[Interceptors] Zombie Powder is a Helluva Drug [IC]

[Heritage]

Grim became uncharacteristically quiet as she searched the bodies of the young men. They weren't wacky videogame zombies anymore; now they were just kids who'd been cruelly robbed of their futures, and it made her sick to her stomach. The laughter of her teammates tore at her heartstrings; still crouched on the ground over the now-lifeless bodies, her voice rose up with a particularly vicious edge to it.

"Yeah guys, by all means keep yuckin' it up; it's hilarious that we just finished laying to rest a bunch of damned teenagers." She held up a pair of school IDs, one from Roosevelt and one from Joseph Clark, and there were angry tears in her eyes. "Your sister's in high school, isn't she, Jack?" Then she dropped the IDs and pointed at the tats on some of the bodies.

"Some of these kids have ink, very distinctive; they're also a bit too clean and are holding a lot of drugs. Dealers, maybe?"

[quotemyname]

"Teenagers?" Colt questioned, taking one of the ID's, "Damn it!" He swore. He tossed the ID on to the table, it hit the surface with a slap.

"How did things go so wrong with them?" Colt removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. Placing his hat back on his head, he sighed. "Well, I reckon we gotta put a stop ta this. Ain't gonna let it happen ta anyone else, that's fer damn sure." Colt stooped next to one of the bodies. "Let's start with them tattoos. They c'n tell'us somethin', I'm sure'a't."

[Gizmo]

The smirk slipped from Jack's lips an he expression became very cold. He was all but unreadable, but the energy blade in his hand flared argrily as his grip tightened, the pale green magics briefly taking on a curved, serrated appearance. When Grim admonished them, mentioning Ellie, his gaze snapped from the bodies to her, eye's blazing and mouth twisting as he pushed down an equally scathing retort. Instead, with visible effort, he unclenched his sword hand, letting the borrowed energy dissipate into the air and stormed out of the room. He stood just outside the building arms crossed and pointedly not responding to either of his teammates.

[Heritage]

Grim stared out the window at Jack's impassive back, then ground her eyes with the heel of her hand, extremely disappointed in herself.

That was wrong; I don't have a little sister. Just because I'm pissed is no excuse to play that card.

"Let's start with them tattoos. They c'n tell'us somethin', I'm sure'a't."

"Hmm? Yeah, sure, okay." She fetches out her cellphone and take starts taking pictures of the tattoos, as well as all the kid's IDs. "We can also see if any of these kids have rap sheets or listed as missing persons." She leans closer to peer at the pics on her phone. "Okay, these look like crap." She sighs and hands Colt the phone. "Honey, can you take the pictures? You're good with technology and stuff."

[quotemyname]

"Sure thing, Sweetheart," Colt said, noting her distress. He threw a troubled look in Jack's direction. The swordsman would be okay, he was tough, and Colt knew it. Still, he made a mental note to talk with him later, just in case. "Why don't'cha take'a seat're somethin'?" Colt suggested, "Take'a load off fer a few. An' lets have that there shotgun, I'll hang on'ta't an' make sure the thing's loaded." Colt shut the cell phone in Grim's hand and gave her a kiss. He drew his own phone out of his pocket. "I reckon I c'n take care'a this." Colt stooped to begin taking pictures of all the relevant information.

[Heritage]

Grim conjured up a two baggies and a bag of tweezers, which she used to remove some tissue samples from two of the bodies, one with a tat and without; it was the most disgusting thing she's ever done in her life, but she used her anger at their deaths to insulate her feeling a bit. Dismissing the tweezers, she tucked the baggies into a convinient fold in her costume, then proceded to replace the contents of the poor kids' pockets so the cops could find them in the right place. Then she dialed up her police contact on the phone.

"Yeah hi, is this Reena? Yeah, it's Grim; we got something very ansty for your department to have a look at. Teenaged zombies; looks like maybe a zombie powder ring or something. What? No, no one got bit, but we had to, uh...y'know, take 'em down. Yeah. Yeah, it's real nasty. Let me know if you need me to stop by and make a statement. Here, you got a pen, I'll give you the address..."

Once the call was over, she snapped the phone shut and laid a hand on Colt's arm. "You ready, hon? The boys in blue are on thier way." She indicated Jack with a nod. "Let's see if he's ready to roll."

[quotemyname]

Colt stood, finished with his evidence gathering. "I reckon I think I got what I need." He nodded at Grim's question. "I'll talk ta him," He held up a key ring for Grim, "Ya wanna start the car?"

---

Colt exited the abandoned building they had been holed up in. Jack was still standing on the porch getting air. Colt laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "Ain't nobody ever said our job's'n easy'un. An' I reckon it sure don't sit none too well wit' me sometimes," he jerked his head toward all the bodies inside the building. "But there ain't nothin' we c'n do'fer'em now. Nothin' 'cept get ta'th' bottom'a this." Colt fixed Jack with a wry comforting smile. "I got what'a need'ta give'us'a head start." He dangled a plastic evidence bag in the air. "Grim's called the cops fer some damage control. They're on their way, I say we git on ours."

[Gizmo]

Jack brushed Colt's hand off his shoulder and pointed a finger at the cowboy's chest. "Both of you know you don't use my family to take pot shots. Not even - " Turning away with a ill contained snarl, the swashbuckler waved the issue away irritably. "Let's just get going. I want this taken care of yesterday." Greatcoat flapping around his ankles, the fencer stalked back over the MAVERIC and got inside, pointedly ignoring Grim.

[quotemyname]

Colt nodded, and followed Jack to the MAVERIC. He swung himself up into the driver's seat, happy the Grim was there to start the car for him. "Fasten yer seatbelts, partners. I reckon I don't aim ta be pokin' 'round here no more. Next stop's Underground."

Once the team was ready, Colt shifted with the clutch and dropped the MAVERIC into first gear. The vehicle responded at once, and soon they were speeding down the various roads of Freedom back to the West End for some much needed answers.

[Dr Archeville]

Son the trio return to the not-quite-secret headquarters, assorted evidence in hand. The first one to enter the brownstone triggers the appearance of Vince, dressed -- for some reason -- like Mrs. Doubtfire, and holding a tray of fresh-from-the-oven cookies.

Archeville said something a few days ago about upgrading Vince's projections to have olfactory components, but such adjustments have not yet been made.

"Welcome home, my little lambs! How was the patrolling? Did you stop those dreadful gangbangers?"

[Heritage]

"Welcome home, my little lambs! How was the patrolling? Did you stop those dreadful gangbangers?"

Normally Grim greatly enjoyed VINCE and his irreverant sense of humor, but based on what they'd all just witnessed, it felt like salt in a wound. Still she managed a friendly though somewhat half-hearted wave as she took a seat in the Underground command center.

"Hi Vince. Yeah, we fought 'em, but it was all messed up. And-" She turned to the team's swordsman. "I owe Jack a huge apology for being a thoughtless, inconsiderate hag." She did her best to make eye contact with her teammate. "Dude, I am...so damn sorry. I was more mad at myself for being flippant about the zombies, and then I...I had no right."

Then she disconsolately dug out her sample bags and held them up. "Vince, do you have a way to do, like, particle analysis or something? We have tissue samples and stuff. Also crime scene photos."

[quotemyname]

"Stop?" Colt questioned VINCE's wording. "Well, I reckon that there's one word fer it. By my thinkin', massacred'd be more like it." Colt gave an exasperated sigh and sat down next to Grim, awaiting to see if VINCE could actually do anything with the samples they'd collected.

Not wanting to sit down on the job, could bounced up from his seat after he realized what he was doing. "Well, this ain't no time ta rest. Grim, how's about'I take'a look't those photos? Reckon we might'a missed something the first time round. Maybe I c'n spot it."

[Gizmo]

"Just let it drop, Lynn," Jack grated irritably. The swordsman could not fathom what he had ever done to give his teammates the impression that he enjoyed talking out his interpersonal conflicts. While he found that time and space to cool off healed most wounds, the affectionate couple seemed determined to turn every possible moment into some demented cross between an after-school special and relationship counseling. I swear, if they try to 'open the lines of communication' one more time, I'm going to have to stab something so hard I end up punching it. And I shall call it... the stabpunch.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he turned to Vince's projection. "Just give us whatever you can dig up, yeah?"

[Dr Archeville]

Vince shed his outfit and morphed into a CSI lab tech, "sure thing, gang, just bring the samples down to the command center and I'll show you where to place them."

Moments later, after the samples had been placed on or in an assortment of devices that had emerged from behind concealed panels, Vince appeared to be looking over a clipboard. "Looks like a fairly normal assortment of drugs so far, though there's a few the machines are still chewin' on. Tell me, what happened out there? What'd Colt mean by 'massacre'?"

[Heritage]

"Looks like a fairly normal assortment of drugs so far, though there's a few the machines are still chewin' on. Tell me, what happened out there? What'd Colt mean by 'massacre'?"

Grim spun from side to side on her stool, legs dangling listlessly. "He means we killed a lot of kids...well, rekilled them, technically." The she stopped herself, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, that's not true; we laid them to rest." Her eyes flicker from Colt to Jack and then back again. "We did the right thing."

Then her eyes filled wilth steely resolve as she traced a line on the cold Formica with a single claw.

"And we need to find the sick sunsabitches who did this, so they can't do it again."

[quotemyname]

Colt was sliding pictures around on the table top as Grim talked and VINCE analyzed. He tried laying them in a pattern, and then a different pattern. No new information became relevant.

"There ain't nothin' here by my reckonin'." He sighed, and pushed all the photos into a pile off to the side.

"'Right thing' 'er not, Grim, I say it's still horrible. Ain't no way I'm lookin' ta repeat that. I did what I had ta do." Colt was frowning, and gripping the edge of the table with both of his hands.

"An when we find'em what did this ta those kids, I'ma gon' make them pay up. Pay up in full what's owed. If'n it were up ta me, I'd make them tell these families what they dun ta these poor kids." On the hands that were gripping the table, Colt's knuckles where white. Any second now, VINCE might announce that there was no connection within the evidence. Colt could already guess it. They were at a dead end, and that frustrated him to no end! Colt briefly caught the eyes of his companions. Both of them could see that his eyes were on fire. He wanted whoever had done this, and he wanted them badly.

[Gizmo]

If Colt's eyes were burning, then Jack's were twin flecks of ice. "Yes, we're all sufficiently morally outraged," he said tersely. "If we're done patting ourselves of the back for having feelings, did you find anything or not, Vince?" The fencer had reached the end of his patience for talking, regardless of the subject. His anger was a cold, hard ball he'd unleash when they found those responsible for the teens' deaths. Anything else was wasting his time.

[Dr Archeville]

"A few things, yes," Vince answered while crouched behind a table. Seemed Jack's attitude was putting the AI ill at ease.

"Found two drugs of note, Max and Zombie Powder. Both are somewhat uncommon, but police chatter's been that they've been seen more and more of these past month or so. Max can be found almost anywhere, it's a potent stimulant, and rumored to be derived from the formula used in the Patriot Project. Zombie Powder's a narcotic, but one tightly controlled by only a few select gangs, ones with Voodoo connections. Word is, anyone who dies while on it rises as some type of zombie."

"Based on known gang colors in assorted police databases, the... uh... bodies in the photos aren't member of any gang with known or even suspected Voodoo ties. Maybe it was a turf war, they tried to push some of the Voodoo gangs out, but lost and got tunred into zombies instead?" Vince shrugged.

"Unfortunately, there's some more bad news. Residue from a few of the vials indicated that someone was mixing the Max and Zombie Powder. Which could mean there's gonna be super-strong, super-fast zombies on the streets if this isn't stopped."

[Gizmo]

"Fine," Jack bit off after what felt to him like an overly verbose explanation from Vince. The swordsman rose from his seat and began stalking toward the Underground's exit, greatcoat flapping around he ankles. "Just give me directions to the nearest turf of a gang that does have Voodoo connection," he demanded on his way out.

[quotemyname]

"Agreed." Colt said curtly, standing. "I reckon that's the lead we need. We know nothin' now, but if'n they don't know nothin', I'll be a monkey's uncle."

Colt collected some of his things off the table. Tightening the straps on his gun belt he followed Jack through the tunnel to the vehicle bay.

"VINCE, go'n upload them coordinates ta the SATNAV in the MAVERIC ASAP. If'n we roll in all flashy, I'm bettin' they won't mind us knockin' down their door."

[Dr Archeville]

"Coordinates for where?"

"Look, guys, I'm all for stopping crime on the streets," Vince quickly chimed in, "and this is some bad stuff. But there's several Voodoo gangs around that could've been behind this, and we don't know which one did it. So unless you plan on going out stabbing and shooting every Voodoo-affiliated gang member in the face for this -- and every root-woman and conjure-man just to be on the safe side -- there's more digging to do. Like finding who these people were, what gangs they were in, and what gangs they had a beef with."

[Gizmo]

"That'd be your job, wouldn't it?" Jack retorted without slowing down. "In the meantime, yeah, I'd say that's about my plan." The light fixture directly above him head crackled then went out with a violent puff as the energy manipulator forcibly ripped a bolt of electricity through it to his hand, where it arced between his golved fingers before leaping back outward to take the form a semi-solid rapier. "Maybe not the face, though. Make it harder for them to answer questions."

[quotemyname]

"Doggone it Jack," Colt raised a hand to steady the swordsman. "Hold yer horses a spell. I reckon this might actually go faster if'n we do's VINCE says."

Colt halted his progress and turned back towards the semi solid display of VINCE. "Let start wit what gang they're from. I recall them all havin' similar tattoos." Colt retrieved one of the pictures from the table and held it out for VINCE to see. "I reckon the also had...School ID's. That tell ya anythin', VINCE?

[Heritage]

"Let start wit what gang they're from. I recall them all havin' similar tattoos." Colt retrieved one of the pictures from the table and held it out for VINCE to see. "I reckon the also had...School ID's. That tell ya anythin', VINCE?

At this point Grim's anger at Jack finally managed to overcome her growing discomfort with his single-mindedness, and she leaped in front of him. "Jack, can you at least give Vince a minute to cross-reference the tattoos with police reports linked to those high schools? The sooner we go in the right location, as opposed to just driving around and beating the crap out of random voodoo gangbangers in possibly the opposite end of town, the faster we can punish the right people."

She took a deep breath, and then laid out her final point, face flushed and her whole body taut in anticipation of a possible verbal assault.

"You're a fencer, Jack, not some guy flailing around with a machette."

[Gizmo]

"Yeah?" Jack asked lightly, raising his arm so that the crackling electrical blade rested on his shoulder, where is shifted, shortening and thickening with a wicked curve as it arced angrily. "Funny story, the name's Jack of all Blades." He spun on his heel to face Grim. "There are enough specifically Voodoo-related gangs out there to make this an issue in the first place, and you think we need to worry about picking our targets? 'Cause sitting on our hands is somehow more useful than breaking up a gang or two anyway?" Jack's tone was frosty, but the corner of his mouth threatened to turn up in a sneer. He flicked a finger of his free hand at the Underground's various monitors. "Vince can search his databases in the space of a heartbeat. He's either got something or he doesn't. So?"