10012/Knightfall: Staking out

Knightfall: Staking out
Date of Scene:	12 November 2019
Location:	Coventry, Bristol Township
Synopsis:	Batwoman and Oracle are out looking for more Possessed in Coventry, but instead run into bikers moving heavy weapons. Something else afoot in the rich neighborhood?
Cast of Characters:	Oracle, Batwoman
Cast of NPCs:	Knightfall
Tinyplot:	Coventry Murders

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Oracle has posed:
Coventry has been suspiciously quiet since the gang land shoot out that saw the deaths of several high profile members of two competing gangs working out of the wealthy Gotham district. Babs had kept monitoring despite this, careful about her search to narrow down the last remaining hold outs, running them to ground and was just about ready to pay them a visit to hand them eviction papers.

Seated on the marque of the Wine and Dine Theatre, the black clad woman took advantage of the natural shadows created by the signs bright display to keep a low silhouette in the otherwise sparce archetectural design of the rustic, near rural, Downtown area. Prometheus cellphone laid on her leg, she has one sneaker up and the other dangling over the side of the building while she absently fiddles with the wrist display on one gauntlet. "You should have seen his face after you left." Babs jokes into her throat mic. Her helmet was off, collapsed down into her armored chest plate and the hood laid down against her black jacket. Grinning to herself, she took another glance down at the display of her phone, checking the drone recordings fed through to satellites, bounced off the Array back at the Clocktower, and beamed down to the highly modified cellular device.

Batwoman has posed:
"You have no idea how badly I wanted to stick around and watch his reaction." Kate replies in her own mic. Her perch is across the street on a high-rise apartment building. No, not on the actual roof but 4 floors up on the fire escape. With drones in the air there's no need for actual eyes-on-target tactics, and she takes full advantage of the intel.

Standing against the wall, the red lining of her cape hidden under the furled folds, Batwoman does her best impression of being an invisible part of the wall. And it's a damn good impression. They're running a joint action tonight, with Kate as the primary striking arm.

Oracle has posed:
"I'll send you the recording when we get back to the Tower." Babs has a laugh in her voice, a whimsical sound that it has lacked for a long time, but her attention is razor sharp and laser focused. She might be in a good mood, but she's still on the job. Taking the quiet for granted is a good way to have things go pear shaped, even if in a place like Coventry where the crime rate is low enough that kids actually still Trick or Treat well into the night.

The crimes are a little different here anyways. More White Collar, but there's been an up-tick in assaults over the last month or so. Which wouldn't be too surprising, except nothing was stolen.

Some block or so away, one of Babs drones pings off a potential escalation behind a local pub. A pair of shady looking bikers speaking quietly in the shadows of the Exit sign. "You see that?" Oracle is feeding tactical directly to Kate, a small access window of intel on the HUD. "Can't hear what they're saying, but I've got facial recognition on one of the two..."

Phone in hand, thumbs moving expertly over the screens keyboard. "Joseph Laramoore, Road Captain for the Flying Dutchmen Motorcycle Club. He's got outstanding warrents... aggrevated assault, terroristic threats, and trafficing.." A pause, a quiet chuckle, and the sisssss snap snap of her mask erecting itself around her face. When she speaks again it's in a digitally distorted voice, "Want to put the fear of the Gods in him?"

Batwoman has posed:
"Promise? Our paths haven't crossed since that little exchange, so I'm curious to see what else he has to say about it." Kate offers. After a moment she adds. "It's good to hear you laugh, by the way." Kate's job tonight is mostly lurking. Lurking and waiting to descend, much like her namesake. Batwoman enjoys working these ops with Barbara, in whatever guise she happens to be wearing. Stay hidden, watch the intel scroll across the HUD. Sure beats infrared optics.

Kate watches the tactical display, voice shifting into a more business-like tone immediately. "Roger that. Outstanding warrants? Activing full Bat-mode, setting for maximum terror." she replies. "Pincer maneuver? I can take him down..."

Batwoman is already moving, padding quietly along the fire escape for a better vantage on the target.

Oracle has posed:
"It's good to have something to laugh about." Babs hops up from her perch and makes a dash across the rooftop, not even flinching before she leaps out, turns just enough to toss a line and reel behind her on the corner of the building, and letting tension dangle her down into a rolling descent in the alleyway below. The line is severed as she moves away from her previous position, stopping only long enough to reposition the drones overhead to provide Overwatch for any potential lurking secondary targets.

"Yeah, three. And that's just in Gotham.." Says the distorted voice, adjusting through her visual fields as she approaches the bar a block over. She doesn't have to move quickly, she's backup and threat deturrence should more bikers show up. "I didn't realize they were working in this area. Must be trying to fill the vacuum... I can't recognize the other guys cut, but it looks familiar.. definitely not local."

Oracle pauses on the corner of a building two over and pulls her black jacket off the 3D printed, pistol model taser gun holstered on her right hip, but is looking down at her phone rather than directly around her, thumbing open programs. "Let me know just before you leap in, I want to show you some of my new tricks."

Batwoman has posed:
Batwoman is also on the move, although she's charting a slightly different course to approach from the other side. Swing up, then sprint across the rooftop to the back side. Another grapple catches and she swings over, following the rooftop express. It'll take Kate a little longer to get into position, and she keeps half an eye on the drone footage in her HUD.

"Some of your new tricks? Any other time and a girl -might- be inclined to take that out of context." she quips back. "I'm around the corner now, easing into position. Third floor fire escape."

The third floor. It's high enough to offer a good vantage and provide enough kinetic energy in a descent. Yet not -so- high that landing on a perp wouldn't absorb most of that energy.

Kate's breathing slows in the mic. "Okay, I'm in position. Going to start with flash-bangs on the far side before I swing down, unless you have other ideas."

Oracle has posed:
"Later." Babs says in her distorted voice that still manages to catch the humor in her single word answer to Kate's joke about new tricks. The whole design of the Oracle armor is to blend in. She learned pretty early on in her crime fighting that she couldn't fight like the other bat family. She isn't as big as them, certainly not as big as Bruce, and couldn't throw the same kind of physical brutality that they could.. even Damian was better suited to that straight up fist fighting than Barbara was naturally.

She relied, instead, on her mobility. Naturally lithe and small (relative) stature to accomplish the same. The armor takes full advantage. Aside from the breast plate, all of it is (to some extent anyways) cloth and offers full free range of motion. As 'Batman' she couldnt' FIGHT like Batman. She fought like a hundred and fourty pound girl... Which, if anyone ever asked, made her ten times as dangerous.

More so now that she's got technology buttoned to her fist in the form of the Prometheus phone.

"Keep your flashbangs. Go on my signal." The phone is held up in one gauntleted hand, "Two, one. Go." Remote access to the power grid gives her unilateral control of the electric flow through the junction boxes all along main. One interrupted signal, followed by a loop, first flashes the lights until the bulb snaps in a shower of filaments, then flickers the red EXIT sign in a red strobbing effect that makes situational awareness immediately around the suddenly startled pair of thugs kind of difficult..

Unless someone where wearing visual augmented cowls...

Which Kate and Babs are.

Batwoman has posed:
"Tease." Kate replies evenly. And then Oracle starts the countdown and Batwoman braces. The trio of thugs is just around the corner and about 25 feet down. She is, as far as they're concerned, just a dark silhouette blending in with the drainpipe.

The street light explodes and the EXIT sign begins flashing wildly, drawing all eyes immediately. It's a human reaction that all of the Bats exploit in one form or another: bright flashy things demand attention. With all the sound of an owl's whispered wings, Batwoman swings out from her perch...

Batwoman hits them from behind, of course. Both feet land in the unnamed thug's back, angled just -so- to push him bodily into Laramoore with the full momentum of her hundred-fifty pounds. All three go down, but only Batwoman tumbles free and comes up on her feet.

Booted feet are heavy on the pavement as she approaches, cape billowing and voice lowering to a husky growl. "Get up! Please... I dare you."

Oracle has posed:
Oracle watches from the small viewable screen fed to her HUD by the drones circling quietly above. Batwoman collids with the first thugs back and shoves him forward with enough force to smash Laramoore's forehead against the hard bricks, but not nearly so hard as to knock him out... he's dazed, but already starting to get back to his feet before Kate has even had a chance to issue her challenge. The one she hit directly sprawls and clambers away from her towards something he'd dropped, which brings him closer to the dark figure circling out around the corner of the bar into the red strobbing light with a telescopic baton in one hand and a phone that's almost as heavy in the other.

"Must be important.." The distorted voice says, head tilting beneath the black hood pulled up over the pointed ears of the mask she's wearing. Green glowing eyes watch the man as his forward crawl turns into a threatening crouch. "Bitch, I will fuck you up..." Babs just nods, "They all say that."

Laramoore, the bigger of the two, puts two fingers to his forehead and brings them away bloody. "Oh that's fucking cute..." As he pulls himself to his feet and turns to practically tower over Batwoman. Easily closer to seven than six foot. "You sure about this darlin'? Aint no harm in realizing you made a mistake and beating feet... before I beat your ass. I'd prefer not to hit a broad." pause break, "But I fuckin' will."

Batwoman has posed:
Batwoman stands her ground, even allowing Laramoore to reach his feet. Hands on hips, cape furled back, he's taller even with her boot heels. Beneath the black-beaked cowl those red lips pull back into a wicked smile. They're both out of sparring range, at least for the moment. Which is fine for the Bat.

Unlike most of the Bats, Kate's training is 100 percent military. Her fighting style is neither clean nor pure, but an amalgamation of styles that suits her physical strengths. And designed to disable an oppoent with speed and efficiency.

"You think you're the first one to tell me that, Laramoore?" she quips back. Let him chew on the fact that she knows his name.

The woman cocks an arm back and cape whirls as she approaches with a telegraphed move. After the first swish of fabric, however, she dips low and sweeps the side of his knee. Even big guys have to stand somehow. And as he goes down, armored knuckles just lightly press the side of his neck... making enough contact to discharge a 50,000 volt tazer.

Oracle has posed:
Laramoore's shit eating grin fallers slightly when Kate calls him out by name, "Oh, so you're one of those uppity bitch know it alls... aight." Big hammer fists come up, doing what big guys like this oft do when trying to appear threatening and it isn't working, escalate.. double down by cracking his knuckles. That silliness is his undoing. That and thinking the fight was over before he'd every thrown a punch.

His knee buckles out to the side under Kate's punch and his own weight, there's a sharp hiss of pain that is followed by a shout of agony when 50k runs through the back of his shoulders like a cattle-prod. To his credit, it only bring him down onto his hands and knees... but he's drooling as he tries to stand back up.

He likely wont make it.

Babs isn't having much more trouble on her end.

The guy who was with Laramoore straight bumrushes at her, which was a mistake from the moment he came out of the crouch. She had him pegged when his weight shifted, she had him beat when he threatened her. Rather than try to take the charge, she side steps, turns her hips enough to present nothing for him to grab, and pointing her chest back towards his back as he rushes past her. The hand holding her cellphone hooks in behind the leather of his cut and yanks with surprising force augmented by the big gauntlets she's wearing. He's pulled up and off his feet as her left hand comes over and down with the baton, bodily bringing it point down into his solar plexus as he falls, stabbing it nearly to cracking his sternum when the concrete breaks his fall and knocks the wind out of him.

"You talk too much." She says, mask to open, guppy breathing, mouth.

Batwoman has posed:
Kate has Laramoore right where she wants him, now. Shaking, disoriented, and on hands and knees. Struggling to rise. Again those red lips pull back into a grin and she actually waits for him to get one foot under him.

The kick to the face would have made her combat instructor proud. It also leaves a boot imprint on Laramoore's cheek as his head jerks to the side. "Say 'Good-night, Gracie'..." she growls as he kisses the pavement.

Knee settling heavily into his back, Kate hears the cracks and thuds nearby and only spares Oracle a glance as she applies zipties to Laramoore's wrists.

Oracle has posed:
Laramoore doesn't even move. It almost isn't fair..

His head snaps back with the soccer kick to the face and he falls like a marientte with the strings cut.. not even a grunt when he faceplants directly into the dirt. Zipties aren't a problem and Babs has the other thug restrained shortly thereafter, which leads directly into going through his pockets for identification. "Sabastian Curtis, New York City resident." She calls out to Batwoman, holding up the license indicatively.

Her search is pulled up short when there's the sound of more motorcycles out front of the bar.

A lot more.

At least four, but probably more like a half dozen.

The glowing eyes of Oracle's mask cut back to Kate. "Target rich environment." Drones hover, moving out and over the top of the bar to get a birds eye of the front, confirmation count leading to a brisk nod. "Seven, all Dutchmen. One prospect in a slam van."

Oracle rises from her crouch and walks casually over to Batwoman, "Probably heavy arsenal in that van. These guys deal in military arsenal out of Utah."

Green eyes on the other, unknown, figure. "Sin Eaters MC. Humanists poli-MC.. like to string up mutants and pull them behind their bikes in mutant town."

Batwoman has posed:
Kate Kane rises slowly, leaving the unconscious Laramoore on the pavement. Her cape furls once more, concealing her hands beneath the black fabric. Nodding to Oracle, Batwoman watches the tactical data scroll across her HUD. "Got it." she replies, voice low enough for her mic.

"How do you want to do this, then? Want the van or the ground troops?" On a night like this Kate is armed with explosive bat-a-rangs as well as high caliber pistols. Among other things.

"I almost hate to waste time sending these guys to the E.R. when there are so many others who really need good medical care."

Oracle has posed:
Babs smirks behind her mask, hood turning back towards the back entrance of the bar. Even through the wall it's easy to hear the group shouting something about fucking electric grid in Gotham, what with the power fluctuations. "I can disable the van and come in the front, but that leaves you six inside..." The hood angles back to Kate, head tilting a little, "Is that too many?" The playful tone is implied through the distortion of her mask.

One gauntlet hand reaches out to rock Batwoman's shoulder affectionately and Oracle is Oscar Mike back the direction she entered, around the side of the building back into the shadows of the alleyway. "Remote hacking the security system to feed you tactical from inside. Spotty visual, though and tons of interference from the energy loop."

Intel isn't always perfect, but it's still better than most would get, when Oracle is involved. "I can strengthen the signal, but it'll take a few minutes and give them visibility or I can kill power and give you full cover inside. Your call."

Batwoman has posed:
"Not if I fight dirty." Batwoman quips back. Which is sort of a given. Reaching up to give that gauntlet hand a light brush with her own, gloved fingers, Kate replies. "Kill the power. I'm switching to infrared. Go ahead and disable the van. We'll go old-school on this one." And then she is on her way inside.

Waiting for Oracle's signal on the power, Batwoman is a master of the bait-and-switch. A Bat-a-rang whirls out and then crashes through a window on the return pass. It turns everyone's attention away from the door as Batwoman slips inside.

Infrared scans of the room show perps in light green, along with a few ash trays. There are a couple of pool tables as well, and the cold drinks show up darker than everything in the background.

Oracle has posed:
Babs grins inside her helmet, leaning back against the brick wall of the alley with a quick glance out and around the corner at the lone prospect smoking a cigarette up against the side of the Van. "Killing power." She says through her throat mic, indicator pressed and the entire block is descended into darkness. It's an easy enough fix, but it creates all kinds of chaos inside the small bar for Kate to take advantage of.

"What the fuck man.. this is what's wrong with Gotham, can't even watch a fuckin' game without the power flickerin'.." Says one of the bikers inside, who quickly shouts "Shit! Bats!" When the bata-rang nearly takes his ear off.

The prospect don't know no better. He barely even sees it coming. Babs replaces her baton on the hook attached to her belt and cross pulls her heavy duty taser gun as she walks purposefully through the darkness towards the young hood who is just looking around all anxiously now that the lights are out outside. Gotham is dark as hell.

The electrodes feeding the young man 50k to the chest is a flickering blue-white strobe leaving him convulsing on the concrete. Babs cuts the carteridge and feeds another, holsters the big pistol, and pulls open the back of the van. "Jackpot."

Inside, Six bikers are clambering around, bumping into each other and trying to get a bead on whoever it is the first said was arrived. Should have practiced low-light ops.. silly men.

Batwoman has posed:
Batwoman can see everyone clearly enough with her IR filters, of course. Oh, good, someone left their cue stick on the pool table. Kate is capable of handling 6 on 1 odds in an even match, with some effort and tactics. In the dark, with her having the advantage of night vision? It's almost unfair.

There's a whirl and a cry in the darkness as the cue stick takes one biker behind the knees, followed by a loud crack as she breaks it across his temple.

"FUCK! SHIT! WHERE ARE THEY!" A couple of the bikers converge in the general direction of the sound, bumbling into each other.

The soft smack of leather against flesh preceeds another heavy thump as Batwoman takes another down. She works systematically, taking them out one by one like a noctournal hunter.

When the last one goes down the sparks of her glove tazer illuminates the bar briefly. Then Batwoman speaks into her throat mic. "All clear inside."

Oracle has posed:
Babs was on her way towards the front of the bar when the all-clear sounds through her masks comms unit, "Huh... show off." She murmurs, distorted, but still very amused despite that. The lights flicker back on a moment later, a ceiling fan starts to spin dispursing the growing cloud of cigarette smoke, and the Gotham Knights game flashes onto the television mid-snap. Through the windows, lights are returning as Oracle steps inside, a black smear on the white glow of freshly lit bulbs.

Green eyes stravel from one groaning biker to the next and finally land on Batwoman, "Is it my turn to make a lewd reference to mating rituals or yours? I've lost track." She muses, slipping zipties from a pouch to help get the bikers bound. "GCPD are in bound on an anonymous tip of a fight breaking out in the club. We've got three our four minutes before they get here." This is the good part of town. The sound of sirens is already audible in the distance.

It's enough time for Babs to take a look at some of the bikers, check them from bruises and wounds not related to Kate beating the shit out of them. "These don't look like any of the zombie victoms.. still a good bust, though."

Batwoman has posed:
Batwoman stands more or less in the center of the bar, with semi-conscious bodies littering the room. Red lips pull back into a grin again and she quips back. "Mating rituals, with THIS lot?" And there's even a wink behind the cowl's eyepieces, not that anyone would notice.

While Barbara starts inspecting the bodies, Kate starts at the other end of the crowd to do the same. "Do we need any for questioning, or leave them to the Boys in Blue?" she asks. "Doesn't seem like what we're really looking for, after all. But a few nights in a holding cell wouldn't do any of these boys harm."

Oracle has posed:
"No, with this lot." Babs is kneeling down getting facial scans, but brings up a gauntlet to motion between the pair of them, Kate and she, "It was a reach, my humor bone is sore." She admits with a snort, standing up with hands on her knees. "Shouldn't no. I'm curious why they're working with a gang out of New York, but I imagine it has something to do with Black Mask working with Shredder and the Foot Clan." On a guess.

That's still an issue ontop of Zombies.

"They've got an RPG in that slam van.. Definitely picking up the pace. Not sure why they'd move it through Coventry, though." Unlikely to find out now, either. The sirens are close. "Ready to hit the pavement?" Green eyes on Batwoman.

Batwoman has posed:
"Why in the hell would you bring an RPG into Coventry, or Gotham at all?" Batwoman wonders aloud, although the sounds of approaching sirens brings her out of that reverie and back to more pressing concerns. Giving the nearest biker a kick in the ribs... for the RPG... she nods and heads for the nearest door.

"Roger that. Let's clear out." She leaves the Bat-a-rang behind, wherever it is. The GCPD can add it to their collection.

"Why can't anyone ever just enjoy a -quiet- night in Gotham anymore?"

Oracle has posed:
Babs couldn't possibly agree anymore with that sentiment as the pair of them escape out the backdoor in through which Batwoman arrived and disappear into the relative quiet of the surrounding area. "Link back up at the Tower?" She asks with a side glance a half second before slipping away by alley towards her motorcycle several blocks away beneath a camo-net.

The GCPD got an easy collar, a total of 9 purps and enough weapons to pin them on multiple felonies, nevermind what ever weapons they may have had on their persons. All in all, good night to be a Bat, bad night to run afoul of them.

As she mounts her motorcycle, two fingers press a button on her neck to collapse her mask down into the neck of her armor. Her hood keeps her mostly hidden, however, as she cranks and starts back towards the Clocktower.