1276/The Maroon Berets.

The Maroon Berets.
Date of Scene:	04 July 2017
Location:	South America
Synopsis:	The Blackhawks go to find about their new job, and get into more than what they bargained for. Grace debuts as a potential recruit into the team.
Cast of Characters:	Lady Blackhawk, Grace Choi, Little Blackhawk, Black Canary

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Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Belmopan Belize is, well it's enough to remind Zinda of home. It's hot and muggy and thoroughly terrible, even if there's a stiff breeze blowing in from the East. There is unfortunately enough mosquitos, horse flies and god knows what else all buzzing around to invalidate any nice breeze really. On the plus side, well the Airport is small and neat and almost cute in how basic the thing truly is. Not hard to get a PC-12 in, but well the ride down south had been thoroughly uneventful.

    "Alright girls, snag your gear and lets get rolling. We've got a government car thats supposed to pick us up in uh"And a pause as Zinda checks her watch "Fifteen minutes. Elliot, Sweetpea be a doll and get everything shut down. I'll snag the luggage alright?"Jump boots, short pleated skirt, that famous tunic, crush cap and neat white gloves. It's the Lady Blackhawk of legend alright, made all the more potentially fearsome as she slips out of the cockpit with her pistol webwork temporarily slung over shoulder and a shorty little M16 type deal in her off hand. "Grace, you're with me. Time to get those big muscles workin honey."

    And so the door drops, and in come the bugs and the sounds of distant gunfire. Welcome to Belize.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace has completey changed her wardrobe. She's now wearing a black half-top instead of an orange one. And tan cargo pants, instead of green. Her first nation tattoos are proudly, as always, on display. And thick cargo jungle tromping boots are on her feet. She has to stoop. A lot. To get out of the plane. "God -damn-," she says, standing up to her full height, "That was cramped."
    Grace takes a very long moment to strech out. Fully out. Her muscles ripple beneath the skin on her arms, and her abs, and her curves strain against the fabric of the half shirt until she allows herself to coil back to a more natural position. She rolls her shoulders and nods to Zinda, "With you."
    Grace does not take a single weapon unto herself. At the sound of the gunfire in the distance, she says, obligingly, "Looks like they're celebrating our arrival." That comment is followed by a savage grin.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "Yes, ma'am," Elliot clals shortly. The diminutive Little Blackhawk is already hard at work. She knows the routine by now and effortlessly goes through all the checks and protocols involved in shutting down withotu skipping so much as a beat or a single check on her list. The metaphorical windshield wipers certainly work on this bird.
    It isn't actually terribly long before Elliot is emerging, looking very much like the miniature spitting image of Zinda. Jump boots, short pleated black skirt, Blackhawk tunic, gloves... The biggest differences are her rank insignia and hairstyle- Elliot has her hair pulled back into a neat bun to keep it away from her face. And the fact that the girl is several inches shorter, of course.
    Messenger bag over a shoulder, M4 carbine across her back, pistol holstered against her left thigh at approximately the 7:30 position. The young miniature Blackhawk has a relatively solemn expression as she cants her head slightly to the left and surveys their surroundings with wide blue eyes.
    "Nearest gunfire is three and a half blocks out, give or take... On our five." Elliot nods in that direction for emphasis. Then she briefly bites her bottom lip and reaches up to gesture toward her right ear, tapping it with a finger. To Grace she offers, "I don't think we're being camped. Sniper positions are manned by airfield security..."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    "From the radio chatter, I believe that's the government fighting it out with the army."Zinda rolls her shoulders, as she leads grace around the back of that dull grey Pilatus. A tug, and she's popped open the cargo bay where the rest of their gear is stashed. "The Army are the bad guys, so anyone in camo should be treated with caution. The Cops -also- wear camo though, and they're on the right side down here. So R-O-E is simple, if they fuck with you fuck'em back with however much force you think is necessary."

    Casually she pulls on that crisp white gunbelt, and the shoulder strap. A pause to check those polished SS Hudsons, before she holsters up. "So we're not on contract to do jack shit down here, yet. We'll be hitching a ride to the governor's office to review the terms of the contract, and if we don't like it we walk. They paid us plenty just to come down and discuss terms."And a pause as she turns to eyeball a trio of black sedans stopped at the airport gate. "Which is a fucking ugly sign. E&E is first this bird, if that doesn't work we break for Belize City on the coast."
    And a pause as Zinda stuffs that carbine in the cargo bay, only to retrieve that Auto-5 she's so well known for. "Anyone who pays you just to talk contracts is either way more desperate than they want you to know, or they're planning something. So fangs out ladies, and stay together."

Grace Choi has posed:
    "That's a lot of talking, for just, "Beat the shit out of anyone shooting at you, until we get to the governer's office," Grace observes, with a very casual, and very undisicplined sort of attitude.
    From the gear, Grace grabs a pair of fingerless gauntlets. Reinforced, and likely might deflect a few bullets, or something of that nature. She slams one fist, solidly, into the other and that seems to be all she really needs for the present.
    "Lead the way," she tells Zinda, and Elliot. "When the fighting breaks out, I'll clear us a path. They won't know what hit them."

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "That makes sense," Elliot agrees, though Zinda has to repart part of it once. Grace, it seems is more intelligible and gets a firm nod from the smaller blonde. Elliot is taking a deep breath and then falling into place behind Zinda, walking just ot her left and a step behind. She shifts slightly from left to right.
    "The armoured corset is... Different," the girl offers somewhat sheepishly as she briefly tugs at her top. "Better than being shot... Those police officers don't seem to be too happy about the sedans coming in." She shifts her weight form left to right and then finally takes a deep breath.
    "Shooting is moving a bit closer. We should get to our ride." Finally ELliot's gaze ventures- up- and she looks Grace in the eyes for a moment venturing quietly, "... Being shot isn't so much an issue, for you?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    "It's good for the posture, and it's not nearly as much of a pain as the real thing."Zinda Rests a forearm casually against her holstered guns as she watches the trio of black Sedans finally slip past the security at the gate and begin it's approach. "When I was a girl they were still fashionable you know, kevlar at least does something worthwhile."

    The trio of Sedans slips to a halt, and out steps a trio of older fellows in neat grey suits. "I didn't know the Blackhawks was an all women's team, but we're glad to have you."He offers a forced smile, before opening the back doors on the two lead vehicles. "Please do not linger Ladies, we'll be at the Governor's mansion very shortly and we can discuss matters there. Can I get any of you ladies refreshment?"Zinda glances back at the assembled team, before nodding towards Elliot and moving to take the lead car.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace knows she's there for muscle. She doesn't smile at the politician, but she doesn't look at him with daggers in her eyes, either. As crazy as it sounds, Zinda is probably the better person to talk to politicians than she is. Instead, Grace lifts her head to Dinah, grinning a bit. "So, you do this kind of thing often?" The 7' tall asian red-head asks the curvy blonde, as she ducks, and ducks a -lot-, to get into the second car.

Black Canary has posed:
    Quick footsteps at a jog can be heard behind the group as Dinah comes running up, her face a bit stormy. She's actually in uniform, a step beyond her usual rooftop get-up, which consists of a black one-piece armored leotard, with thick gold stripes over the top of her chests with smaller gold lines running along her sides and midriff, with small armored pauldrons over her shoulders to go with the armored backs of her fighting gloves. Luckily, the high tech armored mesh over her arms and legs breathes impressively well.

    Still, it's hot as hell, so the O-ring attached to the zipper that runs down the front of the outfit from her high collar to her belly button is currently somewhere south of her sternum, baring a generous amount of cleavage in an attempt to provide a little ventilation.

    Which is why she's late.

    "Why do I get the handsy guy?" she mutters. "Possibly smuggling my perfect pert ass..like I could even GET anything under this to smuggle in..."

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "I got one of the handsy guys," Elliot offers helpfully. "I broke his hand. That was the last airport. This is your turn." The smaller, quieer blonde makes tis observation casuall, flashing Dinah a brief smile before moving to get into the car. In this getup the girl's curves are in evidence. She has relatvely slender hips and long, well toned legs that are usually hidden beneath loose clothes. Not now, with Zinda being taken as a role model.
    With a lazy salute for the other two Blackhawks present Ellie follows Zinda into the car. She puts her bag in frsrt and then lays the carbine across her lap as soon as she has climbed inside. Elliot is a nimble little thing if nothing else. "...Water would be nice," she ofers then, blinking as she settles in. "Thank you."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    And they're off at, the blinding pace of somewhere under the posted speed limit. The city is, well lets be frank. It was charming in it's poverty in the best of times, but now it's taken a beating. Stocked shops and stalls are abandoned, some looted. Windows broken, cars overturned and burning. More than a few dead litter the sidestreets, and the odd burning police car or army jeep. The fighting then has been rough, but there is a sizable perimeter around the governor's mansion at least.

    Unfortunately the cops, they look an awful lot like soldiers and vice versa. So it's hard to tell who the bodies out yonder might have been, but here at least there appears to be a reserve of heavily armed men. The cars slow and proceed through checkpoints, until they pass through the battlements and into the mansion's interior courtyard. Walls are covered in potmarked bullet holes here, and there are suspiciously human sized shapes in heavy black bags stacked like cordwood off to one side. Still, the cars draw slowly to a stop. "Well, don't I always take you girls to the nicest places?"
    Theres some muttering between the guys in suits who drove the trio here, and a camo'd fellow in a Maroon Beret before well. Only the fellow in the Beret remains. "Good evening ladies, I do apologize for the rough welcoming. I am Captain Arton Abel, I'm sorry you had to see my country like this. Unfortunately, the Governor was killed earlier this morning. I will be handling the negotiations in his place, shall we retire inside?"And he offers a broad smile, before moving to tug a service door open.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "I didn't get one of the handsy guys," Grace confides to Dinah, as the blonde gets in with her, shooting her one of Grace's savage grins. She states, perhaps somewhat sincerely, "He probably didn't want me to rip it off."
    Still the overly large woman has to sit a bit low in the car, knees pressed hard against the seat. "We should definitely get some beers after this."
    She watches the chaos, and debris, and fires as they drive by with a dispassionate expression, unaffected. But then they're slowing down, parking. And Grace is eager to get out of the car, stand again on her exteremly long, powerful legs, and she looks suspiciously at the man who says the Governor is 'gone'. But, this is Dinah's game. So she'll let Lady Blackhawk handle it.
    Grace just leans back on one leg, crosses her arms over her chest, and waits. Watches. She knows she's the muscle. She -likes- being the muscle. And she's damn good at being the muscle. Everything about her posture states the three other girls are under her protection. And Grace doesn't seem to give a flying squirrel's fart if it offends any of their hosts that she's advertising it.

Black Canary has posed:
    Dinah raises a brow at Grace. "You do kinda have that 'I will break you' vibe going on." she admits cheerfully, settling her more petite figure next to her in the car. At least she's the right size to give Grace the room she needs.

    She purses her lips, watching the wreckage. "...kicked off early, looks like.." she murmurs, before the trip ends and she follows Grace out of the car, standing by by her as she glances around with a professional eye at the soldiers going past and the looks they're getting, but keeping a relaxed stance herself. Zinda can handle the talking, she'll handle the 'making sure no one tries to jump them and kidnap/kill them.'

    As diverting as that would be, given who's here. But better to have the brawl during the victory trip to the pub after the mission.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
ok at.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    "No."Zinda offers quite casually, drawing to a stop where she stands. "Why didn't I get a notification through my co-, better yet let's talk turkey now Pardner."Zinda clears her throat, before glancing back at Dinah and Grace. "You can start by showing my two friends there the Governor's body, and then you can sit the fuck down and I'll consider talking further once I see the cash held in escrow."She does lift a hand to -snap-, because well Zinda's not going inside and neither should Elliot.

    "We, yo..You want to -see- the body Miss?"The Captain lifts a hand to stifle a cough, before glancing back towards the bodies and the front gate. "Oh, well. "He drops a hand to grasp for his sidearm, extending his left hand out to grasp Zinda by the collar of her Tunic.

    Z's in motion in the blink of an eye, grabbing after the Captain's right wrist as her free hand drops to her own pistols. Right there, is about when shit gets real.
Voices call out from inside the mansion, and windows start breaking as gunfire begins pouring down on primarily Dinah and Grace.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace is already moving when the man grabs Zinda by the neck. Grace is -fast-. Much faster, in fact, than a woman her size should be. Much faster than any human has a right to be. The human eye certainly can still track her, but she moves with the speed of a predator chasing down it's prey, arms going wide to clasp the top, and bottom of the vehicle they just rode in. Or, one of them, as the bullets hail down.
    Then, the vehicle is -thrown- towards the area in the mansion where the main gunfire is coming from, and Grace doesn't wait to see what kind of damage it does.
    "Is this really the best they got? A half-assed ambush? Shit. I was dealing with this crap in the slums of Metropolis when I was fifteen." Grace doesn't seem impressed.

Black Canary has posed:
    Dinah was sort of expecting an ambush. Especially when el capitan mentioned the governor's sudden death. In her experience, it all goes to hell when things like that happens.

    As the gunfire begin spanging off the car and the ground around her and Grace she's also on the movie, diving for cover behind it as she moves naturally to cover Elliot, or at least distract from her as a target.

    The flying car is a nice touch. She feels like she should follow that up in suppressing all those guns, her lips parting as she pokes her head out, then inhales....


SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

    A thunder of sound rakes across the front of the building, shattering windows and cracking stonework as she attempts to disorient the shooters long enough to get everyone under cover.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    Elliot is already moving for cover when the guns are coming out. She reacts faster than anyone would believe possible, a pistol shot screaming past her head at close range when it should have removed the top of her skull. Afterward Elliot is reaching for her own pistol- and interrupts the motion by closing on one of the Captain's guards. The man who shot at her.
    Apparently, the girl has been training. She kicks him in the shin, grabs him by the wrist, twists out of the way of a second shot fired haplessly upward and then smashes her elbow into his face before flinging him to the ground, using her hip movement for leverage. The man groans afterward so she kicks him in the face a few times.
    It's all rather sudden. Elliot is much faster than she has a right to be. Borderline superhuman, in fact.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    "Kaibilles!"Zinda shouts as she skins that smokewagon and pours a string of hundred fifteen grain hate pills in the Captain's stomach before she can shake the fucker off her. She takes care to put another in his brainpan before offering a cough. "Dinah, Keep them busy out here. We're going to find the Governor!"Zinda gives Elliot a nod, before casually rolling up her sleeves and rolling those white gloves down to the wrist. "If he's dead we bail, if he's alive we're bringing him with us. Fucker can't pay us if we bail on him, understood?"And a pause to pour a few rounds into a low laying window, before she makes a flying leap through the thing.

    That Outside, that car does a number on the mansion. That Canary call, well it draws a measurable degree of silence. Then slowly, that car rolls foreward before it's left to go tumbling. From the wreckage, well black uniforms and Maroon uniforms. There are just two of them left, and well of course they're meta. Once you've done this cape business for awhile, you get to know the look right?"Peligroso" or so the spraypaint across his chest would indicate, is a big fella. Six five or so, and covered with as much modern body armor as they make. Plus a heavy ballistic shield, which he parts to expose his partner. The uniform is crisp and clean, but well "La Cometa" can't be much older than ten years or so. It's hard to gauge really, because his face and hair are just a mass of horrific scars and thick black stitches. What looks like a massive black knitting needle driven through his head from left to right, explains why his eyes are sewn shut more than likely.

    Cometa just, glances back to his partner before taking a step off into thin air and drifting skyward on the breeze. Withdrawing what looks like a, oh well lovely they gave a freak child a grenade launcher. That's a great idea, go Kaibilles. He lets a tear gas grenade loose after Grace all the same, before cracking the thing back open to start reloading ever so casually.

    Peligroso leaps from the second floor, before he hits the ground hard enough to shatter the concrete beneath him. M60 swinging around from behind to rest on the crook of his shield, before he gets going. Spraying after Canary and Grace both.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Ow. The Scream.
    Nobody told Grace about The Scream.
    She's just glad it wasn't directed at her, and she was behind the blast. And not a part of it.
    Ears ringing, Grace slams one fist into an open palm as the big, armored fellow lumbers into view. Oh. Grace is -ready- for a throwdown slobberknocker of a fight. But then, the kid.
    Something in Grace's savage grin changes. And changes fast. As Cometa begins to drift forwards, Grace is just shaking her head. Her jaw tightening. And the fist, slamming into the other fist stops. And both fists strain, hard.
    Grace's muscles pop. The grenade comes at her, and it's almost as if the tear gas grenade were in slow motion. She bats it aside, careening it effortlessly to her side, opposite of Elliot and Zinda.
    Only Dinah is close enough to hear her, when she says, "I'm going to rip your armor off and shove it down you throat. Every. Fucking. Inch of it."
    Grace, the freight train, runs, full speed at Peligroso, and a full force punch that would smash through the hull of a tank easily smashes into that shield. Grace? Isn't holding back.

Black Canary has posed:
    Well, at least that dealt with a lot of the shooters....but that just cleared the way for the obvious metas. And their light machine gun, which sends Dinah ducking down again as the bullets punch through the jeep like cardboard, hitting the ground to avoid the flurry of fire. She blinks as Grace takes off like a shot, charging through the fire and batting the grenade aside, then slamming into the big guy.

    "Guess Tiny is mine then..." she mutters as Zinda shouts her orders over. "Got it!" she calls back. Which leaves her with the problem of him being in the air and her being on the ground, and her not knowing how much of an impact he can take. And that he's ten. Bad guy points for including a child warrior.

    She pops up as the machinegun fire stops, then nabs one of the mostly empty gas cans on the back, before whirling it around like a discus and letting it fly upwards at the hovering boy with the grenade launcher, already starting to move again to keep from being pinned down by those grenades and to get out of the spreading cloud of tear gas before it can get into her eyes.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    The fact Elliot's response to the Canary Call is so mild lends more credence to the idea she might be partially deaf, admittedly. The girl looks around and then nods brielfy at Zinda, taking off toward the building at a run. Zinda is the ne who walks casually. This girl apparently values cover. She already has her pistol out of its holster, firing two shots into the chest of one of the captain's soldiers- and then dropping down low as a torrent of bullets rip through the air where she had been standing.
    Elliot is now sliding, her rear almost on the ground, feet slipping across the paved stone as bullets ricochet behind her. She's heading right for the soldier in question... Who proceeds to drop dead. It took a moment for his brain to realize he had no heart, apparently.
    Pistol in hand Elliot steps over her fallen foe and moves up to a window beside Zinda's. She is covering Lady Blackhawk with her back against the wall, ready to shoto the first person who pops up with a weapon. There's no reason to hesitate, after all. Even if her hands are shaking. She'll let her thoughts catch up to what her subconscious knows of the current situation later.
    Another of the soldiers comes around a corner inside and is shot, ripping off the bottom half of his jaw. Elliot forces herself to take a deep breath. "They have to have a small army in here! Where would the governor be... Should we check upstairs first?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    It comes over the radio, the humming. It's a simple thing like a lullaby, it sounds like a child humming anyway. He's just, well he gets his grenade launcher reloaded. Then Dinah whips that grenade at him, and the poor kid takes the thing directly to the face. It's enough to get him to drop the grenade launcher, and drift slowly towards the ground. As those humms over the radio, dissolve into cries.

    Peligroso drops that machinegun at the last moment as Grace sprints after his shield, and well he manages to lift that shield at just the right angle before impact. The Concrete beneath him erupts in a cloud of dust and smoke, bits of armor go flying, but Peligroso is still standing right there. Granted with his helmet missing, his own deformities become clear. A similar pointy needle/nail object driven through his skull through the orbits where eyes should be, Lips, nose, ears and eyelids all stitched crudely shut. Still, he doesn't hesitate in wading back in and returning the favor with a swift jab towards Grace's face. He weighs many, many tons more than he has right to. Whilst he may not be all that fast, well he has momentum and that means the guy hits like a wrecking ball if he does connect.

    Inside, well Zinda's route takes them through the kitchen. From there down a series of hallways, but well most of the Kaibiles seem to be bugging out. A few go so far as to throw down their rifles and dump their armor to speed their escape. Zinda doesn't pause, she finds the basement stairs and starts her way down. "Ell, stay on my six! We have time, we just can't afford to miss anything alright?"

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace gets hit, hard, in the jaw, and it rocks her back, to the point of putting her on her back. She sees the man's face, now. And she knows it wasn't the man who did that to Cometa. But that doesn't change how pissed off she is. She rolls to the side, and is up, fast, and she takes two, three, running steps at Peligroso again, as if she were going to smash her fist into him a second time.
    This time, however, is different. At the last moment, using her speed, she feints to the side and slightly passes him before lifting her heel and giving him a back-kick, hard, aimed into the metal-monsters side.
    She's still not holding back. And, she's not at all focused on Dinah, or Cometa. Either she has faith Dinah can hold her own, or she's a bit blind with fury right now. Probably, more, a mixture of both.

Black Canary has posed:
    Beaning the boy with the grenade seems to have worked, if him dropping the launcher and crying is any indication. Some part of her feels a bit bad, honestly.

    Not so bad she doesn't run over to retrieve the grenade launcher, however, both to make sure Cometa doesn't nab it and because she feels like a tear gas grenade or two may be helpful for cover if nothing else. Over the radio, she notes. "Hey Zinda, I have a brand new grenade launcher...need any covering fire? Think it's full of tear gas..."

    She keeps an eye on the odd meta boy, but if he doesn't seem about to attack, she's fine with letting him be for now. After all, having a nail through your head has to seriously suck.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "Tear gas grenade?" Elliot is dashing after Zinda, moving between the various windows first and then following their cover down the length of the kitchen. At one point she has her back to the stainless steel stove. "I think we're going to be alright. Most of them are disarming."
    With that observation made Ellie finds herself behind Zinda on the stairs, half turned in case someone pops out behind them instead of in front. In these close quarters the pistol is held with both hands, barrel kept trained on the entrance to the basement at all times.
     "Actually-" Mentally the girl is doing a feq quick calculations. "You should have a bunch of soldiers coming out on the east side of the building in about thirty seconds. Most of then disarmed themelves but you could always put a grenade through the third window on your left just in case someone has a different idea?"
    That suggestion will work too. At some point Elliot memorized the layout.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Cometa drifts to the ground, and just sort of collapses on the ground for a moment. Then slowly, the boy rises to his boots. "Muerte, muerte,muerte."And with that he rushes foreward in a blinding flash. He hasn't even closed the distance, when the ground erupts in a flurry of dust just infront of Dinah. What follows, presuming she stays still hits like a baseball bat to the knee. Cometa is, well all but bouncing in mid air as if strung up by something unseen. At least he doesn't have his grenade launcher, right?

    Peligroso is not all that quick on his feet, thank god. The problem isn't his speed though. He does attempt to dodge that kick, but it lands hard against his armored ribs. All the same he seems even sturdier than he was before, the immediate punch that follows hits all the harder still. Only now he wades in after it, trying to get a combination of punches strung together after Grace. He has technique, he just doesn't have the speed to land much.

    Down in the basement, well it's ugly. Stacks of body bags, blood everywhere. The pool table has been soaked jet black, and well thats not the concerning thing. There is a videocamera, it's red light isn't on but from where it sat? Somone filmed whatever happened down here. Zinda grunts, this is looking far too familar. "Check the bags Sweetpea, we need a positive ID before we bug out of here."

Grace Choi has posed:
    Grace gets hit. And hit. ANd hit again. This time, she's prepared, though. And while she rocks, she doesn't go flying. Her feet are prepared. The man seems to have gained mass, and she realizes there's only one thing to do, in that case.
    She deflects his hit with her arm, on the fourth punch having seen through the small weakness, and then she lunges forward, grabbing the back of his head, while jumping up.
    Knee, meet unprotected, crazy-distrubing nail-face to slam into it as hard as she can. And, on the downturn as she drops back to the ground, her hand reaches for one of those nails. And if she can get a grip on it? She's pulling it out.
    "Bastards getting fat on me. You found the governor yet?" Grace has a subtle way of explaining people's powers.

Black Canary has posed:
    It's only years of drilled reflex that save Dinah from having a smashed knee, is the sudden movement, prompting her to drop the grenade and to bring down a sharp blocking arm as she crouches. It still draws a pained cry from her as it smashes into her thigh, overbalancing her as she falls backwards, then rolls back up to her feet, wincing a bit. Nano-mesh armor only helps so much with a hit like that!

    "Update: I no longer have the grenade launcher..." she notes over coms as she comes up in an akido stance, Cometa having captures her attention. Speedster. She can't let him set the distance for the match and immediately charges him, launching into a leg sweep as she tries to at least temporarily negate his advantage.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "It looks more like an experiment than a hit," Elliot responds to Zinda a bit numbly. She is reaching into her pocket now, pistol holstered and forgotten, and snapping pictures of their surroundings on a little camera she apparently brought for just this sort of purpose. "...Positive ID. Okay." Elliot takes a deep breath and moves towardo ne of the body bags. he stops, however, when her gaze drops to the camera.
    "I should probably chck for a video tape, right? Maybe we can get an idea of who, um... Did this. If it was someone specific. Or who the other victims are." So saying Elliot does not hesitate in her duties. She opens one of the bag. The girl gags, paling slightly as the overwhelming stench of viscera and gore hits the air, the scent of effluvia from the bowels mixing with blood among the most potent. At least Elliot is wearing gloves... White gloves. They're red by the time she moves to check the next bag.
    Despite her reaction ELliot doesn't hesitate to do as she was ordered. A few splatters of crimson land on the little camera that makes its way to hang from her wrist.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    Peligroso has talent, the dude isn't just swinging for the fences. He clearly had somone train him, and you know what it's easy to see why he's dangerous. He strings like a champ, but well more than a few of those strings seem designed to set up a take down that never comes. He is not however, terribly quick. So Grace grabs ahold, and the moment that knee drives home the concrete beneath him fractures under the fresh weight. Then comes that nail, which pulls free. Instantly his black uniform is gone, replaced with tall white boots and teal spandex trousers. His back tattoo'ed with crosses, and his face covered under a blood soaked luchadore's mask bearing a telltale hole near the eye.
    Nail in hand, well theres a string stretching from the head of that nail and once you have it? That string stretches back to a spider the size of a fucking minivan, brilliantly colored in orange and yellow. From one outstretched leg dangles a puppet, like a little boy. A crude uniform stuffed with straw, dangling out there in the breeze. It's other front leg, well it just whacked Canary's thigh. It swings that leg down after Canary again, trying to pin her down.

    Sans nail, Cometa just bounces there in the air. "Muerte, Muerte, Muerte." Another whistling-whoosh of air, as an invisible force dives after Dinah's collarbone. Trying to drive her back to the ground and pin her in place for..well make your jokes. Nailing, probably.

    Zinda has, unforrtunately done this before. "Snag the tape, and move quick Little hawk. Sounds like the girls could use a hand outside."Zinda starts ripping open bags in sequence before pausing with a frown. <<I have positive ID on the Governor, or whats left of him. We're heading back outside.>> Zinda frowns, peering back towards the stairs. "Or a ritual, Not my wheelhouse Sweetpea. Ok saddle up, we need to source a ride back to the airport yesterday."

Grace Choi has posed:
    "The holy fuck?!" Grace's rage turns to momentary confusion, and bewilderment. "This. Is going to get worse. Before it gets better," she calls into the earbud. No longer upset, and -thinking- at least, she understands partially what's going on. She plants her feet. Wraps both arms around the string. Slowly. Replants her feet. And then, with the full force of her strength, gripping the string as if she were the anchor in a tug-of-war fight against Power Girl herself, Grace calls to Canary, "You're not fighting the boy, Dinah. You're fighting fucking Charlotte on steriod, and there ain't no goddamn amazing pigs."
    Then? Grace pulls. Hard. With every. Single bit. Of her strength. Time to topple Shelob's second cousin.

Black Canary has posed:
    The impact on her collarbone is hard and fast enough to knock Dinah ingloriously on her ass; she'll feel that tomorrow. She bucks as Cometa slams down on top of her as she brings up a forearm under his neck to hold him back, long enough to glance Grace's way. Her eyes widen as she sees the massive spider she's wrestling with, before she looks back to Cometa, getting a determined expression. "Sorry kid..." she grunts, twisting then bringing her free hand hand up to grab the needle shoved into his head, before trying to yank it out smoothly as she simultaneously pulls a leg back and kicks out to knock him back.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "Garage is on the east hand side. I assume," the girl responds slowly, staring at the camera. She pops the tpae free easily and then tucks it away into her bag before unshouldering her rilfe. She checks the gun over quickly, leaving bloody smudges where she touches the frame of the M4. "That's where everyone was running to, so..." she gives a faint shrug of her shoulders.
    "Into the breach," Elliot mutters. "Who gave that kid a grenade launcher anyway? Okay. I'm on my way down! Zee--- you're a better driver than I am. Maybe you should check out the garage while I see what I can do about the weirdos out front?"
    Never faltering even when she's a little green in the gills Elliot dashes back up the stairs, rifle in front of her like the miniature commando she is. The little Blackhawk that could.

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    hat needle come free, and well now both Dinah and Grace can see the spider. Fangs slavering as it leans in to go for the proned out Dinah, before Grace gives that silken cord a pull. Cometa is caught off guard, stumbling off kilter and releasing Dinah in the momentary confusion. Once it's clear that the jig is up, it lifts a leg to slice that strand of silk. It doesn't vanish though, holding the nail seems to be sufficient to see the bastard. The Spider gives an annoyed little chitter, before scrambling up the exterior wall and well it's not going to stay and fight. Screw that noise.

    "Go, see to the girls!"Zee races back up the stairs with a huff, before heading off towards the garage. <<Blackhawk Actual, all stations this net. Check in, any injuries? I'll have transport for us shortly.>>

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Fuck you, and if I ever see you again, I'm going to rip off every goddamn leg and choke you to death on them," Grace calls, after the freakish spider. She is, however, not letting go of the nail. She spits on the ground, afterwards. "-God- I hate fucking magic. Bullshit." She looks over at Dinah, striding over to her would-be partner, "You alright?" The nail? Is pocketed. A trophy? Or. Maybe Grace wants to have it investigated? Or maybe she just wants to track the spider down again, someday, and live up to her promise.
    "We're clear," Grace tells Zinda, and Elliot both. "All threats gone. For now."

Black Canary has posed:
    Dinah pants a bit, rubbing her collarbone with a wince, then flexes her legs and comes back to her feet in a kip up, rising to stand by Grace as she watches the spider retreat. "...I am all for this plan. Very behind it." She shivers. 'Creepy eight-legged freaks. You think it was magic and not an alien thing or something?" she asks, glancing over at the taller woman. She also keeps the nail, idly rolling it between her fingers as she looks it over. "If it's magic...wonder who summoned it. Some dumbass shaman turned militia leader?" She pauses, then says over the coms. <Clear here too. Freaky spider was controlling the two metas out here, it ran off when Grace figured out pulling out the nails.> She glances over at Grace and smiles. "Nice work on that, by the way."

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    Elliot, by this point, has already reached the ccourtyard. The girl sprints out toward the nearest cover and ends up with her back against a wall, looking around toward every available entrance. "All clear? Everyone's okay?" Some people might think she's a bit ludicrous, a barbie doll in a uniform, too small to be a serius soldier. Then again Elliot is covered in blood like she walked off the set of a horror movie. Not the sort ofthing that usually happens in combat. She takes a ew heavy, deep breaths through her nose, resting for a second with her weight on the building. "What happened out here?"

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    The spider waves back, chittering in it's own language. Just to make it clear how mutual the feeling is. Then well, it casts a wad of silk and...catches a breeze. Gliding away over the horizon. Fucking jerk spiders man, seriously.

    Zinda's not long in coming, swinging that beat up jeep around towards the entrance before reaching out to drag a dead body off the hood. "Girls, pile in. We are -leaving- before reinforcements show up, this weather is fucking with my hair and we obviously can't handle reinforcements with frizzy hair now can we?"Zinda snorts, pausing to dig through the center console. "Hey anyone want gum?"

Grace Choi has posed:
    "And here I was just getting started. Let's go." Grace has had enough. There's a pause, as she turns to look to the boy, the man in the luchadore costume, and her jaw sets again. But, she nods, "Let's get out of here. Guy with the money ain't here. He better still be alive. He owes us. Fuck. I need a drink." And by 'drink', Grace really means at least a case.

Black Canary has posed:
    Dinah hehs to Grace. "I could go for a cold one..." she agrees, idly tugging at her top a bit to pull it away from her skin, fluffing it for a bit of ventilation as she heads over to hop into the back seat, scooting over to make room for Grace. "So are we leaving leaving back to the airport, or leaving to someplace nearby to lie low until we can figure out where our principal is?" she wonders, rolling her arm a bit as she winces at her shoulder.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "I... don't know if I should get drunk tonight," Elliot notes reflectively, biting her bottom lip as she looks over toward Zinda. The girl takes a deep breath and walks over to the jeep they've beeen presented with to slide into the front passenger side seat. SHOTGUN! She keeps her rifle out, able to aim out of he vheicle past the window for the moment. "...You're right, though. This is a great night for alcohol. We can probably do better than beer, though. I'm pretty sure we're headed for the airport- looks liek our payday bit a few bullets before this started."

Lady Blackhawk has posed:
    "Oh honey, He's -super- dead. Looks like they forcefed him boiling water -after- they tortured him. We got paid upfront for the meeting, just not nearly as much as we would have liked. Enough to pay everyone, and cover expenses and a little extra. "She pauses, peering back towards the mansion. "This is the second contract in a row we've showed up to, and the client's been tortured to death on camera before we showed. Same guys I think. So somone's trying to keep us from getting hired."Zinda inhales softly "Question is, is that somone with a beef against -us- or are they just trying to keep our noses out of it? Anyway we're getting the fuck out of dodge, heading back to the island."
    "Well Grace, you wanna come with. The island is secret and some jazz, but there will be booze and a return flight like tomarrow night or the day after. Otherwise I can drop you back in Metro right off, but you're on your own for booze. Whats the call honey?"With everyone onboard, well Z gets going back towards the airport.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Let's hit it," Grace says, as she swings into the Jeep, frowning. She jams her hand into her cargo pants deep pockets, and pulls out the strange nail. She turns it over, and over, slowly, in her hand. "If I understand what happened right, those two we fought were dead. And this, and the spider, were animating the corpses. It was basically a fucking eight-legged angler fish. We can expect more of them, should we encounter the piece of shit again. I don't know how it's done. Alien. Magic. Whatever. But, seems magic to me. Lotta stories about stuff like this going on. Heard them before." She does not offer where. Or when. Just that she has. But, Amazons have a -lot- of stories, about magic, Gods, and the world. Grace just isn't sure if 'freaky puppet spider' is in them. But it -sounds- like it ought to be one of the trials of Hercules, or something that one of the Gods in a spite of rage would create. And if the Gods are real ... well ...
    She puts the nail back into her pocket. "Just make sure you drop me back in Metropolis afterwards. Only got a couple nights off at Chaney's."
    Her head turns to Elliot, "Nice job, by the way."
    A look to Dinah, and she grins back at the Canary. "Next time, warn a girl before you split her ear apart, yeah?" But, by Grace's expression, she's impressed with Dinah's prowess.
    "Zinda was right, about both of you. You both kick some ass."

Black Canary has posed:
    Dinah hehs. "I'm fine with getting the hell out of dodge then; his place is bad enough without freaky spiders controlling corpses." she admits. She looks back to Grace, grinning at her a bit. "Back at you both." She does glance at Elliot. "Um, maybe we can find a shower for you to change in before we fly back hon. That's gonna dry nasty." she notes, looking over the blood.

    She looks back to Grace. "Sorry about the sound; my Cry is pretty directional, but there's always a little leakage when I turn it up that high. That was a nice beatdown you were laying out. Who'd you train with? Any particular style?" she says curiously. Because it's a hobby to Dinah, and she didn't really get a good look at Grace's moves with creepy corpse boy on top of her.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
    "We don't... Really have time. To stop for a shower before we leave death island. Spiders animating corpses now included," Elliot responds to DInah slowly, blinking as she does. "That was interesting. I still have no idea as to what just happened. Let's go back. I'll make sure to take you home, Grace--- Zinda will probably be sleeping in that day."
    There's a shrug from ELliot at this and she continues to watch the road, her rifle pointed outward at the world. She leans forward slightly, her frown slowly deepening. "I can wipe up a bit and change while we're in the air.
    "And then someone can tell me what all of this magic stuff is about."