Public Anomie [IC]

[trollthumper]

"Certainly," said Wilkins. "I have a case lined up for 9 AM. A young woman dealing with some family trouble by retreating into fantasy. I'm trying to help convince her that it does best to face things head on --"

Wilkins' pitch was interrupted by the chirp of his BlueTooth headset springing to life. "If you'll excuse me..." He briefly stepped out of the room, though Ironclad, tuned into the equipment around her, was able to pick up the transmission.

"What is it?"

"We found Mr. Richter's room open, sir."

"Oh, no. Another escape attempt?"

"I don't think so, sir. He's completely relaxed. Says the lock just came open, and he needed to get some fresh air."

"Well, I'm leading some guests to sit in on a session. I'll drop them in the office, and come and check on Jonathan."

He returned to the main room and gestured to Ironclad and Geckoman. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "Had to take a call. Would you mind coming this way?"

[Raveled]

Jessica broke her mental link and smiled warmly at Wilkins. "Of course," she said. "I'm eager to watch you work. When you say the girl retreats into fantasy, are these actual hallucinations?" While she pressed the doctor for more details, he contacted Geckoman's communicator. ~If you have any lockpicks,~ she transmitted, ~get them ready.~ Then she switched over to Silhoutte's 'channel.' ~Wilkins is coming over to your location. Observe him.~ Her right hand twitched slightly; part of her really wanted to call up her armor and throw down with Wilkins right now, but she fought that impulse down. Right now, going quietly was the best plan she had.

[Aoiroo]

"Understood."

She stalked into the shadows quietly watching passerbyers before she saw the man with the tag that read Dr. Wilkins. She had to stop herself from punching him in the face right then and there. They needed more then what they had before they resorted to anything drastic like that. It didn't stop her from imagining it though, in great detail. Didn't matter how fit he might of been, she was damn good in a fight and had loads more experience then he ever would if it came down to it. She kept that in mind as she walked behind, every step silent, every moving looking like a natural shadow instead of the true artificial nature of her being as she followed behind and whispered,

"How much have we gotten so far?"

[Quinn]

Crow repeatedly repressed the urge to pace in the van, clenching and unclenching his fists. He'd claimed a spot up near the driver's seat and had perched like his namesake on a stool, listening in mixed mute fascination and frustration through the commlink. He hadn't really said a word up to that point, preferring to let expertise take the place of amateurish guessing.

Still, nothing he could do at this moment in time, beyond sit and listen. The descriptions and voice locations'd likely be enough for a wind-walk in if needed, but without an actual map or visual cue any jump like that was a risk. Morgan mulled over some ideas in his head, and idly vocalized one over the 'link.

"Looking in wrong place. Maybe. Probably wouldn't put incriminating evidence or information on computer network. Papers, journals, diaries. Check the office if he leaves you there."

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman nodded imperceptibly to Ironclad, one hand brushing at a part of his belt under his jacket where he had his lock release gun concealed under the suit jacket.

Then he turned jovially to the Doctor. "Quite understandable, da. You would not have such a sccessful clinic if you neglected the calls!" He gestured extravagantly. "Lead on, sir!" He plastered a huge smile onto his face.

[trollthumper]

Jessica broke her mental link and smiled warmly at Wilkins. "Of course," she said. "I'm eager to watch you work. When you say the girl retreats into fantasy, are these actual hallucinations?"

"Not as of yet," Wilkins said as he led Ironclad and Geckoman down the hall. "More the building of vivid fantasy worlds, assumption of another persona. She seems to be using this as an avenue to escape what she thinks are pressures in the outside world. We seem to be making progress - encouraging her to channel this exercise into writing, or a format that doesn't encourage distance from the world - but I feel like we may need some time to solidify it."

The solid oak doors opened to Wilkins' office, which was decorated in warm and regal fashion. Comfortable yet stately couches lined the walls next to bookshelves full of books both psychiatric and more popular. A wide-arched window looked out over the grounds, capturing the morning sunlight perfectly. Wilkins' desk was lined with pictures, open notebooks, and the like. He turned to the two. "If you'll excuse me," he said, leaving the two in - and to - his office.

"All right, so if the footage Clad looped back to me shows anything, our orderly came out of that office," Cannonade said. "So we've gotta figure out whether or not he brought that costume with him when he went in."

Silhouette, meanwhile, caught Wilkins as he approached Richter's room. "Is he relaxed?" he asked the orderly.

"Perfectly, sir."

"Good." He went in, and Silhouette followed after. He sat opposite the young metalhead. "Mr. Richter. How is your day?"

"Fine so far. Could use some better music."

"Mister Richter, I'm afraid we've been over this. That sort of music can breed antisocial behavior and a tendency towards violence." He frowned, like he was wrinkling his brow. "But... I will see what I can do. Perhaps I can hand you your iPod back for a little bit. If it would help you adjust."

Richter looked at him with disbelief, then nodded. Wilkins walked out of the room and said to the orderly, "Mister Richter didn't open his door. Someone else, however, may have. Let everyone know that we may have intruders. I need to go talk to our guests."

[Ecalsneerg]

'Kristoff' merrily began to search the room as soon as their host had left them. "Quickly, da!" he pronounced. "Ve must find ze evidence!"

He sniffed along the desk. "No illegal substances," he confirmed, before his journey took him to a closet, which he lifted his gun to the lock to. With a pneumatic click and a wrench of his arm, the door was soon open, revealing a load of textbooks from tiny far-off countries. "Man, vere did zis guy get his degree?"

He shook his head at the shockingly obvious false back, pulling it out... and stumbling back a couple of paces in shock. Geckoman motioned to Ironclad to take a look, before lifting a finger to the comm device in his ear. "Wilkins is the man! All hands of deck! Battle stations!"

In one fluid gesture, he'd dropped his suit jacket to the ground and donned a pair of goggles, hefting up his belt until it folded outside in to reveal a series of small utility pouches. Even if he wasn't in full costume, there was no need to be lazy.

[Raveled]

Jessica went to the papers on Wilkins' desk, shuffling through them rapidly and absorbing the information. While Geckoman went to the files and then investigated the director's office, she slipped into his office chair and started poking around on his computer. She'd barely had time to try and guess his password, though, before the other hero had called the alarm out and started changing. She stood and touched her bracelet/watch, and in a moment her armor was in place. ~Silhouette,~ she transmitted, ~stay with Wilkins, don't make any overt moves. We'll come to you.~

The armored heroine walked over to where Geckoman stood and peered around his shoulder. "What did you find," she asked.

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman yanked the costume out of the closet and presented it to Ironclad. It was the same costume as that of their masked man from the night before. "We have to go. Now."

He lightly tossed the costume onto the desk and started fumbling for some Geckorangs from his belt. "Or we could throw some paint over his desk, but that's just petty spite."

He bounded to the door, before turning on the spot and suddenly pointing both fingers at Ironclad. "Actually, petty spite might help us out here. Can you crash the camera feeds or something?"

[Raveled]

Ironclad held the costume up and grimaced. This was the same outfit that the orderly had worn when he attacked the nightclub. This was the nail in the coffin -- Wilkins was the one behind these attacks. He needed to be brought down, and if he fought back... well, Ironclad could start gently. When Geckoman suggested she shut down the cameras, she shook her head. "Not enough," she said. "We need to get all the footage from today, and as much of Wilkins' session footage as exists." ~Crow. This is Ironclad. You need to find the security office and get all the recordings they have, from today and as far back as you can.~

[Quinn]

Crow didn't answer immediately; after his one interjection he'd lapsed into silence again, staring intently, almost eerily at the screens Ironclad had set up in the van. No movement escaped his eye, and Cannonade could see where his mouth was under the bandanna moving every so often, as if murmuring to himself. Patrol routes here, here, and here. Guards shifting to new posts here. Blind spots here and here. Easily dismantled guards here, here, here, and here. More easily, at any rate. Armed ones there and there. Alarm activation switches there. Fire alarm switches there. Emergency exits there and there. Primary objective there. Tertiary objectives there, there, there, there, and there...

Gotcha.

He hissed between his teeth, closing his eyes. Then they snapped open, and he gestured to Cannonade, also speaking with a new authority into the earpiece. Crow...had a Plan.

"No time. Need to move quickly. Ironclad, Geckoman, cover blown. Choke point and concealment spot out door, down left-hand corridor. Janitor's closet. Emergency exit at end of hallway just in case. Armed guards two corridors over, location will permit easy ambush of both them and general population. Blindside them if required. Silhouette, need you on the ground in the patient holding cells, security desk in main office has a release switch. I'll trip that if needed. Cannonade, need you out the door. Big distraction. Capital B-Big. Keep facility guards on back feet. Ironclad, contact local police, alert them to hostage situation and definite metahuman elements. Put it on as many channels as possible. Can't afford to give psychic time to plan or regroup."

He nodded to the huge man beside him; two runes on either shoulder smoking slightly. His image flickered and wavered, then he spun on his heel and simply vanished. One of the security cameras, the one specifically looking at the main security office, seemed to flicker with static for a moment; like there was some kind of interference coming from that room...then it cleared. Odd.

[Raveled]

Ironclad listened to Crow's detailed plan and then glanced over at Geckoman, sharing a shrug with him. "I think he's not used to making plans with people who are bulletproof," she said. The armored heroine stalked out the office, banging open the doors and making the secretary jump. She gave the woman a hard, blank-faced look and said, "Call the police." With that order given she followed Crow's directions to the latest group of guards. There were two of them, big men in white uniforms standing on either side of a wide door. If her helmet had been down she would've given them a bright smile; instead she raised her wrist blasters to each one and fired a quick glue capsule apiece.

[trollthumper]

The guards darted out of the way of the glue bolts. One was too slow, pinned to the floor as one of his legs was encased in Ironclad's special super-polymer. The other, however, was able to dodge the blast, and went right for his radio. "We've got intruders!" he called. "Visitors are armed! Repeat, visitors are armed!"

Meanwhile, Silhouette observed from the shadows as Wilkins went ramrod straight at the message. Gone was the pleasant affect; now he was a man hard as steel, tempered by fury. "My office," he told his guards. "You'll find one of the... 'doctors' there. Come. Let's make the rounds together."

And outside, Cannonade was already out of the van as soon as Crow had teleported into the hospital. He was racing up the drive when the steel bulkhead began descending over the front door. "Christ, what sort of renovations did this guy have done?" he muttered as he surged towards the door. As the bulkhead drew close to the ground, he dove into a slide, his foot outstretched. The bulkhead may have been steel, but the door was simple wood, and it shattered as Cannonade's sheer bulk met it head-on at 50 MPH. He leapt to his feet in the main lobby, scanning his surroundings --

-- to find himself surrounded by three security guards, none too happy to see him.

"Guessing you're not gonna just see wisdom and walk away, huh."

As one, they charged him.

"Didn't think so."

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman was hot on the heels of Ironclad, but his shoes were not. He shucked them off before sprinting down the hallway, already clinging to the wall with his feet as the guard took a swing at Ironclad. By the time he'd kicked off from the wall in mid-air Ironclad... still hadn't bothered to react to the ineffective blow. Huh, nice armour.

At which point Geckoman's sightly pungent green socks had collided with the guard's face at a high velocity. "For the Motherland!" he proclaimed in his atrocious Russian accent.

[Raveled]

Ironclad didn't even bother dodging the attack; she put her faith in the armor and it served her well. The guard's foot connected with her armor and she didn't move an inch. A moment later Geckoman arrived in a green blur and put the guard on the ground, hard. The armored heroine nodded crisply at the other hero and launched another glue grenade at the now-somnolent guard. "Silhoutte's keeping an eye on Wilkins, and Crow's getting the evidence for the police. We need to meet up with Cannonade before we confront him, though, so c'mon." She didn't wait for an answer, but simply routed the power to her thrusters and shot off down the hall, making a beeline for the front door.

[Aoiroo]

Sil looked at the doors of the locked rooms from her place. Her com in her ear as she heard the contradicting orders. She had to stop and breath and think, patients were important, but was she the best person, she was good at a couple of things, people were not one of them. Where was everyone else though, Ironclad, Cannonade and Geckoman were on Wilkins, he wasn't likely to get out, then there was Crow whom had just been watching and then asking her to stay here, then there was the order for her to get onto Wilkins, which she'd do, except what if the patients got out. They were more a danger to themselves then anything, and exposure to Wilkins had proven to make people suicidal. She really wished she was somewhere else, anywhere else, where she could be useful, where her skills could be used. What was she good at then, where could she be, how the heck could she manage, it wasn't like she could tele... She stopped on that thought and tapped her com,

"Crow, where are you? I don't want to sound uncoperative, but I've got one tool in my charmer kit, and it's a hammer. Not the best thing for patients. You think you could teleport down and give me the directions to the nearest security booth?"

[Quinn]

"Give me a sec, little busy here!"

Crow said that into the commlink as he vaulted over the filing cabinet, towards the one more inquisitive guard. The black-clad figure materializing from thin air took the man aback for a moment, enough for the teenage hero to launch a vicious one-two pair of punches. First one caught the guard in the gut, winding him, but it was the second to the jaw which sent him straight to the floor, eyes spinning.

Just like the training room.

Crow's next movement was quick and clean, cartwheeling across the room and hitting the unsuspecting second guard with a sucker punch right to the back of the skull...unfortunately, the man was a bit tougher than his counterpart, and the only result was bruised knuckles.

...Maybe a bit different.

[Aoiroo]

When the com went dead Sil had to hold in her sigh as she saw two guards head down the hallway. She lurked in the shadows as they moved with there guns out and shrugged,

Time for plan B,

It took about three seconds for her to get into position, she appeared right next to one of them, close enough to grab him by the shoulders and thrust him down into her uplifted knee. She let the guards form crumple as she dispeared on the spot at the shocked other guard and reappeared behind him holding her blade thing hand over his jugular. She let it linger there before she let out in an annoyed voice,

"You know, it's been a stressful few days now, and as much as I'd like to think of some nice creative ways to take it out on you, but it's not really you I'm after here. So, I'm reasonable enough to strike a deal, instead of me beating you to a bloody pulp and leaving you in a crumpled pile on the floor like your friend here, why don't you put away you gun and lead the nice people in those rooms safely out of the building."

She removed her hand from his neck and instead put a hand on his shoulder before disappearing, though her voice was still clear and sounded very close to his ear,

"Also, don't forget to smile, mental patients can use a little sunshine."

[trollthumper]

Cannonade toughed out the string of blows. It quickly struck him - along with the fists - that no ordinary security guards should've been able to fight like this. Either Wilkins was paying top dollar for guys who could easily clean up on the MMA circuit... or they'd had work done. "How'd he get inside your heads?" he asked, driving at one of the guards. He brought his head down, attempting to crash his helmet off of the man's forehead, but he was too quick, just ducking out of the way. "He tell you all to stay after for a special meeting, or -- ?"

That was when Cannonade noticed the tip of an Iron Cross tattoo poking out from the upraised collar of the guard. And where his hat had fallen off, close-cropped hair that was just starting to grow out. Well, that explains why there've been less Crusaders on the street. Guess that's one way to get around union rules...

---

Meanwhile, Wilkins raced down the halls of his hospital, trying to keep the sounds of chaos out of his head. It couldn't fall apart like this. It wouldn't fall apart like this. He brought himself up just short of his office. Charging forward would be a fool's errand; who knew what these attackers had. He just held his position, waiting for the assailants to give themselves away.

[Raveled]

Ironclad fired her thrusters and dashed through the hallways of the institute. She had already converted the building plans into a format readable by her suit and maneuvered by minute twitches of the long muscles in her thighs, rolling gracefully from side to side and pulling sharp turns that made the bladders in her flight suit inflate suddenly. Before long she was closing in on the guards that circled Cannonade warily. "Hello," she called out, swinging one metal-clad fist at a guard who looked ready to jump the helmeted hero. "You know, before you beat up the good guys, you should make sure there's only one around!"

[Aoiroo]

Sil gave herself away, but only after booking it when she heard the sound of footsteps. She was flat, and silent, but she ran, and ran through the halls turning a corner and finding him. Wilkin's, aka the guy who mind raped people for some deluted sense of purpose that caused people to go suicidal from the revalation that they no longer have free will. She was angry, but she was quiet as she ran, as she jumped, as she tackled the guy looking around for someone, expecting someone, but hopefully not seeing her, until she leapt from the shadows and plowed him down, trying to grab him, and keep him down. She had to grab him, not hit him, cause if she hit him, she wouldn't of stopped hitting him.

[Quinn]

A return shot from the other guard was caught in the teen hero's fist, and he moved underneath the arm with speed belying his frame. A fist wreathed in earth energy slammed into the man's side, a kidney punch that sent shockwaves through his system; the guard's eyes rolled back and he hit the floor in a heap.

Crow nodded with satisfaction, grabbing the two chairs the guards had and using them as an ersatz barricade in front of the door. His eyes narrowed in irritation - no time to use the filing cabinets; might as well hope for the best. He scrambled to the computers, scanning for any keys which looked familiar...ah, that looked important. And that did too. Okay! He managed to find what seemed like a network of computers - okay, this was good. Recordings on the therapy sessions...okay, that looked like a file he could open...wait, administrator access?

...Bugger. Administrator access was easy enough to understand - that'd be Wilkins' own machine. In Wilkins' office. Where he was going.

Well, where he was going. He smiled when he saw Silhouette intercept him on the cameras.

[trollthumper]

"Thanks for the help," Cannonade said as Ironclad zoomed in and took out another one of the guards. He could hear footsteps behind him as one of the more haphazard guards came swinging at him. He swung around just as the guy was about to bring the club down on his hand, grabbing him by the arm. He swung around, bringing him down to the ground with a heavy blow. Trafficking on the momentum, he lashed out at the last guard, sending him flying into the nearby staircase. With all the guards out, he turned to the flying genius. "Guess that just leaves the shrink. Let's go talk to him about his methods."

Upstairs, meanwhile, Wilkins was struggling under Silhouette's assault. "That..." The folding heroine felt a sudden burst of force as Wilkins pushed against her, throwing her off. "...is quite enough." He brought a fist like a sledgehammer down towards her, but she was able to dodge out of the way. "You come into my practice under false premises. You harass my guards and my students. You assault me. Can't you see what I'm trying to do here?"

[Ecalsneerg]

"Listen, Doctor!" shouted Geckoman at Wilkins as he blasted at Silhouette. "We can see what you're doing! And I have to say, not a fan of it, not at all. Seriously, man, when a group of armed superheroes busts into your practice to shut you down, can you in all honesty say you have no doubts? You're damaging people! Like, in their heads!"

He held out his hands, trying to placate the mad psychologist. "What would your daughter think of all this? These people you're trying to rewire, it's not their fault, do you think you'd have wanted you to do all this? Really? This can't bring her back!"

[Raveled]

Ironclad rocketed through the hallways, making last-minute turns and simply crashing through the last set of doors between her and the demented doctor. "Step back, Geckoman," she said, aiming her wrist blasters at Wilkins. "This guy's sick and demented, and he needs to be taken down." She fired a capsule, about the size of a D-cell battery; it flew through the air like a rifle, and exploded just centimeters from Wilkins' body. The chemical inside the capsule expanded and became solid, falling on the psychologist like a sticky web.