Assassins and bodyguards

Red 53 was resting, meditating, power-napping, when the phone rang.
His business line was specifically there for the sort of call coming
through; caller id blocked, shifted through tower after tower to make
tracing the call extremely difficult. That was fine though. Red 53
wasn't a genius in the super sense, but he was still above the rest of
the the normals and their simple tricks. He had rigged his phone
system, with a bit of effort on his line and at the phone company, to
easily show that the call was from one of Freddy Two-Finger's
warehouses.
Picking up the phone, he heard a raspy breath breathing loudly into
the phone like something out of a bad horror movie. Showing the lack
of effect the intimidation was having, Red 53 waited quietly. Finally,
the raspy voice spoke, "Your services have been requested. Pick up the
details taped to the bottom of the bench on the corner of Sunset Ave
and Main Street in one hour." The phone began beeping at the sound of
the caller disconnecting suddenly. Red 53 thought about it for a
moment. He needed something to bounce back from his last unsuccessful
venture and it wouldn't hurt to look.
Red 53 had disdainfully shed his leather armor and mask, hidden all
but his two knives in various places in his temporary apartment,
stashed the knives in inconspicuous places, and left after half an
hour. Arriving just in time, he saw a large bald man in a heavy trench
coat stand and walk away, his eyes shifting every which way. It was a
dead give away. Shaking his head, Katsumi approached and sat in the
same place as the other man had just left. His watch fell off his
wrist and bent to grab it. He quickly felt the envelope under the
bench and grabbed it when he sat up. Sliding it in his shirt, he
walked off, discreetly glancing out his peripheral vision to make sure
he wasn't being shadowed. Satisfied, he began the long and indirect
path to his safe house.

The phone rang shrilly. Roy was busy here, what in the world did they
think they were doing calling him while he was working. If they
weren't dying when he picked up that phone, they would be soon after.
Setting the pliers down, he heard the clunk of the tooth hit the metal
pan. He walked away from the hysterical goon that Freddy had sent his
way, leaving the would-be assassin tied to the chair bleeding out his
mouth. Picking up the phone, Roy said in a stern angry voice, "You or
Freddy had better be dying or you very shortly will be."
"Boss," a deep, simple voice said on the other side of the line, "I
thinks you needs to hear this. It's real bad." The voice hesitated
before he got to the bad news, "Freddy just sens out a request to
another killer, buts this time he sent a pretty big offer for dough."
Roy snapped his fingers with his ear still to the phone. Cupping his
hand over the mouth piece he whispered for the thug that approached to
take care of the mess, and the thug went and dragged Freddy's goon out
of the room. The sound of screams was followed by a heavy thud, a
sharp crack, and a wet squelch. The thug came back into the room with
a wallet that wasn't his in hand, counting the money contained within.
Roy reached over, snatched the money, counted it quickly and handed it
back. Whispering again he told the thug, "Sent his widow some
flowers."
"Boss," the deep, simple voice said, reminding Roy that he still had
the phone to his ear, "what'd ya wants me ta do?"
Roy hung up the phone without answering. He thought for a moment. His
face lit up, an idea in mind. Picking up the phone, he sent out the
word. He needed a bodyguard and not just anyone. He needed a
super-powered bodyguard. He waited for the first patch to arrive at his factory. Freddy wanted to fight. He would fight back

After reading the files available, Red 53 pondered this. He was good.
One of the best trained assassins he knew of. This was a bit too much
to handle alone though. He would need help. Picking up the phone, he
began making calls to find someone to help him. Finally, pulling a few
favors he had contact information for just what he needed. Pulling up
the phone, he dialed the number for Red Death to offer a partnership.

Gentleman smiled as they hung up the phone. Even though this kind of jobs were definately not his favourite sort of enterprize, and largely unsuitable for a man of his high birth, impeccable standards and fancy tophat, they usually paid rather well, and generally were "under the radar" of the police, due to the fact that they rarely got involved with crooks doing their best to take other crooks out untill after the job was done. However, that being said, he usually would have politely but decidedly turned a job like this down under normal circumstances. He was a professional thief, not a minder, and definately not the sort to get dragged into a turf-war of some lowly yokels whom were so far beneath his notice that he wouldn't be able to see them to a metaphorical microscope. However, since New York had exploded he had lost a most of his criminal apparathus and the network of various fences and stashes he had painstakingly built up over the years, and untill he had gotten a similar network running somewhere else, he had no room to be picky about what sort of job that he would take.

However, it was with somewhat low spirits that he clothed himself in the "Gentleman's" styilish apparrell After all, this night would probably be nowhere as fun as the masterfull robberies he usually engaged in. Not to mention the fact that nothing would be likely to happen for a very long time. He'd probably just be sitting next to some foul-smelling, small-time gangster watching the horrible cavalcade of immoral ventures that passed for Television in this disgusting cess-pool of a city.

In the darkness of the evening the gentleman quickly flew over to the adress he had been given by the man who had phoned him. He was actually mighty pleased to not having go through the whole cloak-and-dagger routine that usually came with pulling a job like that. "Go and collect parsel a from person 4" Was a horrible way to spend an evening. As he reached the destination he strolled right in, instantly making himself at home. A pair of thugs who looked so thuggish they might as well be the faces you stared into when you looked up "Thug" in the dictionary gave him a quick pat-down before he was let in to see the boss. They did not bother with the chit-chat too. Gentleman figured that the costume worked well enough to identifuy him as one of the hired experts.

Roy looked somewhat like had expected him too, far less frightening than he had expected him to be, though. Probably came with having the foresight of hiring the gentleman for a bodyguard.

"Ah, Mr. Roy I presume. Well met, good sir. Well met indeed! I gather that this. . . charming abode is what passes for your dwelling at the moment. Quite 'Rustic' if you allow me to say so. Not that one claims he is an expert on fineries, just that I expected something a little less 'Vulgar' from a man at your station, No offense meant, of course. To each his own, as they say. " The gentleman said quickly before the man had time to even open his mouth. His deep, melodious voice had almost a theatrical quality to it, and there was obviously a tone of arrogancy and superiority in it aswell.

"Oh, how rude of me, I am indeed the Gentleman, and I will serve as your minder for this evening. Just make sure you have the money ready for when I depart come morning. As I made clear to your associate over the telephone, I do not take IOU's." He continued with a very limber, theatrical bow. This sort of behaviour had often been mocked by other thugs in suits, but they had rarely done it more than once.

Mickey had been cooking lunch for him and Naomi when the phone rang. Holding a sizzling pan in one hand, he took the phone off its receiver and balanced it between his head and shoulder as he stirred the pasta around. What he heard next made him narrow his eyes. It was another bodyguard request, a well paying one. He had been receiving an unusual amount of these lately. How did these guys even know his number? Heck, how did they even know he existed? Meh, he may as well do it. Maybe he would even get to kill someone. It had been a while since he had done that. Not that he took any great pleasure in the act of killing people, but he was planning on killing everybody on the planet, even if he did it one at a time.

After he listened to the details of this job, he accepted it and hung up. Checking the time, he had a few hours before his employer wanted him to reach the meeting place. It was quite far away, and would take time to get there, so he'd have to get an early start. After a quick bite, he got out a bag filled with a knife and spare clothes and said goodbye to Naomi.

"If I don't come back, then I'm either dead or captured. In that case the apartments yours. The spare keys are under the couch." he was only half-joking when he said that. After his first job and getting his ass handed to him, he realized this business wasn't as easy as he had first thought. He hailed a taxi, the driver of whom was alarmed to hear his destination, but after a quick threat and a flash of the knife he had hidden in his bag he was more than happy to bring him there. It was a precaution in case he had to fight tonight. A few hours later the taxi sped off, leaving Mickey facing the building he was supposed to meet his employer. In the darkness of the night, it was incredibly shady looking, but what else was he expecting? Before walking in, he took off his civilian clothes and stuffed them in the bag in an alley, having worn his costume underneath. He was immediately confronted by extremely stereotypical looking thugs who watched him with menacing stares.

"Relax guys, you're boss, Roy, i believe to be his name, hired me to guard him. So no need to be hostile. We're all friends here." despite his attempt to make 'friends', they still checked him for weapons and liberated the knife he was keeping, all without saying a word. So he was a bit irritated once he was allowed to meet Roy, as that had been a very good quality knife. Hopefully he'd be able to get it back later, with a little persuading. Once he finally met his boss, he found another man already there. "Yo," he said in greeting and turned his attention to the rather average-looking man that was Roy.

"Sooo...I'm Songbird, that Aisan Dude, Psychopath, or just Birdy for short, whatever you want to call me. Nice place you got here. I especially liked the welcoming committee, they were nice enough to hold my knife for me. You must've made a serious enemy out of someone if you need powered bodyguards. Any idea who we're guarding you from?"

((ooc so the post order will be oro, troglodyte, pyscho, red death))

An incoming transmission suddenly appeared on the next computer that Red 53 logged into. For some odd reason, the computer network didn't register the incoming feed as it played. The woman on screen was none other than Galya Kozhurov, the notorious black market Empress. She spoke in her native Russian language, which was cleanly translated to Japanese through computer software.

"Mr. Katsumi, this is a rare pleasure. It is not often my services are required outside the office. I have heard of your reputation, so I would gladly take the opportunity to work by your side. The GK-35 unit will be dispatched to your location with specialized equipment for this mission. I will expect payment in full upon termination of your target. I would advise you to wear the gas mask I send with the GK-35. Your health may depend on it."

The video terminated as suddenly as it appeared. No trace of it was left on the computer, but the message was very clear. Red Death was in.

---

Galya stepped away from the computer once the transmission was finished transmitting. She had recorded the message hours earlier, so the GK-35 unit was already well on its way aboard a private jet. It would arrive within the day and begin receiving her commands. Publicly she wasn't well known as a killer (unless you counted the deaths from the weapons she sold to others), but a few contacts knew about her specialized robotic warrior. Those contacts let this information slip to certain people who needed her specialized assistance. Apparently Mr. Katsumi or someone he worked for had meet one of her contacts. This was just a small job for her, since it was just a simple assassination. The GK-35's body count wasn't very high yet, but it carried out its missions effectively enough to wipe out any resistance it had previously encountered. It was much more effective than the GK-34 model.

Galya hadn't traveled with her robot this time, since she was just as effective across the globe as she was a mile away. She wasn't going to need to be there to pick up the scraps in the case of a failed mission. So until the package arrived, she tried out a new form of mental therapy some scientist in Finland had come up with. She sat down in a chair and lowered a mask over her face. It was supposed to stimulate certain parts of the brain during sleep to make you much more alert the following day. Well this was a good enough time to try it out, with a small mission to take care of tomorrow. With the dark mask in place, Galya was sound asleep in minutes.

---

A shrill alarm sounded from her computer, and the mask device shut down as Galya woke. Her mind was certainly much more alert now. Unfortunately that level of awareness was also driving a splitting headache into her skull. She cursed the entire Finnish nation and stumbled across the room to her display. The screen lit up and gave her a view of the inside of a dark crate.

"All systems online. Assuming full control in 5, 4, 3...."

Red 53 heard the dial tone and then the ringing, but was surprised when it changed to the sound of the old dial-up modem connecting. Seeing his computer fritz, he hit keys in a mad attempt to stop the intrusion. The computer didn't contain a lot of sensitive information, but it did have enough it would be bothersome if it got out. Red 53 stopped hitting keys though when her face appeared. It was a strange feeling he felt, but not bad or unpleasant. He paid attention to her response, strangely not even bothered by her use of that hated name. He was pleased that she would be sending aid. When her computer link ended, Red 53 looked at the prototype he had been working on. This would be the perfect chance to use it. Red 53 finished his preparations through the day. Putting the final touches on his design, he built the tracking device with utmost care. He tested it several times with animals in the neighborhood. He didn't have a permit for animal testing, but that was really the least of his crimes. Working for an hour on repairing his armor and sharpening his blades came next. A couple hours before they were to begin, he found the plans for the factory. Red 53 had seen two unexpected guests arrive, one he wasn't familiar with, the other though would be a problem. The Gentleman Thief. Word in the underground was he had defeated a small army with a box of popsicles. After some further research, he found the information on Songbird as well. For this, Red 53 was going to need a plan.

Roy's quilt factory wasn't large by factory standards, but it was still a pretty good sized building. Most of the building was devoted to assembly lines lined with stools for workers, automated looms covered in switches, and large rolls of cloth with many different patterns. Another third of the building was used for storing the raw materials that aren't in use yet and the completed product until it could be picked up for delivery. In the remaining space was a break room for employees, a locker room and several offices for the management, one of which the three were now in. Roy had been about to welcome the first of the newly hired help when the man had cut him off and prattled on about how little he thought of Roy and how much he thought of himself. Just as the arrogant man finished and Roy opened his mouth to speak, again he was interrupted. This time by a younger asian man. At least the second one only had a mild tone of sarcasm. Roy would punish whoever had chosen the first of the men. "My name is Roy Gunther. For the remainder of the evening and night, you will call me Mr. Gunther or, if you prefer something simpler, Boss, just as all of my hired help. On that topic," Roy reached into a drawer and pulled out two stacks of cash, "here is the upfront 5000 as promised." Roy stood from his chair and walked around his desk. "A competitor has decided that he doesn't like my blankets, but I sent him a fairly strong," Roy paused long enough to smile and chuckle, "message. As for what specifically I'm being guarded from has yet to be determined. All I know is that it cost 20 grand to be hired." He finished with a snap and a gorilla of a man trudged in. "Show our guests around, especially entrances and exits. Make sure they are comfortable and have everything they need. Also, whoever took my bodyguard's knife is to be stabbed with it and then have the knife brought back to... Um... This asian guy."

Red 53 was ready. He stood on a building across the street watching the activity through the windows with his binoculars. All he needed now was Red Death's mechanical fiend to arrive. A smile came unexpectedly upon his face when Red 53 thought about his message from her this morning. He shook his head. This was a distraction and distractions got you killed. He checked his watch one last time. It was just about showtime.

"Ah, how generous of you, old chap!" Gentleman said pleasantly and flashed roy brief smile as he quickly counted through the bills and put them in his the inner-pocket of his coat with a smug grin on his face.
" Why thank you, Old boy! I had you pegged as a fellow who knows talent when he sees it, as well as the sort of man who avoids making promise he cannot keep" The gentleman said rather smugly, his theatrical, almost shakespearean delivery rather unfitting for a hired goon before he took his monocle out and polished it absentmindedly before he put it back in front of his eye. It seemed that they were offered the grand tour of the facility

Gentleman smiled as he twirled his umbrella around in a sort of charlie-chaplin-ish way as the pair got sent off to have a brief tour around the facility. He could not say he was impressed by this little set-up, but once again he had to remind himself that in times such as these, he had no oppurtunity to be picky concerning what sort of jobs he got himself involved with. He sighed as he adjusted his monocle and nonchalantely gazed at one of the mechanical looms standing abandoned in a corner. He had gotten into this buisness for a chance of drama and adventure! To bring some excitement into his life! Of course, the money was sweet too, but that was not the entire reason. He was like the great white explorers of old, and this great, dangerous city, with its depths and pitfalls was his africa! If he had seen what he was doing eight years ago, when he started the whole gentleman-thing, he might just have left the tophat on the shelf instead.

But despite his dissapointment and boredom he paid attention to the set-up of the lair. He had no intention of failing this particurlar assignement. Even though his reputation was in tatters, there was no reason to tear it up further, after all. However, he assumed that keeping his rep in one piece would be easier said than done. Especially since Roy had felt it nessecary to hire two of them for a rather large amount of money aswell. And Songbird was a wildcard. He could not say he had heard of him at all. He was uncertain how - or even if he would contribute if the situation would turn ugly.

"Songbird, eh? I cannot say that I have ever heard that moniker around town, old bean. Although, with the Destruction of New York, it seems that our rarified circles of association has gone through something of a shift of both power and individuals, would you not say?" Gentleman spoke, his theatrical voice very smug and more than a little arrogant as he questioned his younger colleague, as he once again adjusted his monocle obsessively

"Still, the moniker brings to mind a canary in the middle of a lions den, haha. Oh, but do excuse my rathe tastless attempt at humor my good man!" he continued in a tone that could easily be considered one of good nature if it was not for the concieted undertones. this time he smiled just enough for his pearly-white teeth to be revealed. Hopefully the boy was the sort that understood his own place in the great chain of things, and was worldly enough to know that he aught to respect his betters.


As the tour was over Gentleman strutted through the doors back into his employers office. If they were dealing with something truly worthy of his attention it might as well come through the wall as through the door."I believe it would be in your own interest to have me nearby in case something happens, good sir. After all, I cannot protect you from across the building, now can?" The gentleman said with a small chortle following his comment. "Of course, it is all up to you, my good man. You are the man who pays me, after all."

Mickey flipped through the stack of bills he had received and let out a low whistle. This guy have some serious connections. Of course, that meant whoever might be attacking would likely be very strong. He'd have to stay on guard. He stuffed the bills in his bag inside a hidden pocket. Wouldn't do to lose it. He raised an eyebrow when Roy told his minion to stab whoever took his knife.

"That's a bit harsh, ain't it? Though I guess you can do what you want since it's your minion," he said before they were led on a tour of the place. He noted the locations of the windows and exits. A long range attack was also a possibility, and in case of attack at least one exit should be kept open. He kept half his mind on the conversation of the man he was to work with.

"I can't say I'm exactly well-known yet, but then again, I just started my...career a few months ago. I haven't been all that successful, mostly because of my own stupidity. And who would you be? I don't believe I received your name," he could tell from this mans way of talking that he was quite smug and arrogant, but nothing he hadn't run into before. He gave him a half-smile in return. He would stand this guy as long as the mission took, but he wasn't going to let him treat him as an inferior.

His partner walked back into Roy's office, and Mickey lingered around the doorway. "If you think you've got things covered in here, would you rather I patrol around and look out for anything, or have me stay here as well? Captain Comedian over here seems to think hes got it covered, but it can't hurt to be cautious now, can't it?

Galya did not know who her oppenents would be if the target hired any bodyguards. But she did know what the assets were among allies. The man who had hired her was a ninja, and she was not. Nor was her robot one, if one could be. A ninja worked in stealth, while she worked in a grand display of weaponry and explosions. In other words, she was the greatest distraction good money could buy.

As soon as the initiation sequence finished, the side of the crate fell open to give her a full view of the factory. The crate had not been delivered right to its doorsteps, but the building across the street had been close enough. Having someone sign for the tool of their own death would have been amusing though...


GK-35 stepped out of the crate, cycled through all of her sensor settings, then aimed its arm straight at the front door of the factory. A long barrel opened up in the arm and fired three volleys of shotgun slugs that ripped through the door like a hot knife through butter and produced enough noise to wake the neighborhood.

That should get their attention... and give the ninja a window.

Assassins and Bodyguards
Roy Gunther could already feel his patience wearing thin with this Gentleman character as he tried to rub the growing headache away. Every move this man made was intended to make others look insignificant and himself to look important. Roy sighed and thought to himself, "It's only one night. After this I'm spending a week in the Bahamas." He took a look around his cluttered, crowded office and waved Songbird out, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my work, I hired you to be the experts on defending me." Turning to the Gentleman, he said, "If you want to take a position by the door, it's the only entrance to this room. Although, if you'd like to go to the other side of the factory that would work as well."

Six thugs were standing guard by the front door telling jokes. One finishes his punchline, "Dammit! I missed!" When three large holes burst through him from the other side of the door. The others where just wiping the blood off when the door fell open on their comrade's body and a robot was on the other side. The thugs immediately raised their automatic rifles and began unloading their clips into the monstrosity.

Red 53 watched as the robot marched out of one building and approach the door. Followed by the biggest nonexplosive weapon he could think of at the moment firing, not once, but three times. So much for a plan... But this was the plan. His partner would gave all eyes on her. Sure he could fight, but this way he may not have to. Red 53 climbed down the building by dropping to a window ledge and pushed off toward the factory, crashing through a window onto the upper catwalk. He quickly began moving toward the back offices, alert for any hitches.

Gentleman would never admit it, but when he heard the sudden loud noise of several shotgun-shots going off somewhere around the main entrance of the factory, he was more than a little startled, and even though he didn't jump in fear, his monocle popped out in a humorous fashion as his eyes widened. However, he quickly put it back into place again, seemingly instantaneously. After all, if one was dedicated to wearing a monocle, one could not let little situations like this disrupt the habit. It was the principle of the thing. He could not deny that he was made rather nervous by this sudden attack, but on the bright side it gave him quite some time to decide how to proceed.

As a safety-precaution he reached inside one of his manypockets and dug out a handfull of coins and assorted scrap out of it. He kept his pockets filled wit hthings like this whenever he expected trouble. After all,with his peculiar ability, one of these unnassuming little pieces of metal would be able to go through the walls reinforced bunker like a hot knife through butter. Despite his nigh-unshakeable fate in his abilities and their destructive potential, he was rather nervous about this whole endevour.

. "My, my. I think I hear somebody knocking on the door, ol' boy." He said, the deep theatric quality of his voice somewhat cheerfull, as if he had just made a first-class joke, despite the potentially deadly goings on. There was no indication that the ostentatiously dressed, flamboyant man was even moderately nervous about the whole thing.

"I will go see what all the hubbub is about, shall I?" He continued, leaving his umbrella on the desk as he opened the door to see what was transpiring outside the office. However, despite his rather blase attitude he had taken quite a few precautions, including charing his clothes up with his mystical energy, making them all but bullet-proof. The first thing he noticed was a broken window, and it caused quite a few metaphorical warning-bells to go off within his brain. It was too far away from the shot-gun-noises to be related, no, this was far more sinister. That was when he noticed the figure on the cat-walk.

Have at thee! The gentleman shouted dramatically as he hurled his charged projectiles towards the man, each of them more than powerfull enough to smash through anything in their path, and moving quite a bit faster than a bullet. Not waiting to see if his target had been hit, Gentleman quickly switched targets and hurled candy-wrapper at the support-beam of the catwalk, causing it to crash unto the floor. Hopefully that would deter the assassins a bit. He quickly closed the door behind him as he moved back into Roy's office, locking it behind him.

"It seems your facility is compromised, old boy, but fear not, for I will take you somewhere safe." The gentleman said, his theatrical training not able to hide the fact that he was starting to get somewhat nervous about this whole thing. He quickly grabbed ahold of his umbrella, as he opened the window, wrapping part of his billowy cloak around Roys shoulders to give him some shielding against stray bullets, and then the pair was all but ready to take to the air. . .

"The Hell?" Songbird shouted when he heard the gunshots, and he realized whoever they were guarding Roy from had come for him. "I think you oughta start running now." he said to Roy over his shoulder as he followed after the Gentleman as they ran toward the noise, and he was slightly surprised to see a few bloody corpses along with a robot and some kind of ninja dressed in red on the catwalk. Seeing Gentleman attack the hostiles, he quickly followed suit and let out a sonic screech at the one in red. He would've told his partner to cover his ears, but there were bigger things to worry about, and he was sure Gentleman could handle it. Otherwise, why would Roy hire him?

"You get Roy out of here, I'll handle things here!" he yelled as the well-dressed man rushed back to the office. With that he turned back to the assassins with a cocky smile on his face. "Now then, who would you guys be? It won't really matter whether you'll tell me or not, because by tomorrow, you'll be dead. Though I guess you can't really kill a robot, eh?" Songbird taunted them, purposefully acting overconfident. If he could get them to think he was weaker than he proclaimed, it might give him a leg up in the fight. He twirled his knife, given back to him during the tour, in his hands, playing around with it to set them off guard.

"Whatever, as long as i get paid it doesn't matter who i kill. Come at me!" he challenged. In truth, Songbird was actually a bit wary of how this might turn out. He had had a devastating defeat by that ice user, and barely managed to get out of it. And she was only aiming to arrest him back then. These guys would likely kill him, and that was not something he was exactly looking forward to.

Metahumans... why was it always them standing in her way? Not that she wasn't ever prepared for them, but they usually managed to ding up her robot and cost her money. Using her more powerful weapons also cost her money, but it might be the only way to take away a paycheck from this job. She felt her headache coming back from that, so she popped a pain pill and sipped on some water. When the powerful drug kicked in and cleared her head, she took to the controls again.

With a deep sigh, she toggled the filtered voice system to give her warning. "If you leave now, I won't destroy you. I am on a tight schedule, so I'd rather not waste my time with you." Whether he took that as a threat or not was not her concern. She didn't make threats. She stated exactly what her intentions were. "This one's your warning..." Galya terminated communication and armed the gas canister launcher.

A press of a button tossed out a canister that began spewing gas all around Songbird, engulfing him in its fumes. Luckily for him, this wasn't gas of the red variety. She was saving that for the kill. And Songbird wasn't valuable enough to her for that. Instead, this gas was white and nearly thin enough to be colorless.

Galya was counting on Songbird to use the powers she'd witnessed. It appeared that he had to take in breath in order to use it, so she'd provided him with Phantom Stasis to breathe in instead of air. And once he did inhale the neurotoxins in the gas, he'd begin to feel his nervous system relax and slow down. He'd start to feel dizzy, unsteady, and out of focus until the headaches began to hammer at his brain. Basic motor functions of the body would trigger incorrectly and spasm at times.

... and that was only the start while he continued to breathe it all in. "Enjoy, little bird," she muttered to herself from the safety of her base across the globe.

Assassins and Bodyguards
When The Gentleman ran out of the room, Roy fetched his trusty shotgun. Just as he decided to just lock the fight out on the factory floor, The Gentleman had come back, locked the door, and put his grimy hands around Roy. The audacity of this man knew no bounds. Roy Gunther grabbed the gun from the desk and held it in a clublike manner towards his captor, "You put me down this instant peasant or so help me. That door is 5 feet of reinforced steel, same as all the walls to this office. They could withstand a tank!"

Red 53 was losing his touch. Not only had he been spotted, but he had been spotted by both of the powered bodyguards. By now all the thugs had ran or had been disposed of, so at least one thing was going right.
As the first support broke, Red 53 jumped forward to the next group. He heard a scream and the next group was destroyed before he reached it. As the pieces began to fall, he telekinetically pulled a piece behind him. Pushing off that piece, he over-jumped the third section. He grabbed the railing to turn his momentum downward, grabbed the bottom of the catwalk to turn forward. He went into a flying kick that would hit the gentleman as he ran back into the office when the door closed before he got there. Changing stance quickly, he landed on the door and landed with his feet on the floor. Red 53 heard the lock click, saw the keyhole turn. He smiled an ironic smile. One skill he could never pick up was lock picking. So instead, he grabbed the lock with his kinetic powers and simply unlocked it.

Roy stopped his tirade when his unbreachable door suddenly unlocked on it's own. When it opened, there was the agent of his death. "Don't put me down! Save me! Save me! I'm paying you so save me!" Roy squealed in The Gentleman's ear, hitting him with thebutt pf the gun.

Red 53 stepped in the room and saw his query poised to flee. Looking at the vain Gentleman, Red 53 said with an evident sneer in his voice, "They told me you were someone to be careful with when fighting. That you could take down an army of tanks with a box of popsicles. Apparently they were wrong. You don't have to be careful with cowards." Red 53 threw a shuriken at The Gentleman, secretly though, he was just hiding the tracking device in the shurikens shadow being thrown at his query.

Gentleman snorted in contempt as Roy started to squeal like a particurlarly indignant pig, Even going so far as to call him a peasant. Mighty rude, even for a person of Roy's obviously horrendous breeding. For a few fleeting seconds, the gentleman actually considered throwing his ungratefull boss to the wolves, for his bratty insolence, but quickly decided against it. He had no intention of wanting to be known for being treacherous, but niether had he any intention of being talked to as if was a mere servant. He may have been temporarily hired, that much was true, but he would be damned before he would accept being treated like an ordinary hired thug

"Keep it down, you pea-brained, uncoordinated, absurdly-dressed excuse of a man! !" He scolded, his earlier so eloquent style of speach sloughing off ever so slightly as his temper was being tested once again by his infuriating boss. This would be the first and the last time he would work for Roy. He could stand danger and violence, but these indignities? Hmf! These where the thoughts that ran through the Fancily dressed crooks head as he made preparation for the pairs untimely escape. Hopefully his colleague would at least be able to keep the assassin and his pet robot busy for the ten seconds he would need to abscond this location.

However, the hope he had placed in his colleague seemed to be misplaced as the ninja-man burst into the room, immediately causing his annoying commander to do a U-turn in his priorities, now howling for Gentleman to save him, doing everything bu to beg on his bare knees. "Plebeian leaders. . . Not any pride, nor any sense of style whatsoever, wouldn't you agree, good sir?" Gentleman mused as the ninja burst through the door, his Theatrically deep voice being calm of melodious, seemingly bereft of any signs of anxiousness or fright. However, the Gentleman was not as calm as his demeneor might suggest. He could feel the sweat that had accumulated beneath his hat, upon his brow. He was well aware that any carelessness on his part might be enough to send him to meet his long-dead ancestors.

The Finely dressed gentleman inched sideways towards the window as he talked, seemingly hoping to make his escape before the ninja had time to do any serious attack. One of his hands were ons roys desk, and the other was wrapped around the waste of his temporary protectee. He was secretely charging the desk, with energy. It would make a good projectile against the ninja in these cramped quarters, as room for dodging was sparse at best. The Ninja then spoke up, seemingly trying to entice him into action, but even though Gentleman was an arrogant ponce, he was not quite that foolish. Under normal circumstances he would likely stay and fight after such a slur against him was made, but he prided himself on his professionalism, and as a professional, the job had to take precedence over petty, personal concerns.

"Please, sir. Do not embarrass yourself. Even lowly thugs occasionally attempt to manipulate me by insulting my honor. I had expected better from you, sirrah!" He answered indignantly, and barely had time to finnish his sentance before the attack came. A shuriken! Gentleman took away his hand from the desk, and the big lump of polished ebony flew off towards the ninja, effectively stopping his projectile and the proceeded to fly across the room, smashing through the "impenetrable" wall of roys office as if it was made of cardboard. However, the cleverly hidden tracking-device caught onto the dapper shoulder of the dapper gentleman.

In the meantime the gentleman and his boss had leapt out through the window, and were now flying through the air at incredible speeds, heading higher and higher, hopefully putting htem out of range for the assassins. Although, Gentleman was not yet certain that they had succeeded in their missions. Things are rarely so easy when dealing with superhumans. However, he could not entirely repress the wave of joy that came over him with his current success "Tally-Ho!" he exclaimed both loudly and poshly as the pair flew towards freedom!