Knuckling down (IC)

[Cube]

Shrike placed an arm around Robin, silently thankful for the save.

"I don't believe Robin said anything about Mr. Feathers having any problems. Didn't you Robin?"

He smirked under his mask. "But since you brought it up, I suppose it would make interesting dinner chatter."

This was so much easier with two people...

"What sort of trouble did he have? Judging from your friends here, I'd hazard a guess that you really want to keep out of it. Assuming, of course, you're at risk of being involved."

[Supercape]

GM

Mr. Brass frowned deeply at Shrike's words, and more deeply still at the smirk.

"You always were a wise-ass, Shrike. And your lady friend wasn't fire behind, although she looks a lot prettier than you..."

He sighed, a slow hissing noise between clenched teeth.

"I just run the club, you know? And this ain't the most upmarket place in freedom city. Yet I built its best jazz club. I got to do what I got to do to keep this joint running. And that means not poking my nose in things that don't need noses poked into..."

"But a little bird told me, and this is just a rumour, of course, that Feathers was into drugs. Bad, bad, drugs. No money and a habit. Then, a couple of weeks ago, the man played his most golden set yet. Goes around saying he had found some great new high, something that made him play like the devil himself..."

[Cube]

"I know, I know, I'm not accusing you. But that is interesting."

Shrike stroked his chin. "A drug that enhances musical ability... That is unusual..."

Clearly it had to be some sort of Metadrug. No ordinary chemical substance could do something like that.

"...Well then, I'd hate to drag your fine establishment into this mess. But you've helped me a great deal."

A red haired, left handed shooter with some connection to a rather unusual drug. This was getting interesting...

Perhaps a more detailed database check was in order...

[Supercape]

GM

"I can't possibly let you have the body!" said Robin, stamping her foot at Shrike's request.

Back at the Shrike Cave...

The body lay open to Shrikes detailed examination. Of course, Robin had caved in, and had bent the rules to breaking point - and beyond. Freedom City was pretty forgiving and accepting of Superhero help, but snitching of bodies for private examination was pushing it.

But Robin knew Shrike would do a faster and, in all likelihood, better job, than the hard pressed police forensic service.

"Just do it quick, and get it back to me!" she had hissed, as Shrike carted of the corpse.

The musician was in poor health, a little overweight, smoker, drinker, borderline diabetes, and the signs of high blood pressure. But what was really interesting was the blood samples. There was some chemical, related to LSD, that coursed through his veins in minute quantities. It seemed to act on several neuroreceptors, highly stimulant in nature. It was like Ritalin, LSD, and Escstasy all rolled into one, then spiced up with something new altogether.

It wouldn't be easy to synthesise, but on the other hand, it didn't look terribly complex either. It couldn't be made in the back yard - it would need a proper lab, and a clever chemist, to make it. But it wouldn't need a factory either.

[Cube]

Shrike worked as quickly as he could, before depositing the body back in police care with a nicely written thank you note, a box of chocolates, and a fully written analysis.

Meeting up with Robin afterwards, he went over his notes. "It's surprisingly simple, but it's definitely not something any addict could toss together. If I had to guess, he went to a designer chemist..."

"...I also really really hope you didn't get in trouble for this."

He barely knew the woman... except he did. Except he didn't. Except... gah. It made his processors hurt to think about it. But if she lost her job because of him, he'd be crushed...

[Supercape]

GM

"Good work, Bird Brain" nodded Robin, acknowledging Shrikes competence. Once again, she had suggested meeting on the top of a roof. This time, it was an old steel mill, not used for decades. Despite her moaning of the effort it took to get there, she seemed to think it was the natural abode to meet a bird. She was probably right.

"Well, we boys - and gals - in blue, we try to keep our eyes and ears open you know, but that kind of expertise...I don't think anybody has heard anything about that. Whoever is running this operation, they got more brains than our regular pushers and dealers, that's for sure. Must be tight..."

She pondered the problem for a moment, puffing away at a smoke.

"Still, I guess they would need the materials, right? both the chemicals, and a place to mix em up? correct me if I'm wrong, been a long time since high school chemistry and I was probably to busy eyeing up the pretty girls to pay much attention...well, in any case, I guess Franklin's Smoke might be a start. It's a small chemical factory, just north of the Fens. Run down, bit shabby, but does a business in cleaning agents. Well, we always keep our eyes on it - raid the back doors when we get an excuse, checking there is no explosives or crack cocaine being cooked up behind the curtain. Guess we could check out there, although I doubt we will get a warrant...its pure guesswork. Although you work the streets of the Fen's long enough, you get a good idea of whats going down, or at least who to ask..."

[Cube]

"One of the benefits of being a superhero is that you can check things like this out without a warrant." Shrike nodded. "But that's a good place to start."

He paused to consider. "Perhaps a stealthy approach would be best..."

If this place was active, some recon would keep them from getting suspicious. Then he could load his onboard camera with photographic evidence. Assuming it's working... Stupid cheap parts...

"But... if you have a better suggestion of who to ask, I'd love to hear it." said Shrike.

[Supercape]

GM

"Beat's me" replied Robin, shrugging her shoulders. "I was kinda hoping you were going to do your stuff. Look, I'll float the warrant past the brass, see if I can get it done officially. In the mean time, you do your business like always. I known you long enough to trust you, and hell, long enough to know you get the job done. So just do what you gotta do, and know I got your back. You sure have mine..."

She turned and walked out, pausing at the door.

"Good luck, Bird-brain, and do drop off that body some time, eh?" she said with a smile before leaving. Despite her sexuality, Robin seemed to love being slightly flirtatious with Shrike, in a kind of playful way.

Later, at Franklin's Smoke...

5 am.

The factory was on an industrial state, just north of the Fens, or just within it, depending on which civil servant you might ask. It was well into the early hours, the sky was dark with only faint moonlight. A good night for the cover of darkness. The estate was not well illuminated by steet lights, either.

The factory itself was, predictably, belching out a lurid green smoke from its main chimney. Several other pipes and vents dispensed with other types of gas and there was a smell about the place. The lingering fumes of sulphur, perhaps.

The occassional security guard patrolled the building, but nothing to concern Shrike. There were camera's and locks littered around the place, but the security did not seem exceptional.

[Cube]

One of the perks of being an invisible robot is that... well, no one expects an invisible robot. Shrike had free reign as long as he didn't bump into anything.

Of course, he picked a horrible day to leave his Covert Entry Autosoft on his main drive at home. But he could make due.

Taking advantage of his Nano-Cloak, Shrike shadowed a security guard through the building, looking for any opportunity to find what he was looking for.

"There's got to be evidence in here somewhere. If I can just find it..."

[Supercape]

GM

The factory was not the most organised in Freedom City, but fully operational. A lonely cleaner was doing the rounds, but not well, and who could blame him? the place was smelly and dirty from top to bottom.

Belching barrels of chemicals were everywhere, on the ground, on the walls, and hanging from a mesh of steel girders running across the ceiling of the large factory. There were laboratories too, presumably to do the more fine tuning aspects of chemical engineering.

In this mess of machinery, Shrike could find no sign of misdeed, although what he was looking for was not clear either.

The only sign of life other than the cleaner was the foreman's office, a dim light still on, and the middle aged night shift man fast asleep, head slumped against the deck, and thick glasses laying crumpled beside him.

[Cube]

Of course I don't know what I'm doing. Man, doesn't anyone do anything suspicious in public anymore?!

The office was a lead, though.

Shrike assumed a rather exaggerated STEALTH POSEâ„¢ which was completely redundant, as no one could see or hear him anyway. But it made him feel competent, so that was something.

...Seriously, this whole "pretending to be an experienced superhero" thing was nervewracking. Sometimes he wished he got a proper neural upload instead of this weird... psuedo...technobabbly AI Thingy he got. How does that even work, anyway?

That office might have something though, maybe if he could just slip in and find some keys or... files, or something.

[Supercape]

GM

As Shrike waited, The Foreman in the office yawned, snorted, and woke up with a start, scrabbling around the desk reflexively and knocking over some cold coffee and several sheets of paper.

"What..Who..Where?" he mumbled, before orientating himself.

"Dammit...I need some cold air..." he complained, shrugging on his overcoat. He nodded to the cleaner and stepped outside the main building, lighting up as he did so.

"Damn things will kill me" he said to his cigarette, as he coughed "that's if all the poisons we make don't first of course. What a life. Still, it pays the rent..."

He stamped his feet and took another puff on his cigarette.

"I swear there is something new in the air. Making us all freak out a little..." he complained to nobody in particular, although well within Shrikes earshot.

[Cube]

Taking advantage of the smoke break, Shrike went over the facts as quickly as he could.

'Alright, something new here... Something putting people on edge. Deep breaths, Shrike...'

A Pause.

'...You don't have lungs, Shrike.'

Still, the facts where there. Wade and the previous victim had both died within a month, so that means that if the drug was made here, then it would have to be one of the newer things. But where?

...Going through the files wasn't an option. He'd get caught.

But... he was the Steel Shrike, dang it! If he was going to get his cover blown, he was going to do it his way!

Shrike carefully waited by the door of the office, waiting for the Foreman to return.

[Supercape]

GM

The foreman stamped back to his office, in a bad mood, irritable, grumpy and tired all at once.

"What a job. Up all night. Sleep all day. Huh...wish is it was up all night partying...no no, they forgot to mention about what I would be doing all night huh..."

He helped himself to another cup of bad, but strong coffee, sat down, and put his feet on the desk.

"Goddamn it, this is boring..." he said, to nobody (except Shrike).

"...."

He looked around, out of caution rather than any chance of spotting the invisible hero.

"...I guess I could try it..."

He drummed his fingers on the desk.

"...the word is...it's good. Smooth. But....It's a drug...that's bad..."

"But damn it's boring..."

He looked indecisive. He stood up, and went to the window of his office, restless, and looking down at a particular vat of chemicals.

[Cube]

//INTERROGATION PROTOCOL ONLINE//

The door to the office silently swung shut, and the blinds rather unexpectedly closed in the foreman's face as a low voice seemed to growl from nowhere.

"Winners don't do drugs..."

Shrike glared a hole through the Foreman as he seemed to melt into existence. "But considering the situation you're in, I'd say you've already lost. Have a seat."

Shrike helped himself to a cup of coffee he had no intention of drinking. "Thank you so much for telling me you actually do make drugs here, by the way. I'm sure manufacturing drugs is such a fascinating business. I have no idea why you'd be bored."

Shrike casually leaned against the door, his cape seeming to cling to the exit as if to reinforce the futility of trying to escape. "The danger, the excitement, the idea of a superhero sneaking into your office and trapping you inside while you discuss the exact nature of your illicit business over coffee. It must be such a good life."

Shrike went to take a sip of the coffee, before seeming to think better of it, he promptly dumped the cups contents into the pot of an (obviously plastic) plant.

"Since the only other way out of this room is a window overlooking several belching vats of noxious chemicals, why don't we have a little chat? It'll be fun."

[Supercape]

GM

"Holy Japoley!" yelled the Foreman as Shrike arrived.

"It's you! the Shrike! I...I...read about you, patrolling round the Fens...thought you had retired...damn they said you were stealthy as a fox, but that was..."

"Holy Japoley!" he repeated, in amazement.

The reality of his situation then struck him.

"Now...now...hold on, there mister....I don't want to cause no problems, no no...let's just take a moment here...I...I...can help you with whatever you need...now...I never did none of them drugs...no sir...I just work here...got a wife....got a kid...oh please mister...look...I'll help you with whatever...just spare me!"

He was gabbling, and fell to his knees, shuffling towards Shrike with tears in his eyes until he reached the hero, at which point he reached out to clutch the end of Shrike's cape...

[Cube]

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to ask a few questions."

Shrike's cape melted out of the Foreman's grip. "There is a dead man currently sitting in the city morgue. Got involved with some bad drugs. Something that could make him play jazz like a demon. You wouldn't know about that, would you?"

One of these barrels had to have what he was looking for. It was just a matter of finding out which one.

One sample would be all the evidence Robin would need...

...At least, he really hoped so.

[Supercape]

G<

"There is a dead man currently sitting in the city morgue. Got involved with some bad drugs. Something that could make him play jazz like a demon. You wouldn't know about that, would you?"

The Foreman raised his hands, eager to placate Shrike.

"Now hold on, I don't know anything about no corpse!" the man gibbered "I just work here!" he added.

"Look..." he continued in a softer voice, leaning in towards Shrike. "I know that there is some funny stuff being cooked up here. Nothing technically illegal, but complex organic molecules. Now, I'm no chemist, but the whispers is, that it's the building blocks for some new drug that's hit the Fens. Kinda like Zoom, but for the brain, you know? or at least, certain parts of the brain...sends you on a trip, like the stuff from the 60s, opens your mind they say, takes you places. Expensive stuff, but some of the down and out artists...well, they says it makes you ten times better at anything like that - music, art, writing. Only thing is, its addictive and burns the brain out. "

He gulped and shook his head.

"So they get their fame and fortune...for fifteen minutes, and then they get fried!"

"I don't know anything more than that, Mister Shrike, sir. But I can show you where the chemicals get shipped too. Look..."

He scrabbled around for some documents in the office.

"23 Butler Street. Damn cesspit of the Fens" remarked the Foreman.

[Cube]

"Thank you." said Shrike, as he committed the address to memory. "You've been a big help."

He smiled under his mask as he melted back into the shadows. "And if anyone asks, I was never here..."

Later

"Zoom for the brain. Sounds exactly like what we've heard described." Shrike overlooked 23 Butler Street as he spoke to Robin over his phone. "Addictive, burns out the brain. Deadly stuff."

He absent mindedly lifted his foot to avoid a stray roach that came to pester him at his perch. "...It definitely looks like someone would sell drugs here."

[Supercape]

GM

Butler street was poorly named. It was a run down, dirty, and crime ridden street, even for the Fens. Several buildings were uninhabitable, and several more only inhabited by the down and outs and drug addicts who squatted there.

And several more folk of that station sat, or lay, in the streets, drinking, talking, and sleeping (or worse).

23 Butler Street was boarded up, and, whilst ramshackle in many ways, had a certain solidity to it, with Iron bars on the windows and a sturdy door.

What made it stand out even more were two large muscular men, in jeans and leather jackets, standing outside the door. Lookouts. Whilst they looked pretty relaxed, they seemed to be a bit more, well, professional, than the average mook. And they were packing too: machine pistols tucked into their jeans.