whats happened to him…

Letting Jack pass the busisnessman turned warrior for awsome turns towards Davis. "…where did he come from?" He asks the englishman quietly, his eyes on the dying man.

"I— think I'll leave the weapons to you guys," Peter says softly, trying his best not to look— well— cowed. But he's still a little red in the face. That's the last of the banter they'll hear from him, even though he does meet the eyes of the young woman briefly. Doesn't last long. As they make it to the top floor, he actually considers shifting into invisibilty mode. The last thing he wants to do is get anyone here into trouble just by being there— and Peter isn't supposed to be here at all.

Nor is he generally welcomed. But there's a difference here. He doesn't do it for long enough that as soon as he sees the man in his death throws, he hurries forward, no mind to the fact that he's not really supposed to be there at all, and kneels to put a hand on the man that's now being held. Specifically something he did not to long ago— healing. He really hopes it works faster than it did the last time— This man's a lot closer to death. It won't be a shining bright light and the man jumps up and is on his feet again, but it might keep him from falling through death's door…

"Johnny," Elena breathes, a flash of something on her face - a glimpse of what lay behind the tough and go-get-them mask she wore as the Saints' second-in-command. Death had never been easy on her, especially to those whose names she knew. When Jack takes up the one side of John, she gets to the otherside, and while she doesn't touch him, she uses her ability, eradicating the pain the best she could. She lets Jack ask the questions, but she looks at her nuncle grimly, her jaw set.

John can't talk. He's staring up at John, his body spasming as his visible eye slowly turns glassy. But he tries. Because he was Johnny Bravo, part of the Flock. He NEEDS to get this information to Jack…

But then, his breathing gets easier. A little labored, but he's not choking on his own blood. Spittle still flecks his mouth now and then as he tries again, and his voice is barely a whisper, but thanks to Peter's efforts, he will AT LEAST, maybe, live through the day.

Davis straightens up and looks at him. "He found me, sir," he says in the same, clipped accent. "He knew exactly where to go. Don't worry, I had the rest clean up the blood before the other legitimate guests could see. He went around the back. He knew the code, he knew he had to ask for me."

"Emergency….at…Bat…Country," John whispers to Jack, so soft he was barely audible. "Got…there….to find…it…half…destroyed. Bullet holes…in the walls. C….c….Cass…couldn't find her." He coughs, his eyes closing. "Had…to look for…survivors, but…we…we were ambushed. HS…had been there. We knew…too…late. They got her. Killed…my team…en route to you. Only one…left…from the Zeta cell…" He expels a heavy, labored breath. "Got here….s'fast as I could…with all the liquid…'n my lungs. 'm sorry, Shep…was….too…slow…"

Jack's eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He swallows around the lump in his throat. The news of so many losses hits him hard, not to mention Cass being captured. When his grey eyes open again he's regained his composure. "You did good, John. You did real good. Don't worry about your team. We'll get your boys home, I promise you that." He glances up at Elena, then over at Eric and Peter. "Put out the call to anybody's who's not still loungin' in bed. We've got work to do."

"…thank you Davis," Eric says quietly as he nods to the older gentleman. "…we can handle it from here." He trusts the man to know his job very well. Its what he pays him for, its what his father paid him for. He's a trusted agent. Running a hand over his face then he sets the palm of his other hand against the cold wall fo the security center. He thumps his fist against the wall before he nods once towards Jack.

"…I'll get on it right away, I'm sure everyone will be up for this little mission," He murmurs towards Jack and Elena. He knows he will. He hasn't even gotten to bloody well say HI to Cass yet, and now HS has nabbed her. They don't even know where she is. He dosn't know what kind of security they have in place for kidnappings like this.

Why Cass? Thats the question that goes through his head. Why the hell did they kill people just to nab Cass.

They took Cass. "Was Abby there?" Peter asks with a sudden sound of alarm. Please tell him that Abby wasn't there— or that Lachlan had gotten her out or anything. That'd been one of the things the woman'd been most worried about. But at the same time… Times Square. Demonstrations. A painting of a future with Cass and hundreds more dead. He closes his eyes and sits back on his heels. Damnit.

HS. Homeland Security. He doesn't live in these times, but he figures that much out. Jaw tightening, until he gives hints of his current self's photograph, he opens his eyes to look at Jack. Make sure everyone's up? That'd help if he knew where to find everyone.

"I'm in— if you'll have me." This is Cass, after all. She means a lot to him— one of the more important people in his life. Even after she shot him in the leg.

Gold-flecked eyes watch Johnny as he sags at where he lays and closes his eyes. His breathing is shallow, and Peter's healing is already eradicating some of the free-flowing blood seeping through his clothes as the wounds slowly, but surely, knit closed. Elena turns away, her eyes narrowed as she's already trying to think. She and Cass usually thought on the same wavelength, and Eric was right. -Why- Cass? After all this time, with the President knowing where she lived and what she did. Why now? Something was up. Half of Bat Country was in ruins. Maybe…

Peter's offer is expected. She looks at him, her expression serious, but the expression is not hostile. It might even be approving.

She looks at Jack. "Gene," she says. "Have him hack into the New York Department of Transportation's traffic controls system. There are traffic cameras set up all over the city to monitor vehicles. It's the HS's system but maybe this time around we could use it against them unless someone on their end is smart enough to shut them off before they attacked Bat Country. If not, we can at the very least figure out which direction they were going."

As for her..

She needed more. She slowly stands up from the floor and looks at Jack. She knows he needs her, but she has to ask. "There might be something left," she tells Jack. "While we prep, I can go. Send me to Bat Country, nuncle."

"We'll need all the help we can get." Grimly serious, Jack nods his thanks to Peter. "Davis. Help me get John to sickbay, then wake everybody up and have them meet Peter, Eric, and myself in in the briefing room. And find me a goddamn medic!" He huffs out another breath, then looks up at Elena. His weathered face is carefully neutral, but he still can't keep a hint of apprehension from flashing in his eyes. Against his better judgement he murmurs, "Go."

Pushing himself away from the wall Eric turns to look at the other Saints in the room and Peter. He is quiet for a moment, his breathing is calm and controled. He sighs finally and shakes his head. The questions of why can wait until later. He just nods towards Peter at the offer. Any help is appriciated, just as Jack said. He pauses though at Elena's words before he sighs and shakes his head. Glancing at Jack he ponders a moment. "…you'll not need me after everyone is there…and Elena will need someone to help incase there are any more survivors." Or bodies. "…we can take one of the trucks." Its a logical enough train of thought, but if Jack is the ultimate boss. If he says stay he'll stay.

…and grumble. That goes without saying though.

After all, he did promise. Not out alone again.

There's a hint of alarm in Peter's eyes when Elena makes her request and he glances at her— then looks back towards Jack as he agrees, then towards Eric as he makes the offer he really wants to make as well… but he can't offer a truck. All he can offer is healing, medical assistance, and possibly a little knowledge of what the old Bat Country used to look like. But even then… he glances down and bites a bit on the inside of his lip. There's definite signs of stress, frustration, but…

"I'm a medic if you can't find anyone," he finally offers weakly, even if that's not what he wants to do to help. If they can't find anyone, though, he is a nurse.

She can see the apprehension in Jack's eyes. And Eric. And Peter. While it is common on Jack's face, Elena's a little surprised. She's unaware of Eric's promise to Prime, and she had forgotten that Peter….THIS Peter…would NEVER leave her to go headfirst into a hot zone by herself despite the fact that she's mastered her abilities. She had been so used in the last few weeks operating alone that teaming up again felt foreign. But she needs to regain that fluidity. She was their second-in-command, after all. She needs to know how to fly solo as well as she flies with the flock.

"Once we evac John to medbay and once we call the others into the briefing room, I'll take them both," she says. "If Gene comes across problems hacking into the system, Eric can use his influence to get someone from the Department to grant him access." Plus Eric isn't a bad hacker himself. "And he can get in the places he knows about that are blocked by debris using his Shadowalk. Peter…" Needs training. And he needs to -see- just what these people are capable of doing. Kill two birds with one stone. "…if he's going to help us out with Cass, he might be able to pick things up using his Precognitive abilities. I know Cass, she's probably got a few hiding places in the untouched parts of Bat Country. I don't know all of them anymore, but the damage could've rendered them visible, and if that's the case, he can use his TK to clear out the debris and break through walls."

She was familiar, still, with Peter's file, and she -trained- Eric herself. She knew what both were capable of, and given how her mind works, she puts together the method to the madness in seconds. Whenever, if ever, Jack gives his approval, she'll nod, and lean over to peck her nuncle's cheek. And then, she'll hurry out of the room to suit up.

This is Jack's team. This is what they've trained to do. Despite a strong desire to rush blindly into the fray himself, he knows his place as a leader is here. Coordinating. Organizing. He glances at Eric and Peter, then fixes his gaze on Elena. "Take them. I'll rest easier while I'm handling things here if I know they'll be watching your back. Go on, before I change my mind." He staggers to his feet, supporting John's upper body while Davis handles his legs. Between them they trundle the unconscious man off in the direction of the medical quarters.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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