11041/It Always Goes Down At the Docks

It Always Goes Down At the Docks
Date of Scene:	11 February 2020
Location:	Fort Joseph, Haven
Synopsis:	Nightwing and Kestrel descended upon the unknowning thugs below to put an end to the arms deal.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Carrie Kelley

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Nightwing has posed:
It is another cold, Bludhaven evening and despite the fact that there is only a light dusting of snow partially covering the ground -- large patches still very much showing pavement beneath -- it is undeniably a winter's evening. The cold breeze off the water makes it impossible to deny that possibility, the wind distinctly icy and cutting and extremely unpleasant. Not a night to be out and about if you have any choice in the matter. But it would seem that quite a few residents of the 'Haven don't have a choice.

The docks of the Bludhaven Port. Not exactly prime real estate despite having a great deal to do with the financial viablity of the city. What little there is of it. They are shabby and rundown, a shadow of what one might find in Gotham or other, more vibrant East Coast ports that insure the flow of goods across the country and the world. The surrounding warehouses all feel somewhat... dilapidated, stark concrete walls a mass of graphitti that looks to be covering old graphitti. Docks seem to sag forlornly as the stretch out into the cold waters of the Atlantic, the berths at best half-used, the cranes and laborers that hum and buzz with activity during the day, absent. No twenty-four hour port this, the place is left mostly in the dark, in the shadows. But then, many of the residents of Bludhaven prefer it that way.

At least one figure who does frequent the area huddles on a nearby roof, having taken shelter by the upthrust ventilation shaft of warehouse beneath his feet. It offers him a little shelter from the wind, if not the icy chill that seems to penetrate the stark black and blue outfit he wears. He occasionally lifts a pair of binoculars to his masked visage, peering out over the docks, waiting. Waiting to see if the tip he received was reliable. Waiting to see if there will indeed be a reason for him to intervene tonight. And waiting to see if the request for backup he sent out earlier in the evening has reached any friendly, available ears...

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The request for backup didn't fall on deaf or indifferent ears. It was often enough that Nightwing had come out to help them in Gotham. Ignoring Bludhaven would be a tough thing to do. Kestrel had once patrolled in Bludhaven along with him while Batman attempted to figure out how to deal with her presence to begin with. It was one of those brush off attempts that hadn't worked out as he had intended. Now she finds herself returning here to lend aid when asked.

Landing neatly on the rooftop not far behind the crouched Nightwing, she hunkers low to keep her profile from being seen against the night sky. A little silent greeting is given as she tips her head toward him coming up alongside and peering out into the night where he was looking.

"So. What's up?"

Nightwing has posed:
Really, he would have been surprised if no one showed up. As a generally rule their 'family' is pretty good about looking out for one another. But things come up some times. There could easily be an emergency in Gotham that called for attention, or everyone could be following up on their own cases. It doesn't seem like crime is going out of style anytime in the near future so it would appear that they all are going to have plenty to keep them occupied for the foreseeable future.

While he never looks up from his surveillance of the closest dock, Nightwing does give a little nod of his head as Kestrel lands nearby and creeps on over to join him. "Thanks for making it out this way," he offers, finally lowering the binoculars long enough to glance her way, shooting her a brief grin. "As to what's going on, that remains to be seen. It depends on how accurate my source is," he offers up by way of clarification. "I was shaking down one of my informats earlier today and he spilled a little something. According to him there is supposed to be a shipment of arms waiting for delivery here on that ship over there," he offers up, jerking his head in the direction of the cargo ship out at the nearby berth. "Apparently one of the local gangs is due to pick it up tonight. I guess tensions are starting to run a little high between some of them and I don't particularly fancy a war breaking out on the streets," he notes, lifting those binoculars once more as he peers back towards that pier. "Probably because all those guns usually end up aimmed squarely at me eventually!"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel flashes a grin back toward Nightwing when he glances her way explaining the situation. "Why do they always try to run guns through the harbor? They ought to learn by now we always catch on," she points out with a little shake of her head. Then again if the criminals got smarter that would just make things more difficult for them as well. "Point. I'm not fond of them either. Though I think that's how Jaybird restocks his supplies sometimes."

She shifts a bit to drape her arms over her bent knees watching off toward the area where the potential swap was supposed to happen. "Well, I'll hang out with you till they do something. Or even if they don't. Been on plenty of those nights myself." Of course, she was half assured that was just Batman testing her patience and reliability.

Nightwing has posed:
Patience is something that is greatly needed in this sort of job. More then a few nights are spent like this, hanging out in the cold and dark, watching and waiting on the basis of... questionable sources at best. Evaluating the source is important, but it is hard to ignore anything remotely credible, knowing that it can lead to greater tragedy later. So he will sit here and see what happens, and put aside the thought that there might be other crimes out there in the dark night that he is turning a blind eye to instead.

"You would think, right? But no, that doesn't seem to be the case. I don't know, I almost hope nothing comes of it. I'm thinking that if no one shows up in the next half hour maybe we hit the ship and go searching for this stockpile instead. It might be a little trickier finding it in the cargo hold then right out in the open on the docks but I don't want the night to be a complete wash," he says with a little sigh. "Thoughts?" Yup, he's a tad more democratic then the big bad Bat when it comes to soliciting opinions.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel hums thoughtfully at the suggestion of searching the ship. Reaching back she lightly taps the side of her own mask to increase the magnification as she glances over the ship. "Might not be a bad idea. Metal detection won't work great on it so it'll be a case of actually cracking open the containers... Or finding ones suspiciously labeled or guarded." She chews on the inside of her cheek trying to ponder the best options on it.

"It would be more proactive than just sticking out here all night. Though one of us might want to hold back to keep an eye out if we do search the ship. That," she adds as she taps the side of her mask again to return the view to normal. "Or set up a trip wire to warn us in case we're being snuck up on."

Nightwing has posed:
To be certain it is a reasonable compromise, even if it carries its own sets of risks. There is no guarantee of just how many individuals might be on that ship, or how they might be armed. Nor is there any guarantee that those seeking to buy the weapons won't show up while they are split up, potentially leaving the one who remains outside in a tight spot as well. Still, it's not as if they aren't used to finding themselves in a bit of a fix afterall. "Could work," Nightwing agrees with a slow nod as he lowers the binoculars. "So. Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who goes in and who stays out?" he suggests with a sardonic smile.

Fortunately it won't be left to random chance it seems, as before the pair can resort to that there is the sudden buzz of activity onboard the ship. A half-dozen men appear with crates on trolleys, rolling them down towards the dock itself. From the roadway that weaves in amongst the warehouses surrounding the wharfs headlights begin to cast their glow as a pair of unmarked black vans pull up next to the dock in question. Doors open -- front and back -- and a quartet of men emerge from both vehicles. Fourteen men in total swiftly coverging. What are the chances that any of them aren't armed?

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel smirks at the rather childish means of selecting. Though it was as good a method as any given it didn't truly matter which of them went. Each would face their own level of danger given the situation. She begins to hold up a fist just as the vans screech up drawing her attention back to the situation at hand with a shake of her head. "Well well, that's helpful," she mutters quietly.

"Times like this I really enjoy having a slingshot on me. Gas pellets?" She suggests as she fishes the item out of the pouch on her thigh. "Or smoke pellets? Or just see how many we can take down before they notice?"

Nightwing has posed:
As those vans drive up, Nightwing raises those binoculars once more -- to get a better look, certainly, but also because like so many of their Bat-gadgets, this one also does more then might be apparent, recording the images, capturing the faces of the thugs below so they have a chance to be identified later. Stopping this arms deal might be important, but it is just one deal in the grand scheme of things. There is the potential for there to be a whole lot more to this afterall. "There, that one. In the black hoodie with the submachine gun draped over his shoulder getting out of the lead van. I recognize him. Freddie Rossi. He's one of the lead enforcers for the Deevers mob," he says.

They have as much intel as they're going to get for now. All there is to it at this point is to get down there and mix it up. The rest can wait. "Hey, there's two of us. Lets double the fun. You dispense the gas, I'll take care of the smoke. May our enemies cry in confusion," he offers with a grin. The numbers might not favor them, but when has that ever stopped them, right? Hopping up on the ledge, the dark haired vigilante's hand is already darting towards his supplies. "Let's do this. Don't get shot." As far as plans go it might be simple, but certainly to the point.