You again? (INVITE ONLY-Cypris)

Root. The woman had plagued Andree's mind for weeks. No matter how close she got, she never got a lead. She had first gotten on Andree's radar with the assassin she sent after Nathaniel. Afterwards, she had used the phone number she took from the assassin's wallet to track Root to an apartment in the middle of the city. But, alas, when she arrived, she found that the place was spotless. There was no trace that anyone was there. Graphite powder had been used to remove any finger prints, there were no hairs to be found, all that was there as evidence were the traces of rubber pads on the bottom of a laptop that had been on the table. But that offered nothing that she could use. Root had probably known this, leaving it there on purpose to tease her. Why else would she not clean it up, as she had with every bit of evidence that could have been useful.

Not long after that incident, she had taken two of her thugs from a meeting at the airport for interrogation at base. They had given her no information, fearing what would happen to them if they did. At first, that is. After being dangled over a cliff for a while, they gave in and spilled everything they knew. Unfortunately, it was nothing new. Just that it was a girl and that they never had direct communication with her.

Now Andree crouched, in her suit, on the rooftop of the tower that Root's first phone number had been traced to. She had the building, the apartment in particular, under watch since the time she had traced the number here and come up with nothing. No luck so far though, and that fact irritated Andree to no end. No way was she going to let herself be outsmarted. The police radio scanner in her mask told her that the police were now leaving The house where a murder had recently occurred. A famous actor had taken a clean shot in the forehead and now lay dead. The man's parents had ordered that the body be kept in the house for now until they could call a hearse. They obviously didn't trust the police with their son's body. This was good news for Andree, who could now examine the body herself.

Andree dropped off the building, spreading her cape and dropping off the building. It allowed her to glide across the skies and to the house on the outskirts of Chicago, with the assistance of her grapple of course. Eventually, she arrived and crept into the house through the window. Once inside, her eyes briefly scanned the bedroom that she had entered into. Her eyes spotted a slight slope in the floor. A safe room door would be heavy enough to create the slope in the floor, she'd check it later. Her first priority was the body, which could be hauled away at any moment. Once she crept down the stairs, she saw the body off to the left side of the bottom of the stairwell. Once down on the ground, kneeling by the body, Andree's mask ran some scans. The shot was from a pistol at close range, the bullet was .40 caliber. From a quick look around the dark, normally lit through her mask, room showed that the police had taken the bullet out of the wall already. No shell case was in sight either, the killer must have taken it. A small creaking sound came to Andree's attention and she stood up from her position kneeling on the floor. Her bo staff formed in her hand, being built out of small robots now that hid in her body and came out when she wanted them to, as she demanded an answer from whoever made the noise. "Who's there? Show yourself." Her voice was modified by her mask to sound slightly robotic and more intimidating. It echoed down the hall to whoever was there as Andree gave the mental command for the durability booster to activate, in case of a fight that maybe coming. She wasn't fond of getting shot if it was the killer.

"Deputy to Sharif, we have a body on West Shore, over. Young male in his late 20's, Caucasian, bullet wound to the left temple." Cypris turned her Ham Radio up a bit as she waited at the light in her pink Ferrari, she was in Chicago for the week filming for her new movie, The Avengers 6, but she always carried her radio with her just in case of times like this one. "555 West Shore Avenue, dispatch all emergency units-wait no, victims parent's are refusing police involvement with the movement of the body. Action, over?" The rest was just a jumbled mess of static as the demi-goddess passed over a bridge and by the time she got over it, the conversation had switched to something about a man skipping his ticket and a police chase ensuing.

Aggravated she pounded her steering wheel and sighed as Luka danced around over the passenger seat, "555 West Shore Avenue, take next left, Main Street North! 6.7 miles to destination, approximately 10 minutes." She tweeted sweetly, already knowing that her master was bound to want to investigate. "No Luka, last time I got involved with foreign affairs, I was kidnapped by some psychotic film maker trying to bring down Chicago and almost got blown up." She stated stubbornly, clearly trying to fight the urge to turn her car for Main Street. "Chicken: The common domestic fowl (Gallus domesticus) or its young2. Slang for a coward...mostly commonly used to describe one who-" "Knock it off you little brat!" Cypris interrupted, turning her car brashly for the left turn and cutting someone off in the process.

When she'd straightened her vehicle out more she turned and glared at Luka, "Manipulated by a machine, unbelievable." To this the little puff ball chirped and did a flip, copying several different classic noises and statements from famous machines and robots in history's movies. Prissy groaned and put the petal to the metal, hoping the roar of the engine would drown our her hearing.

Several minutes later she arrived at the home, no one was around which was surprising despite the request to leave the body alone for now, but what really startled her was she recognized the house. Her heart raced and she frantically looked over the address on the mail box from her car, even going as far as rolling down the tinted windows in case it was hampering her view, it was hopeless though. No matter how many ways she looked at the numbers it would always say 555 and it didn't seem to help how often she looked back at the little green sign at the end of the street, it was definitely West Shore Avenue. A knot formed in her throat as the death of her Hollywood friend came to realization, and the investigation became personal.

As the super model and world famous actress slipped into her garb, an anticlimactic black leather jacket and spandex with her usual pink mask, she parked several houses away from her target home to avoid suspicion; after all a Ferrari in that neighborhood wouldn't be unusual at all so she had no worries. Luka stayed in the car, she wouldn't really be needed.

The house was darker than she expected, and she had honestly thought that someone would have been there, perhaps his family? Prissy clenched her fists as the victim's face swept across her memories, she'd done many a movie and photo shoot with him, he was a swimsuit model, in the past and the two had even harbored a 4 year relationship that had ended on relatively good terms as they still talked frequently and crossed paths in the business. Her heart ached now and the silence of the dim mansion stirred thoughts that distracted her, causing her to make more noise than she'd ever make otherwise. The floor creaked beneath her as she leaned over a small decorative table in one of the hallways and stared at a picture, but her attention was taken to the bottom of the staircase a few feet ahead of her and around the corner when another woman's voice reached her ears. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

Prissy was more than a little embarrassed, she'd been so sloppy, that's why police were never allowed to work on a personal case...she shouldn't ever have let Luka convince her to come. Drawing an arrow she strung her bow and carefully stepped around the edge of the wall, immediately aiming at the girl leaning over what she recognized, appallingly, was her friend's body with a bullet wound in his head. She struggled to hold her aim steady and at first she didn't recognize the girl but it only took another moment before she realized with was Andree, she'd performed an extraction mission with Gracie Hill in order to rescue her and the city only 4 months prior. Small world, go figure. "Andree?" She asked, bewildered but still not lowering her arrow in case it was an imposter, who knew with all the Supers running about?

The bo staff appeared to dissolve as the nanobots went back inside Andree's body, ready to be called out again at a later time, after Andree heard her name called out and recognized the voice calling it as Prissy's. "Prissy?" She asked, just to be sure. A sly smile appeared on her face, concealed by her mask. The two of them had gotten along fairly well last time they had met. "I see you're not dressed like a stripper anymore, good choice." She teased, remembering the costume that she had worn last time. Her eyes scanned the room from behind the lens in the mask that acted like a two way mirror. If anyone looked at where here eyes would be, all they'd see would be a reflection of themself in the silver and blue tinted lens. Her eyes peered around the room, spotting photos on the shelf.

Andree stepped towards the shelving unit and picked up the picture off the shelf. A wife. He had a wife. Was she still alive? Was she with the police? Or was she dead somewhere else in the house? Was she the killer? Did she hire the killer? All these questions wandered through her mind as Prissy came closer to Andree. Something didn't seem right about the situation. Who killed him? Why? Jealousy? It wasn't rage, that would imply impulse and this was methodical, no trace, definitely not a spur of the moment decision. Her eyes wandered over to the next picture. A man, probably in his fifties, shaking hands with the man that now lay lifeless on the hardwood floor. Andree recognized the man. Rupert Zarchoni, untouchable mob boss. Was he doing deals with him? Were they friends? Business partners? Did he know that Zarchoni was a mob boss? So many questions, so little answers. She never once spoke as she examined the photographs.

The safe room may hold something. She thought to herself before walking upstairs. She was in a groove she got in while investigating, it was hard to snap her out of it. The one time that Gracie did it, she regretted it. Andree had gone through her entire thought process out loud, questions and all. She just rambled and rambled and rambled. Every last thought that came to mind during it came out of her mouth, every theory.

Once upstairs, she needed to check first if there really was a slope in the floor. Her hand reached into a vase and picked out one of the globe shaped glass bits at the bottom. Placing it on the hardwood floor, she watched it roll down the slope, stopping once it hit the bottom of the bookshelf. Andree's eyes scanned the titles of the books on the shelf, gloved fingers running along them, looking for the odd one out. Most of them were romance novels, marking it as the wife's side of the room. All of them were romance, in fact, except for one. A Sherlock Holmes collection novel was the odd one out. Andree pulled the book towards her and the bookshelf slid to one side.

The safe room was rather large, stocked with food, water, a bathroom and computers. Obviously they were prepared to spend days in here. And sitting in the corner, rubbing her arms, hyperventilating and crying, was a woman. But not his wife. Why was she in the house? Was the man that now lay dead having an affair? Why had she not come out when the police had been here? Did she not hear them? Could she not get out? Was she the killer? So many question, so little answers. Andree was going to get those answers in a minute, Prissy was probably able to do a better job comforting her than Andree would at the moment. Andree wanted answers, not to listen to crying.

Cypris stared at Andree for a moment, bow at the ready, waiting for a reply. She was always cautious under the mask of Aphrodite, some could say perhaps a little too cautious but then she'd been crime fighting for almost 6 years now and was still at it strong, that had to account for something. Only once her paranoia was satisfied did she lower her weapon and string it on her back. "I see you're not dressed like a stripper anymore, good choice." Oh yeah, she'd forgotten Andree's smart remarks...she had to remind herself again why they worked so well together. "And I see you're still wearing that creepy mask." She retorted, scrunching up her nose in distaste. At least she always dressed in style, more cloths or less.

That seemed to be that, however, because the moment the words came from her lips, her investigating friend got serious again. Prissy didn't know the girl very well, only a few things shared while they were trying to save Chicago together back in the day. It seemed they would never get to meet on normal terms, story of her life. The Demi-goddess bit her lip slightly at the corner and bent over the body "Sergei..." She whispered, but resisted the urge to touch him in fear of being blamed for the murder; never in her life has she wished she had gloves more than at that moment.

"His name is Sergei Rass." She said over her shoulder as Andree searched the premises. She wasn't very good at serious investigations such as these, she had really only gotten involved in case the gods had something to do with murder, like Ares had killed her father in cold blood. They were always poking their heads in places they didn't belong, and Ares had to be the nosiest of them all, he had many many henchman to do his dirty work in the world. They were the soldiers just as much as the murderers, and the God of War loved nothing more than to try and rage just that, conflict...wherever he could get it. But...was this really a matter of the gods? Or was Sergei murdered for some other reason that really had nothing to do with them? Prissy frowned and wiped a tear that had been sitting in the corner of her eye for the last few seconds, as though contemplating whether to fall or not. Whatever the reason was, someone out there took the life of her dear Russian friend and god or mortal she would find them and teach them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget.

Her fists clenched as she stared up at the ceiling silently cursing anyone up there who was listening, but just then she heard the sliding of wood against stone and turned to see Andree finding the door to a fortified bunker. Inside of it, though where she knelt her vision was hampered by a wall, she could hear a woman weeping. Last she checked Sergei's wife was deceased, so...what in the world? Confused and on the verge of assuming the worst, Prissy stood up and made her way for the safe room to get a better view. Sure enough, sitting in the corner rubbing her arms was a crying woman, looking scared out of her mind and struggling to get enough air through her wailing. Cypris hesitantly walked in past Andree and sat next to the girl, it took everything she had to put her arm around her, of course she suspected her immediately, why else would she be there? Sergei didn't have any family in the states. Still she couldn't stamp the guilty sign on her yet, they needed answers, if she wasn't the killer then maybe she saw who did it? "Shh...it's alright. We're here now, you're safe." She mustered to coo to her, rubbing the woman's arms gently.

Andree hung back as Prissy comforted the woman. Andree would just demand answers from her right now, not comfort her like Prissy was. Even Andree had to admit, she was being a little cold to Prissy. It was just that she got so caught up and focused on the task at hand sometimes that she gave anyone and everyone the cold shoulder. She did actually like Prissy a lot, it was just that her current treatment of her was common and she did it to everyone who tried to interrupt her while she was busy, even Gracie and Scar. A deep breath escaped her lips, her 'creepy mask' making it sound almost like Darth Vader was breathing. She needed to think, to formulate a plan. She needed those answers, she didn't want to sit here and wait for shit to happen.

Andree moved forward to the woman that Prissy was comforting and got close up in her face. Andree was going to try and frighten her. "Who are you?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here?! Did you kill him?!" She didn't expect a yes to the last one, of course. All she said was yelled loudly to frighten her.

The woman, in return quickly blurted out her answers. "I...I'm just a friend. He invited me over and then some men came in and he told me to hide in here. You have to believe me."

Andree continued to glare tat the woman through the two way mirror lens on her mask, her eyes hidden from the woman's sight. Though not completely convinced of her answer, Andree knew it was hard for any normal person to come up with an alibi while having to talk so quickly. So, for now, Andree would believe her. "I do, I just wanted you to speak quickly." She lied before hearing a noise by the door. Her head whipped back around to see two men standing at the door with pistols aimed at her and Prissy.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here." Said one of the men. "We know he told you, bitch!" He snapped at the frightened woman. Russians. Impossible not to notice their accents. Andree remained unimpressed by the two, who obviously were trying to come off as tough. "Now, get on the floor and put your hands behind your head." Andree did so, signalling to Prissy to follow her lead. Once on the floor, the two men came a bit closer. One of them, the one in front of Andree, had a limp. Once they were about five feet away, Andree pounced.

Her hand snatched the gun out of the right hand of the man she took. With the gun now in hand, she smashed it against his cheek before tossing it behind him. Dropping to the ground, she grabbed his knee and pushed it back while pulling his calf forward. The man's knee gave way quickly, as she predicted from his noticeable limp.

The man crumpled to the floor and she waited for Prissy to finish off the other man. Once the two were out cold, she asked Prissy a question. "Do you have a car here?" She had noticed it out the window earlier, while they were downstairs, but she asked anyway. "I saw it, let's take it." She'd reply, whether or not Prissy answered in the affirmative or negative. She allowed Prissy to take the girl out to the car, where she would start asking the real questions to understand what was going on here.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here?! Did you kill him?!"

Cypris rolled her eyes and stepped to the side as Inspector Andree questioned the girl, who of course stuttered to reply fast enough. For some reason Prissy partially believed that she was telling the truth, however, there was no avoid the fact that it was an easy lie to come up with for anyone! But then if she was the killer, why would she stay on the premises? Why not run while she could? Unless this was some mastermind who had an alternative plan in murdering Surgei Rass, and remaining seen was a hoax to stay incognito.

The demi-goddess crossed her arms, "Hey Darth Vader, why don't you lighten up a little and return to the Jedi side! Or do you want me to slap you again so you can wake up?" She snapped, even though she suspected this girl too and she was also the paranoid type when meeting suspicious people, the story was legit for the time being.

Suddenly a noise interrupted her thoughts, breaking her concentration and forcing her to turn to see what it was. First she saw the men, and then she saw the guns, it wasn't unusual for her to see things in that order, neither were really threatening to her, but Andree seemed to want to play victim, of course because she WAS effected by bullets. Prissy scoffed at the idea of bowing to their feet even to trick them, so when she didn't budge one of the men shouted angrily "GET ON YOUR KNEES LIKE YOUR FRIEND BITCH!" and when she didn't, he shot. The iron sunk into her skin ever so slightly, creating a small bruise and then clattered to the floor while the mark on her belly simultaneously healed itself. At that moment, Andree popped up and snagged the gun from the distracted man, and taking that as her cue Prissy quickly finished off his partner -who of course was in shock still.

"Sure you don't want to keep that gun?" She asked teasingly as she bent over and picked up the bullet that had been shot at her. It was only a 9mm -standard pistol and it didn't appear they were carrying anything heavier- they probably thought they were just a couple of girl's trying to play police. Guess they didn't read into them enough...men, always assuming woman were weak; to bad she was so attracted to them otherwise she really could have done without the other gender.

"Do you have a car here? I saw it, let's take it."

Prissy wondered why the girl had even asked but shook her head, smiling boyishly. "Yeah, yeah, no problem; but you're not driving it." She responded a bit defensively. That car was her baby, it did all sorts of crazy things and no one else could drive it anyways without her permission...seriously, the car's steering wheel knew her fingerprints and wouldn't drive unless her hands were on it.

"I don't want to, I'll bring mine later." Andree replied from beneath her mask, in response to driving. When she needed to, she'd bring in one of her own vehicles. They were a little more conspicuous than Prissy's but at least they weren't pink. They were a nice, beautiful black. Rugged, militaristic and ready to conquer what they needed to. Not a sleek Ferrari that could likely not handle going off road. Andree's hand wrapped around the girl's arm, dragging her from the saferoom to the car.

They had Italians accents, obviously she had something of their's. Zarchoni's mob, obviously. But what did she have? I'll find out in the car. I'll have to put her under so I can take off my mask and blend in a little better if we need to stop. I'll just say she's sleeping if we get pulled over or something. Once she had finished pulling the girl out to the car, she half shoved half guided her into the back seats. Then she slid herself into the passenger seat.

"Why were the Italians after you? Talk quickly." She ordered looking back at the woman. Her eyes could not be seen from the outside and it gave her a dark, emotionless look.

"I have something of their's. Sergei gave it to me and told me to hide in the safe room."

"Give it to me." She ordered, extending her hand to take it. Once she took the flashdrive, she inserted it into the USB slot on her gauntlet. The holographic screen popped up and started opening the files while Andree looked back and shot the woman in the neck with a specially designed high powered tranquilizer dart from her wrist.

With the files opened on the holographic screen, Andree told Cypris where they were going. "We're getting out of town. More specifically, New York. Take the bridge." The data on the screen that she had read said that there was going to be a meeting between the largest mob in Chicago, the Zarchoni's, and the largest mob in New York, The Russians. They were going to make a pact in order to create an impenetrable wall of crime over the two cities. Well, won't that be fun? She asked herself silently as her suit broke up into nanobots and phased into her body for storage and easy access.

Their attempts to leave the city did not go unnoticed though. As they reached the bridge, a police barricade blocked it off. They were searching cars for someone, most likely them. The city was filled with dirty cops and they were no doubt tipped off that we were going to try and leave the cit and told to stop us. Her mask popped back out on the outside of her face and she activated a beacon for one of her vehicles to arrive. Either one provided a tactical advantage in this situation, and she was going to take it.