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Post by birdsofprey657 on Aug 20, 2011 10:28:36 GMT -5
Oswald tapped his foot, still no food. Skipper and Daryl weren't talking either. Penguin was accustomed to slow kitchens but something unexpected must have stopped the kitchen to work. He left his room and sat at the board room, feeding his birds. Sherry was still there. Eric and his best men were with him on the second floor. Was it the FBI? No, they wouldn't surprise him, well he hoped they wouldn't have. He didn't want to activate his defense mechanisms, but then the table phone rang. Oswald picked it up before Sherry could. "This is Cobblepot". A high pitched voice responded, "Penguin.. the police are here, I don't know how many but it looks alot... I'm being -........" The line went dead. Oswald's face was unhappy, you could tell because he slammed the phone as it broke into tiny pieces of electronics. Why would the police be here. He had some of them on his payroll. He couldn't escape and he didn't want the people to leave, if they left he wouldn't get money. He walked over, to his control board, pressing and turning a few buttons. The first level of defense was smoke. In a few minutes, the first floor was covered in a foggy white cloud. His security knew the protocal, some were getting weapons, others were going to Cobblepot's position. He took the microphone to speak to the people, "Ladies and Gentleman continue dancing, we are experimenting our knew fog disco." As he said that they stopped and continued dancing. The lights also dimmed.
"Sherry, strapped a bulletproof vest on and went to get a pistol. Cobblepot, layed out his umbrellas. Then turning to Sherry, "Lock the elevator, The best men are with me now, no one gets in or out" Sherry nodded and pressed the lock lever. Cobblepot tried calling his lawyer, in case some investigation was on him. But the cellphone was dead. They must have cut the wifi. He paced around the room, still hungry waiting for answers.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 20, 2011 19:49:58 GMT -5
While the gunfight continues, Phoebe remains in place, monitoring both situations as best she can and keeping herself safe until she gets orders to do otherwise. Fortunately, it ends within moments of her entering the building, and she stands when the other agents begin to. She tries not to look at the bodies of the dead and dying, reminding herself that this place is supposed to be full of bad guys. Not that she's about to agree with Agent Tiff that everyone here probably is - she'd be an idiot to not notice that he has a tendency to think worse of people than he really should - but she trusts that there's a lot of them.
She doesn't bother to report to Agent Tiff that Gordon is doing just fine because by the time that becomes clear to her, the agent is already seeing it for himself. Instead she simply waits for the other men that are continuing on to exit the kitchen in front of her before she cautiously follows behind them. This front area seems to be peaceful enough, though within moments of her entering it, she notices the smoke filling the room. Unsure if there's more to it than foggy whiteness, she nervously places a shield around Agent Stevens and herself to keep it away from them at least. Trying to shield everyone else as well would be a bit much in such a space, especially while trying to keep track of Agent Tiff and Gordon's thoughts too, so she simply listens for more orders.
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Post by james on Aug 22, 2011 19:51:40 GMT -5
Gordon heard Tiff's shout, but doesn't verbally acknowledge it. Instead he looked up, catching the agent's gaze to let him know he'd heard is moving towards the dance floor area. He's outside when Penguin's voice comes over the sound system and he can make the muffled announcement through the door. He looked up as the white smoke came wafting into whole floor. It wasn't just disco smoke, and he knew that. Penguin knew they were there, then. His face stiffened, he knew a distraction when he saw it. This was exactly that. He wanted to blind them, give himself an advantage. He had security and Gordon knew where that was going.
He glanced back looking for Tiff. A change of plans was in order. They needed to surprise Oswald, he was the most important criminal. He was the one they were after and if he had anymore up his sleeves to defend himself, then they needed to strike now.
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Post by jek on Aug 27, 2011 20:25:28 GMT -5
Jo was saddled up the bar nursing the same bottle of Sam Adams she'd bought almost three hours ago waiting for some sort of signal from the boss that it was time for a little action. Jo wasn't new to the world of undercover agents. She'd done plenty of stints in the underground while working the Narcotics Division. But, tonight felt different. A raid on Penguin's lounge was a big step, an aggressive step, and something the big bird wasn't going to take kindly. She'd flirted with the bouncer when she came in and managed to get friendly with some of the angry looking gentlemen in suit whom had scattered themselves about the place. These were the most likely of candidates to be working with Oswald and seemed like a safe bet for some innocent questioning. Faking drunk was just one mode of interrogation, albeit not something Jo was exceptionally proud about doing.
Penguin was upstairs, or so a tall, gangly looking man with thick black hair had suggested twenty minutes prior. Sliding the glass a few inches down the bar, Jo stood up and made her way across the lounge. She mingled and sauntered as if she was a bit tipsy and just making a pit stop in the ladies room. Her plan was to start to make her way to the back staircase but, that fell through when the sound of gun fire overtook the thumping dance beats. Most of the patrons didn't seem to notice but, Jo was accustomed to their sound and reacted immediately. Tucked beneath her white dress shirt was a bullet proof vest, which hopefully would act as a life saver if any unruly situations were to unfold.
The GCPD squad burst through the front entrance shouting and pointing at the clubbers to lay down or whatever it is they have them do these days. Jo took this opportunity to sneak into the back hall and make a b-line for the stairs. Hopefully all the commotion downstairs would make it easier to move about. But, Jo doubted that greatly.
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Post by birdsofprey657 on Sept 23, 2011 16:40:05 GMT -5
Sherry grabbed and loaded her gun, Oswald looked at his assembly of umbrellas. "You know Sherry, one of these days, I'll have to get rid of some of these. Probably the ones that take fuel. But I do love to watch things burn." Sherry nodded, not really paying attention but instead in her own world; the world that real blondes go to. A few of his men took out their guns, but kept them at a distance. Oswald jumped over the table and took one of the umbrellas looking at the scene below. People were either dancing, panicing, or leaving. The FBI was ruining his business, and this time he was going to fight it. Sure get bad press, but the thing about press is that you can change it when your Cobblepot.
He laughed, "Funny how the agents are swarming the area, and thinking this will be hard, they tend to overthink everything, maybe I should make it easy on them and blow them away.. NAh!!" He laughed again, noticing one of his security men being nervous. His smile faded and the grim appeared as he rushed over to the tall man. Holding the umbrella up to him, "Are you scared? A man with a gun is scared!" The man just shook his head no; but Oswald wasn't an idiot. "Go downstairs, and hold off the FBI, while we wait for the helicopter to come. NOW!!!!" He pulled the trigger shooting bullets into the wall for emphasis, if there was any fear in the man it was gone and he was rushing for his life, grabbing the AK-47. Within the next minute he heard machine gun fire with a few more noises, that sounded like breaking glass.
He sat down and looked at the cameras, a battle was about to occur.
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Post by jek on Sept 26, 2011 18:37:08 GMT -5
Jo couldn’t remember the last time she’d landed so hard on her back. Her gun clattered to her side, sparking and whizzing as skidded several paces away from her. She didn’t have time to think; all she could do was react as a pair of boots thundered toward her. A sleek silver knife hovered barely an inch from her face for what seemed like an eternity. Jo tilted her head back watching it pass over her pale skin and slam into the wall.
A gloved hand reached out toward her, taking a firm hold of her arm and twisting her to the side. The man’s sunglasses were glistening black but, didn’t mask his intent. Reaching for his gun at his side, Jo knew she wouldn’t get another opportunity to act. She leaned her left shoulder back, drawing the black suited man forward as she hooked her free arm on his other shoulder. Gaining some momentum she pulled him down into her knee quickly before using her heel to repel him. He stumbled, hand still fumbling for his gun, cursing under his breath.
Biting her lip, Jo sprinted toward her gun. She hoped to God she’d be able to reach it in time. Sliding across the floor her fingers wrapped around the cold metal. Jo twisted, aiming high, and let of three rounds. Each one made a soft pop sound as they found a home in the man’s chest. She didn’t often use her piece but, when she did, she rarely missed. Hours at the target range had made her a decent shot and damn near calm under pressure. Coming to her feet Jo added a few bullets to her cartridge and smoothed her blouse over her bulletproof vest.
She took a deep breath before continuing toward the staircase. Her heels lightly clipped against each step, her heart pounding in her chest. That was too close of a call. This is why backup was always a good idea. But, sometimes going solo had its benefits. It’s one hell of a lot easier to get into a club as a woman but, having two or three male detectives tag along undercover was tricky. At the top of the stairs was a door marked with a plaque which denoted it as the main office. Jo wasn’t sure what she expected to find on the other side. Her training just sort of kicked in and she shuffled quietly up to the door. She could hear voices on the other side. There was a loud bang from downstairs which meant things weren’t going to smoothly. She was going to need a drink after all this. Jo kicked down the door and found herself face to face with The Penguin. Make that two.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 2, 2011 14:16:29 GMT -5
Though the first floor is quickly filled with smoke, several of the agents are quick to open the doors to the exterior. There's really no reason to keep them closed given that the building is surrounded by the combined force of the GCPD and the FBI, who are quite capable of gathering up anyone who tries to leave so that they can be sorted through at their leisure. And the open doors allow the slight breeze outside to help clear out the smoke.
But what proves to be even more helpful is that it clears out enough smoke for Phoebe to see where it's coming from, and she sets to work pinching off the ducts near where the invading agents and police are with loud creaks of metal. The smoke screen is thus greatly diminished from what it could be in short order, which is actually helpful to both sides. Such a method greatly hampers the defenders too; a smoke screen is mostly of use to someone acting alone because it allows them to be unseen. With a group, it makes it difficult for anyone to identify which side anyone is on and thus would greatly increase the risk of friendly fire for everyone.
As that problem gets taken care of, orders are handed out for some of the units to begin clearing the patrons from the dance floor and restaurant - which should be a relatively easy task given that most of the people there are customers or low-level employees who are more likely to protest with words than with weapons. But Phoebe is a part of a different group; the one meant to continue further into the more 'exclusive' areas where the Penguin and any of his questionable associates are likely to be found.
But as those in her group pause to consider the best way to start, Phoebe suddenly hears the sound of a machine gun firing. Given her abilities, it had been blatantly obvious to her trainers that a machine gun is exactly the sort of thing that Phoebe would be best suited to facing - right after metahumans, aliens, and other advanced and deadly weaponry. So her reaction to the sound of one is practically instinctive by now: without waiting for orders or even Agent Stevens, she charges in the direction of it until she's among the agents now diving for cover from the man holding it. But she doesn't duck - instead she uses her telekinesis to grab the weapon out of the man's hands, much to his surprise, before twisting the barrel hard. With a metallic creak, the weapon is rendered unusable before it's dropped haphazardly to the ground.
Then Phoebe picks up the man she stole the gun from, prompting a sharp cry of alarm from him. She sets him down among an equally surprised group of police, who nevertheless severely outnumber him to the point that they have no trouble at all arresting him. It's then that Agent Stevens catches up to Phoebe, who had to take a moment to figure out where her charge had gone. "Good work," she says as she glances at the officers cuffing the man, but Phoebe is too busy trying not to pay attention to the men who got hurt before she managed to get there to really notice the praise.
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