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

[Gizmo]

Jack felt the sound of the gunshot in his bones before it registered in his ears, time seeming to slow to a crawl. As the MAVERIC screeched to a stop, his door was flung open even as he leapt over it, greatcoat flaring out behind him. As he sprinted across the street just behind Colt's expert shots, the swordsman reached out with his abilities. The lamppost above their assailant's van exploded in a flash of shattering glass as a bolt of lighting crackled to white hot clarity in his hand, an arcing blade of electricity fueled by rage focused to pin point clarity. The bracers on his target's wrists broke a split second before Jack finished crossing the street to deliver a blow that was a much a brutal haymaker as a sword thrust. Wisps of acrid smoke rising from his equipment, the man Colt had called Blaine crumpled in an ungainly heap.

"Not in my neighbourhood!" he roared at the unconscious man, his normally melodic tone raw and harsh. "Not my family! Not with that!" The swashbuckler took a second furious slash at the dropped gun, leaving molten metal in the wake of his energy sword. He stood there for a several moments, breathing heavily as his anger distorted features went lax.

Finally, he turned to look at the others. "You alright?" he asked Grim first, to confirm he fae nature had saved her. That done, he gave Colt a look that struggled to be apologetic amidst conflicting emotions. Some archaic part of him insisted that it had been the cowboy's place to extract retribution on the diminutive shapeshifter's behalf, but the fencer was haunted by memories of ambulance sirens and shouting paramedics. "Sorry. Next one's yours. Sorta... touched a nerve there." Rubbing his eyes through his bandanna mask, Jack shook his head to clear it. "Besides, we're in a rush. Still on the clock to figure this zombie thing out."

[quotemyname]

Colt took another sideways glance in Grim's direction. She had just taken a bullet to the neck from what was likely a .50 Sniper Rifle. A weapon that had been outlawed by the Geneva Convention as inhumane, and labeled as illegal for use on anything save for the most heavily armored artillery installations. And she'd come out with barely a scratch. She was the toughest girl he knew. She would be okay for a few more moments while they sorted this out. His look was briefly apologetic before it became set with a kind of determination even he wasn't aware he'd had.

Colt blew the smoke from the barrel of his gun, holstered it, and crossed the street with a purposeful gait. The asphalt and remnants of snowfall crunched under his boots as he walked, and his spurs jingled slightly with each determined step. He arrived next to Jack and fixed him with stern look. "Don't you ever 'pologize fer pullin'a stunt like that." Colt's face softened then, "I outta be thankin' ya." his head turned toward the unconscious man, "Lord knows I wanted'ta do much worse..." He stooped down to where the man had fallen to examine him. Pulling him up by the collar, he began to look over the man, "Now then, what'a we got here...?"

[Dr Archeville]

While securing Witchfinder (and his driver, who had been KO'd in the crash) for the police, the trio found an armory's worth of weapons in the van. Several different guns (and several different types of ammo, including iron, silver, and wood), numerous daggers (also in an assortment of materials), and even a variety of grenades (ranging from standard flash-bangs and incendiary to weirder things like ones that could disperse holy water into an area).

Equally interesting was the surveillance gear, most of it military grade. Folded on one crate was a map showing the same los Diablos Rojos and il Diavoli Neri spots Vince had brought up. About a third of them -- not ones they had been to -- had red X's over them.

[Heritage]

"You alright?"

The shapeshiofter nodded, rubbing her throat which was still a bit sore even after her hasty application of Xtreme Elfin Magic. As Grim walked slowly towards the van, she gave the unconcious Witchfinder a light kick in the butt as she passed him.

"Sorry. Next one's yours. Sorta... touched a nerve there." Rubbing his eyes through his bandanna mask, Jack shook his head to clear it. "Besides, we're in a rush. Still on the clock to figure this zombie thing out."

Grim paused as she was about to climb into the wrecked van, shaking her head; her voice sounded a little hoarse and raspy when she spoke, like she had bad chest cold.

"Don't ever apologize for lightsabering some douchebag into La-La-land, Jack; whatever gets the job done, right?" She gave Colt a relieved look. "We don't have time for vendettas."

Once inside the van, she eagerly seized the surveilance gear, being careful to alter her gloves to cover her fingertips, to avoid adding her prints to the evidence. "Ooh, lookie here; who was in the A/V club in high school?"

[Dr Archeville]

Grim finds hours of surveillance video of other Diablos Rojos and Diavoli Neri hot spots, as well as a few other places, including Dead Head at Lantern Hill, Kid Cthulhu on patrol... and of the Brownstone! Seems Witchfinder had been scoping out the Interceptors, or rather, scoping out both Grimalkin and Jack of all Blades!

The police soon arrived, and after comparing notes the team learned a horrible fact: the spots marked with red x's on Witchfinder's map, places the Interceptors knew from Vince were Diablos Rojos and Diavoli Neri drug labs or meeting places or safehouses or other affiliated spots, were places that had been firebombed over the past several weeks. Seems Witchfinder has been after these guys, too, but had been doing so longer, and with more gusto.

On the bright side, it did mean that both gangs had been more seriously wounded than previously thought, so should be easier for the team to clear out.

[quotemyname]

"Look," Colt's hot breath formed a puff of steam in the cold air. "Here," he pointed to the map, "'An here. These's well." He pointed to several spots on the map that had been indicated, but not yet X'ed. "These here must be th'gangs last holdouts. I say we hit'em hard'n fast. Finish this." He looked between Jack and Grim, "O'ny wit less fire'n killin' than them lot woulda," He indicated to Witchfinder and his partner.

"Whataya say?"

[Gizmo]

Jack's teeth ground audible against each other as he reviewed the surveillance videos of their home. His only consolation was that he'd evidently made a wise choice moving out of his family home. "Think if I hit him some more he'll get amnesia and forget where we live?" he drawled tightly to Grim, barely contained stress giving his voice a thready quality. "Well, deal with that later. Let's end this," he agreed, nodding to Colt.

[Heritage]

"Think if I hit him some more he'll get amnesia and forget where we live?"

Grim laughed hoarsely and with little humor. "It's certainly worth a shot."

Nodding in mute agreement with her teammates' desire for action, Grim turned and strode back towards towards the MAVERIC, still rubbing her neck; there was a horrible itchy feeling there, like long spider legs tickling the back of her throat, and mixed with her fury at the night's events, it made her want to spit acidic bile.

We end this, but we have to play it cool; if we let our feelings rule us, we could spin out of control. And we can never do that.

She slammed the passenger door shut, which caused more safetly glass to tinkle to the pavement; with a wave of her hand, a thick clear film covered the gap to keep out at least some of the winter's chill. More glass, some of it still damp with her blood, crunched beneath her on the seat as she strapped herself in.

"Let's go."

[quotemyname]

"Officer," by way of farewell, Colt nodded and tipped his hat to the nearest police officer. He then scooped up the map of remaining locations and quickly strode to the MAVERIC.

"Reckon y'all don' have't tell me twice." Once the three Interceptors were loaded Colt slammed the vehicle into gear and took off towards the nearest location, tires squealing.

[Dr Archeville]

The first two spots the team hit went a lot smoother. At the first, another run-down apartment, they found a handful of gangbangers trying to clear out the drugs, cash, guns, and other loot from the not-so-safe safehouse. At the second, a pizza delivery hut that doubled as a drug distributor, the crooks were just leaving with the last of their assorted ill-gotten gains when the MAVERIC rolled up.

This left three more spots -- all labs, two for Diablos Rojos and one for Diavoli Neri -- but they were all cleared out by the time the team got to them. Well, mostly cleared; there was enough trace evidence to confirm that there had been major drug operations here, both the routine kind (i.e., making known drugs) and more experimental work. Disturbingly, the basements of all three labs had the heavy smell of rot and decay, and dried blood and other biological stains. Zombies -- lots of zombies -- had been holed up there, but now were all gone.

Both gangs were still out there, though both had taken heavy hits. And a mad vigilante with a "burn first, ask questions never" policy had been brought down, so that was another definite plus. Over the next several months, the team would fight more drug- and gang-related crimes, all with an undercurrent of the undead; they would learn both gangs had powerful necromancers in their organizations. But they would fight, and fight, and fight, never wavering in their stand against the forces, both mundane and supernatural, behind this tide of darkness and corruption.