I paced around the room, my feet hitting the floor as if they were as light as a feather. It was like I wasn't really on the floor but instead was hovering over by mere centimeters. Which I was, but that was both beside the point and because Mrs. O'Reilly didn't like to hear people bounce against the floor above her head.
"You know," Louise drawled, lazed out on her bed, I wasn't looking at her but I could imagine that she was rolling her eyes at my rather stressed-out state. "Most guys would be ecstatic about a mature lady coming onto them like that."
"Well… most mature women don't try and roofie you," I mumbled, trying to get it out there but not wanting the attention that such a statement would get. It didn't help that I wasn't really sure that was what the Doc had been trying to do, it might have just been a really strong drink that she'd given me.
I'd never been drugged before, so it was possible that what I felt wasn't the date rape drug.
But sadly for my attempt at getting that statement out unnoticed, Louise's ears peeked and she jumped, grabbing me by the shoulder and bringing me down to the bed. Her eyes staring right into mine, searching for something that I couldn't be sure of.
"Lay that on me again," Louise, the low growl in her voice reminding me of a dog that had just been kicked. "This time louder."
There was a tension in the air, something that in the few months I'd spent around the girl wasn't normal. Usually, Louise went around with the same sort of attitude that I've only seen in surfer dudes in old 90's shows.
"I think she tried to drug me?" I eventually folded, though this time I made sure to phrase my statement as a question. Since it was more indicative of what I knew than what I had actually said.
"No... you said that the Doc had tried to roofie you," She corrected me, swinging around and away from me so she could take out her laptop. "That's different, that's a crime, we need to call the pigs on her ass and put her away."
You know it was odd how someone that grew up with a mafia-esque father would have such a hard moral line. It was like finding out that Santa ran a gambling den... just in inverse here.
"And say what?" I shrugged, watching as she started to type away at her laptop with a decent level of proficiency. "The drugs didn't work on me because of a fluke?"
Louise sighed while blowing her long red hair from her face. She'd not been for me keeping my abilities under wraps, saying that it's pointless since it wasn't like I was going out there and being an active vigilante.
I didn't correct her since I hadn't done any repeats of the docks incident, instead focusing on learning under Ben or hanging out with Louise, much to Jimbo's annoyance.
"No... but you could... " She trailed off, her hands coming back down to slam on her laptop's keys. "... fuck you and your secret superpowers."
This was one of the continuous topics between the two of us, that I was hiding my powers at all.
"I'm not sure that it matters," I told her, getting off her bed and sitting instead on a computer chair that Jimbo, as I've come to call Mr. O'Reilly, had gotten with her desktop. Because she really needed both a laptop and a desktop. "She's probably the reason for the blackouts that have been plaguing Lower Manhattan recently."
"Probably?"
"Yup," I nodded at her, bending down to turn the desktop on with a single press of a button. "In fact, I need to do some research on her, mind if I use your computer?"
"I'm pretty sure possible rapist is a bigger crime than being reckless with experiments."
Even though Louise said this, the redhead still nodded consent to my use of her computer.
In most other cases I'd agree with my younger friend, rapists are a kind of monster that needs to burn in a special kind of hell, they're kind are ones even Satan himself would find too evil to be let around the normal denizens of Hell.
Even just discussing it made me sick to my guts.
"Sure, in most cases," I said, continuing the line of conversation. "But here we got multiple cases of endangerment, illegal experiments, and even then it's likely that if the Doc would roofie someone she just meets, then it's likely that she's-"
"-actually managed the deed with other people." Louise finished for me, her chin coming to rest on my shoulder as I brought up a list of Doctors with the name of Olivia Octavius from the American Association of Degrees. Not sure if that's an organization that existed on my Earth. "That's smart, a list of crimes that will put her away for the rest of our lives, never mind hers."
"Exactly," The names appeared on the screen as I said these words, a total number of thirteen people were registered by that name. Further limiting the scope of the search, I added the modifier of two or more degrees. "Found her, seems that she used to work for Stark Industries till recently."
Something that I found somewhat surprising, to be honest. It wasn't till six months ago that the company pulled away from weaponry to focus more in areas that Apple and Tesla had been the leaders in. It looks like Dr. Octavius had been an early hire to help with the new direction the company had taken... only to be let go in a month and a half working there.
"Doesn't appear to be a reason listed for it." I mused something that brought Louise out of whatever thought she'd been having since I started to take in the information. "I wonder how hard that will be to get from Stark Industries?"
"Depends on whatever agreements she had prior," My friend said, her hand going for her Blackberry phone before glancing at me with a sly smile. "If she was let go because the experiments weren't going the way she wanted or if it was something she did on the job... it could be covered under an NDA. Might make getting the info hard."
Slightly impressed, I leaned back into the computer chair, my eyes closing for a moment and let meself think on the approach that I'd need to use to get the information if that was so. There was very little chance that I could sneak in, my skills in that arena were comparable to a bull in a china shop of nothing but red plates.
"Well, only one way to find out," Louise winked at me, handing me her phone, the device making that wonderful dialing tone that was made whenever calling someone. "Go get them."
"Wait, wha-" My exclamation of surprise was interrupted by the call being picked up, something only annoyed me because I knew that if I had called them myself I would've been forced to hold.
"Stark Industries, public relations desk, how may I help you?" The phrase was said with a mix of a dull dry tone that lacked any enthusiasm for life and the accent of a Southern Belle. The fusion of what I considered to be an upbeat accent with a depressing tone just went on to highlight how my day had been going. Mixed.
"Yes, m-my name is Patrick Doyle," I replied, in that sort of anxiety filled manner that only someone that's been overworked by an office staff would notice. Something that I hoped the woman on the other end would pick up on. "I work for the New York Bulletin and was looking into a certain former employee of Stark Industries."
"I see," She murmured on the other side of the line, her lip audibly being chewed. "This for some sort of story?" It was oddly asked like the woman was fishing for something, maybe wanted to see if there was anything in this for her.
"Not directly, I was investigating a series of odd going ons and meet with a Doctor that was fired in the last few months," I explained, hoping that being honest but loose with details would get better results than being coy. "Just checking in to see if this woman is likely to be the cause of this."
"Well... I'm going to need a name before I tell you what I can, even former employees are under NDAs."
It was like we had thought, but hopefully, this help desk lady will be able to... help me with some details at least. So I took a breath, for some reason looking both ways, much to Louise's amusement, and spoke;
"Doctor Olivia Octavius."
There was what I could only describe as a beat of silence on the other end of the line, stretching out the tension that I could feel gather in my arms and pushing it through my chest. I wasn't sure what it meant, but it was another thing to add to my list of things that caused me anxiety in life.
Awkward silences over the phone.
"From what I can see," The woman eventually said, the silence finally breaking as her voice was accompanied with the sounds of harsh keyboard strokes. "The Doctor was let go because she got into an argument with Mr. Stark... where she said... and I'm quoting here... It would only kill like three people... Mr. Stark didn't like that."
I could certainly see why you wouldn't want her to have access to the resources that Stark Industries could grant her if that was her idea of safe.
"What about... allegations of a more... intimate nature?" I asked, my heart racing and my palms started to itch.
Another beat of silence from the other end of the phone, this time it was broken by a gasp of shock.
"There's nothing on file," She said, her hands typing out much faster, making me wish that I could see what the hell was on her screen. I could hear a conversation on the other side going now, all in harsh whispers and worried tones. "What brought this question to bare?"
"I met her."
My rather droll sounding reply caused the lady to give out a sigh so full of relief that I'm sure that we could bottle it to reduce the need for helium.
"Well there doesn't seem to be any... but if you want I can kick this upstairs, just leave a number and I'll get back to you."
With that, she hung up before I could leave her with a number. I turned to look at Louise, who'd been standing close to overhear the whole conversation. She was standing now, her form towering over me while having a single eyebrow raised in amusement.
"What do you think the good Doctor's Would only kill three people experiment was?" Louise asked, picking up a red jacket and throwing it on with the same care that I'd expect from someone that wanted to tear their clothes rather than wear it. "Let's find out."
I was left alone in her room for about twenty seconds, just sitting there silently waiting for the computer to turn off. It didn't really matter if the youngest O'Reilly got far from me, unless Louise magically became the Flash. I doubt I was going to have many issues with catching up with her.
But still, there was something… wrong. I could feel myself being watched.
I'd tread carefully from this here on out.
(Betty)
She didn't have to wait for long till her partner stepped into the apartment, his body covered in sweat as if he had just run a marathon. Betty couldn't help but giggle at the state her companion was in, it was cute to think that the man felt so threatened by her that he needed to go out and prove himself superior.
A notion that he was soon going to find was… wrong.
"You know there are easier ways into a girl's bedroom than scaling the outside of the building," Betty snarked, her grin wide and cat-like. "And here I was thinking that Octavius was the perve."
He didn't speak, finding that as long as he never lowered himself to her level of snark he could complete his duties and retain his sanity. If the man knew he could get away with it he'd kill her himself and burn the body.
"You know the strong silent type doesn't really match your file," The woman remarked, walking around the man till she was standing on behind him. One of the things that her gaze found was the sidearm strapped to his leg, a standard nine-millimeter pistol, something that brought a frown to Betty's face. "Side-arms were meant to be left here."
For the first time since he returned, the man snapped to attention his own frown soon to follow as he turned around to face Betty.
"And I said that I wouldn't go into the Doctor's apartment without some protection," His reply lacked any true heat in tone but his eyes told Betty all she needed to know. Grant was mad that she dared to question any of his decisions.
"Listen to me," She said lowly, her teeth grinding into a snarl as she tore the gun from his side. "The idea was not to bring anything metallic, she might have set up an alarm system-"
"And I checked before going in, there was nothing there-"
"-That could've wiped her computer systems as you got close," Betty continued, ignoring the man's rather childish attempt at interrupting her. The older woman was far too professional to be taken aback by such actions. "Then where would we be?"
Grant just glared at her, even as she sat back down on a comfy chair, her left foot on the coffee table while her right was draped over it. She knew that this would cause him to crack up a bit, the level of nonchalance that she was showing around Grant obviously grated on his nerves.
Usually, she wouldn't engage in such behavior but this was a different time and there was something really wrong with the way that Grant carried himself, the way that his smiles never went to his eyes. The way that his voice never went under a certain octave.
This guy was wearing a mask, one that Betty wanted to tear off and shove down his throat.
"It doesn't matter, we've got the information that was on the drive," Grant eventually replied, his voice small but clear. "And the target is still unaware of our presence here."
"And the bugs? Did you plant those as well."
Grant scoffed, something that the man had been doing a lot since he'd been assigned to work under Betty. The two just weren't compatible with working together on such long term missions, which would've surprised their superiors given how similar they were. On paper, they were the perfect pair, maybe they could even be the next Barton and Romanov…
… reality just didn't want to follow through with that idea.
"Of course, I did," Eventually he spoke up, but only after Betty glared at him for around thirty seconds. "I'm a professional, I know how to get the job done. I don't need to get babied."
"Well," Betty replied, elongating the word so it came out as sarcastically as possible. "Our techies in the other room haven't gotten a signal from that apartment. So you must've screwed up somehow."
There was an icy chill in the air, something that seemed to be from the fact that the window was still open from Grant climbing in. What wasn't from the open window was the thick tension that filled that air, especially as the two started to get closer to each other, as they started to circle around each other as if they were about to engage in mortal combat.
"Hey, guys we've found... out… why… " One of the technicians entered the room, trailing off as their eyes saw how the two were looking for some brawling. "What's going on?"
Suddenly it was like someone had turned a valve, released all that built up the pressure into the outside world and the two agents were transformed. Instead of being near ravenous human beings, ready to tear each other from limb from limb, the two looked to be the best of friends.
"Nothing," they spoke together as if they were synced by some cosmic force, even continuing on to their next sentence. "What have you found?"
The tech just raised a brow, examining them like they were part of the puzzle they were here to solve.
"Turns out the good Doctor has somehow managed to shield her apartment," he said, laying a laptop down on the coffee table, a schematic of an apartment layout visible on its screen. "We're not sure how exactly, whatever it is its high tech stuff, but-"
"And you're sure she's not just found the bugs and disposed of them?" Betty asked, bringing up the far more likely scenario with the air that one would use when asking if the other person had left the oven on.
"Oh no, see we're getting some signal from the bugs but they're muted," The smallest of the people here explained, his finger pointing at a series a red dots that littered around design plans. "So we're not going to be able to spy on her right now but if she opens the front door… then we're going to see some action."
She didn't even bother to look at Grant's face, knowing that he'd be wearing that smug grin of his. Something that would've meant she'd break the facade of professionalism that was put up and shove his teeth down his throat.
"Well, that just means we need to get her out of the building," Grant spoke, his arms crossed against his chest while his mouth stretched into that grin Betty so hated.
"Sounds like you've got an idea?"
"Arson."
(Patrick Doyle)
"Making my way downtown," Louise sang, much to the annoyance of those walking past her, which was to my own amusement. You wouldn't think that someone that was as physically built as Louise would be into randomly singing while walking down the street. "Walking fast," She continued a smile on her face, which grew as more confused people were passed. "Faces pass and I'm home-bound."
But at over six feet and with arms like tree trunks, I wouldn't like to be the asshole who thinks that it would be smart to make a comment.
"Why that song?" I asked, stopping the girl in the middle of the street, people now just walking around her as they continue their journeys. Louise didn't bring herself to answer right away, instead, she just stared at me with a dull but amused expression on her face.
"People just put on funnier faces when I pick songs like that," she shrugged. "No one looks at the sport star physique and goes… " Louise trailed off, obviously trying to remember the name of the person that sang that song, then she clicked her fingers together. "Vanessa Calton."
"I would've thought that they'd make faces simply because the over six-foot-tall red-head is singing in the middle of the street."
"Sure but there's a funnier look when it's something cringy."
Louise didn't seem to have that high of a threshold for cringe, especially if such a vanilla song was what she thought cringed was.
There wasn't any response after that, Louise just decided to return to our walking. Though this time it was without singing anything from Vanessa Calton. See we were heading towards a Stark Industries owned Laboratory, the only one currently active in the city.
The head man himself was on a bit of a spree currently, shutting down weapon research facilities but only replacing them with labs researching other things when they'd finally gotten another project off the ground. The biggest reason this wasn't a massive PR disaster for Stark was that there weren't any layoffs because of it, the personnel were simply given extended holidays or transferred to other departments.
Not that there wasn't a big scandal going at the moment. Some guy with energy whips had attacked a formula one race that Tony Stark had gotten himself into, the CEO had nearly been assassinated… but that only seemed to increase Stark Industries' reputation.
All this meant that in New York there was but one Lab that could've had Doctor Octavius on staff.
"We're here," Louise said, zipping her jacket up and stepping behind me. The lab was in an odd place, the building used to be an apartment complex, something that I would've thought meant that there couldn't be much in the way of dangerous experiments, something about public safety.
But if the Doc had been working here when she claimed that her experiments would kill at most three people? Then I'm going to say that some shit might be here.
"What's the plan?" I asked her as we stared at the doors to the building, the Stark Logo acting as a beacon to our eyes.
"Go in the front, tell whoever's manning the desk something… and just make a lot of noise," She told me, her voice low and her mouth now close to my ear. "I'll sneak in and get a look into their project files, see if we can't find what we're dealing with."
With those words, Louise walked away from me, a grin on her face telling me how much she was looking forward to this.
"Am I sure I'm the reporter?" I asked, feeling confused at the events happening. Making my way through the front door, the thing sliding open for me before I even get within arms' reach of it as my mind continued to churn out ideas.
How could I distract them? Fake a heart attack?
No, that would only lead the guys to call an ambulance and I would hate to be the reason why someone else didn't get theirs in time.
Act crazy? Start throwing chairs around? Maybe speak gibberish at the same time?
No, while it could work out to get them to call security, it's also something that could get their guard up and get in the way of Louise sneaking in. This would need a gentler hand than such direct methods.
My plan set, I walked towards the man sitting at the front desk, his smile clearly painted on while his eyes were staring out blankly towards the wall nearby. The glow of their computer screen was hitting their face in such a way that I could tell it had gone to screensaver from the light shine.
"He-he-hello," I stuttered out, twisting my foot on the surface of the floor as if I was a character out of Oliver Twist and letting my eyes fill with tears. It was time for a performance. "M-mister, I s-seem to be l-lost."
"Oh," the man raised one of his rather grey eyebrows up, his eyes shifting over to look at me in better detail. But I didn't let our eyes meet, deciding instead to let mine drop to the ground. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, instead humming and underneath that I could hear the sound of a button depressing under his desk. For some reason, this guy found me very suspicious and was calling security.
"Where do you want to be?"
My mind froze, having not really considered the answer before now but I could use this to my advantage.
"Ah… hum," I went, letting my tongue rise to the roof of my mouth to create a lot of gibbering noises. Adding to my guise I started to scratch the back of my head, rubbing the skin beneath my hair with just enough force to be believable. "Yeah, I know that I wanted to be… in a residential neighborhood a-and p-people pointed towards this d-direction but now I'm worried that I'm in the wrong place…"
Letting the sentence trail off, I continued to nervously grind the heel of my foot onto the ground. Not with all that much force, only enough to make it look convincing to this man's eye.
"What seems to be the problem?" A Newly arrived man piped in, a Stark Industries security uniform on his body, as he adjusted a baton that was fixed to his waist and giving me a passing glare before his eyes fell to his fellow employee.
"Nothing Frank," The sitting man of the two waved his security guard friend off. "Just a false alarm, kid was afraid that he'd gotten lost. But I wouldn't worry about it kid, the building was an apartment complex a few years ago, but Stark bought it out, the idea being you could work and live in the building. It only took a year's worth of renovations. "
"S-so. I'm in the right place," I heard my phone beep, signaling that I've just received a text. Didn't need to check it to know that it was Louise, telling me that it was safe for me to back off. "And by which I mean that as in the area… not this building."
The rest of my sentence was said in a rush like I was trying to win a contest for who can speak the fastest. It only added to my performance of being a meek, nervous foreigner not sure of where things were in the big American City… something that was only mildly true.
I wasn't sure where things were in the big American City.
"That's right," he nodded to me, his hand turning to the security guard, the guy the man had called Frank. "Why don't you show him out?"
The two of us, as in Frank and me, shared a brief glance, a period of time where I had dropped my meek act but only for a second. Something that the guard hadn't noticed, as far as I was aware.
"Sure, that would be nice," I replied, getting in there before the guard could either accept himself or deny the request. "And again, I'm sorry for bothering you guys."
"It's fine, sir," Frank replied, his thick New York accent nearly causing me to laugh out loud now that I'd noticed it. My mind almost brought up the phrase I'm walking here! because that was the kind of thing that I'd expect from that sort of tongue. "Just glad we could help."
(Jim O'Reilly)
The O'Reilly father hadn't wanted to get in involved with this sort of work. At least not when he started his criminal career two decades ago, as a young man looking to make a quick buck to help his ailing mother. Jim had stayed away from drugs, he'd stayed away from… the more mature enterprises and he never touched… whacking people.
But as he moved away from his prior connections, he moved away from belonging to the Kitchen Irish. Jim found that his morals were being tested in ways that not even the Mob had forced him. No one had said anything about prostitution yet… but now?
O'Reilly was about to engage in an act that almost hit the same cord inside him.
So with a heavy heart, he walked into a pub, one open even into the early hours of the morning. There weren't many people there, on the outside of the place, not yet but the Irish liked to operate from this place, so there were always at least some people there. Hiding in case some rival came in thinking that they could take on the Kitchen Irish.
But the former member knew that none of that mattered, it wouldn't make a difference for what he was about to do.
"Sean," Jim yelled out, his hands in his coat pocket as he approached his former boss or at least the man that he used to report to. O'Leary had been the guy that brought him into this life, not by threat but by a promise of a better life. "We need to talk."
There was dread in his voice, something that Jim couldn't hide no matter how much he tried.
Sean O'Leary was only a few years older than Jim but his hair had greyed much more thoroughly. Where O'Reily's red hair was freckled grey, the older man's was the inverse, with red flecking grey. On Sean's chin was a massive beard, oddly lacking any flecks of grey at all but Jim knew that his old friend liked to dye his beard.
The man only wore suits, the cheap kind that had patches at the elbows, the material that would never even bothering to match the color of the rest of his jacket. The browns and blacks clashing in a way that made O'Leary one of the more recognizable figures in Hell's Kitchen's crime scene.
"If it isn't Clean Jim!" O'Leary grinned, his blindingly white teeth contrasting against his dirty attire. "What are you doing back in these parts, thought you wanted out of the game?" he continued, referring to the excuse O'Reilly had used to get out of doing any more jobs for the Irish groups. "Don't tell me, you missed the life?"
Jim scoffed, shaking his head, absentmindedly thinking about how it was impossible to miss what he never lost.
"Something's come up," Jim explained, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as Sean waved him to follow into the back of the bar that he'd been sitting in. Back into an area that they wouldn't be overheard in.
"What's the issue?" Sean asked him, his tone light and rather casual. Normal for their interactions of the past, but it wouldn't be after today. While Jim would've loved to get into some light banter with the man, but when it came to things of this nature anytime to beat around the bush. He just wasn't that sort of guy. It would leave a bad taste in his mouth.
"You've gotten a hit put on you," It was such a cold sentence, something that caused Sean's ever-present smile to falter on his face. "Seems a certain up-and-comer doesn't like how you've been talking, afraid that your loose lips will bring him some unwanted attention."
O'Leary wasn't the highest of Made-Men with the Kitchen Irish but he was someone that they relied on for a lot of information. Who to bribe, who to stay away from, and even who were the players were
Sean didn't speak, he just turned his back to the younger man, his hands grabbing onto a set of glasses that were stacked next to two cans of beer. The only sound that was made was the crack of the cans as the elder mobster poured them into the glasses.
It was only after chugging down a full pint that Sean spoke once more, voice thick with a seething rage.
"Did he send you, laddie?" The glass cracked under the pressure of his hand, only enough for an audible creek to move through the air. "Send you to get rid of me? Before I can find out his name?"
"Why? You close?" Jim deflected, the hand in his pocket fingering the handle of a revolver. It wasn't like he wanted to use it, the father of one just needed to look out for his own. Sadly that meant doing jobs like this for beings like Wilson Fisk.
"You wouldn't be here if I wasn't, close." Over Sean's voice, Jim could hear the sound of the door creaking open behind him, telling the man that he had some company. But it didn't bother him, in fact, he'd been expecting it for some time. "You tell Fisk that we don't appreciate his like thinking that he can just walk in, take over our turf and make himself out to be some sort of boogie man."
O'Reilly should've been surprised that the other man had known he'd started to work for the new crime lord, but he couldn't really bring himself to be. O'Leary had ways of knowing things that you didn't want him to, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from him.
It was the sound of four footsteps that told O'Reilly just how many people were surrounding him at this very second. Without taking a second to think about it, Jim turned, angling himself so he could see both the two men who'd just arrived and Sean on the other side of him.
"Will I tell him that?" The former co-worker glared at the men to his side, causing all both Sean to flinch back in fear. "I'm here as a favor to you, Sean. Ain't no reason to be calling a bunch of no-name goons into our private talks."
"Why? Because Fisk won't like me spilling his name to everyone that wants to hear it!" O'Leary shoved his finger into Jim's chest, the sharp shape pressing against a bandage the man hid underneath his shirt. "Because you didn't think we'd find out that you spilled the beans on the dock job a few months ago!"
It started slowly, from deep inside his chest, something that Sean wouldn't have expected from the younger man, not with how the man had been holding himself over the years. But over the next few seconds, Jim O'Reilly started to laugh, it was a deep and energetic laugh that sounded more like it came from a clown than a career criminal.
A slap rang out in the room as flesh hit flesh, O'Leary's hand smacking into the redhead's nose with enough force that crimson started to spill out like a leak from a water tower.
"Don't think because we let you out that you can come in and disrespect me, laddie," Sean warned him, wiping the red from his own hand with a cloth that had been on the nearby counter. "I was making deals, killing folks, and running things around here before you were a sparkle in your pop's eye and don't think that wife or girl of ours are off-limits to my wrath, Laddie."
Jim spat out a wad of blood onto the floor, coating the ground in a thick glop of red. The sounds of cocking guns came from the two men on his sides, neither of which had spoken yet, only aiming right for the father of one's head with flat expressions
"I came here to give you a warning, maybe help you fake your death," O'Reilly said, his hands shaking as fury started to raise throughout his body. "I ain't no killer but I can't accept someone that would threaten my famil-"
"I was your family!" Sean interrupted him, slamming a fist down on the wooden counter with enough force that the glasses left there crashed to the ground. "I brought you into the life, I made you the man ye've become, and now you've made me a fool-"
Jim didn't let his old friend finish the sentence, instead, he just ducked beneath the guns and rolling into the men's feet, causing them to trip onto the ground in a hard crash. Before they could even attempt to rise to their feet once more, O'Reilly took out his revolver and shot two bullets into the back of their heads.
Killing them instantly.
But O'Leary was not a passive man, instead of cowering in the corner of the room he threw himself into a tackle, ramming into Jim's stomach with enough force that the gun was flung from his hand and their heads snapped against the tile floor. Sean managed to get to his knees, launching a fist out towards Jim's head.
He barely managed to move his head just slightly to the right, causing the punch to hit into the floor instead. The fingers snapped, Sean's mouth flung shut barely holding back the scream of pain that the older man let out before Jim's boot smashed into his chest and walked him away with all the force of a truck.
Sean's head snapped against the edge of the counter, the loud crack signaling the state his neck was left in.
The doors to the room were practically broken as a barrage of people started to barrel in, causing Jim to let out a large sigh as he stood to his feet once more, letting the four new men surround him in a semi-circle. Each one of them holding a weapon, some batts and some of them were holding pipes.
"Guys… didn't Sean teach ya?" he muttered, stepping forward just enough that his left foot was beside the leg of a nearby stool. Another stool within reach of his right foot. "Ya don't use pipes, we're a classier sort of operation."
None of the men spoke, some seemed to be surprised at the still body of Sean, who could do nothing but gurgle at the world around him.
As the first of these new attackers came towards Jim, the man kicked up the stool, catching it in one hand and banging it against the man's skull. The wood exploded around the room, causing splinters to fly outward, forcing the rest of the men to cover their eyes with their forearms.
Leaving them wide open for O'Reilly to swipe out the leg of the second, nick their baseball bat and ram that into the heads of the final two. Knocking them all out all in a single string of combat that belonged more in a video game than it did in reality.
"Sean," Jim's voice was much smaller now like he was suddenly feeling a great deal of pain. "This isn't what I wanted, but you've forced me down this path," Using a subdued pace, he picked up his revolver once more, making sure to pop a single cap into the foreheads of all the men here, leaving O'Leary for last. "I'm sorry that it's come to this."
"Such a waste."
(Louise)
You wouldn't be able to tell due to her size, but Louise was actually very good at sneaking around. It came from how much she liked to get out of the house to explore the neighborhood when she was young but her Pop had thought it was far too dangerous.
Which it would've been for any other girl, but the O'Reilly girl was far too much for any thug like that to handle. Even when she had been a small child.
The building was what she expected from an apartment complex turned science lab. It didn't have as many corridors as it would if it were designed as a lab complex first. The width of the halls though was obviously expanded at some point, to let lab equipment by without accidentally getting struck.
It was either a holiday season that plenty of the lab workers here shared… or it was because there was meant to be no active projects here at the moment. Something that the deserted state of the halls seemed to confirm to her.
A bit risky in security terms given the kind of information that would be on the computers but Louise was sure that anything dangerous would've bee wiped from their drives ages ago. At least that would be how her Pop would handle it. Personnel files, on the other hand, would still be accessible through a network.
Louise managed to get inside one of the computer rooms, no cameras in sight. while her eyes roamed the room the door behind her creaking as she found herself surrounded by a series of machines that were far more advanced than anything she'd ever seen before.
"Well isn't this… wizard" she muttered to keep her voice low, just in case there were any security sensors that get activated by sounds over a certain volume. Those sorts of things couldn't be too sensitive, if they were it would only pick up noise from the outside.
Would cause too many false alarms otherwise.
With a slow, deliberate set of steps, Louise sat down next to one of the many Stark computers. A grin on her face as she spotted the open USB ports that were on the device. Something that she expected and had come prepared for.
It took once click of the power button to turn the device on, another hand coming out to plug in a USB stick, an LED on the back flashing green as the computer booted up. It went against many people's perception of her, but Louise wasn't some kind of jock, just because she was big and jacked up.
That was something that Pops had insisted on, wanted to know that she could protect herself from any thug.
But she wasn't a computer expert either, this little device that she was using came from a contact her Pop had made… well, the guy's fifteen-year-old son. Kid was a hardcore hacker, no doubt soon to be arrested for hacking the CIA or the NSA before he's twenty-two.
All she had to get was to ask nicely. Miles was easy like that, only needed a smile and the guy folds like wet paper, though he wasn't to be trusted at all, He was a bit of a fleck. The device was a neat little thing for those without a genius-level intellect.
It would simply back through the password protection on the computer, giving her administrator access to all the functions, all the files that she'd need to figure what kind of person this Doctor was. As her eyes scanned through the display in front of her, Louise released something very quickly.
That for someone that told Pat she was studying dimensional fields and travel and other junk. The woman's actual main focus had been in robotics, mostly cybernetic interfaces but other areas were something that the Doc also excelled at. The spacial studies were but an afterthought, something she had read about but not researched directly…
… till the month of her leaving. Where she apparently wanted to force Stark to shift the nature of her research, away from cybernetic limbs for prosthetic purposes and toward technology that would be better suited towards dimensional and spatial manipulation.
"There's a shift that doesn't make sense?" Louise mused, twisting a lock of her red hair with her index finger. She copied over what little files she could, nothing that had any tech blueprints or even research notes but it did have her psych profile.
One from before she was hired and another from before she left. There wasn't any mention in the file that actually claimed Octavius had been fired, just that the Doc left their employ. But that was normal with big names like her, people didn't like to sully the reputation of such great people.
No, it was the difference between the first psych profile and the second that worried Louise, to say the least.
"Pat's gotta read this."
It was only the jangle of the door's handle that let the girl know that she needed to duck down to the ground, getting under the desk she was sitting by and allowing Lousie to duck in her legs so anyone peeking along the ground wouldn't spot them.
"Someone must've forgotten to turn off their computer?" Some male voice said, causing Louise grimace under the table. This was not something she'd actually planned for, the young girl had expected to get in and out of the room, hell even the building without nary a camera even spotting her.
But a guard coming in while she was at the computer? That was something that could force her to use rather noticeable force.
"Damn lab rats," the man growled, his footsteps clattering in the otherwise quiet room. There was a level of frustration that Louise remembered her Pops using once or twice, whenever he'd been in a particularly messy job. "Tink with such big IQ's they'd know to turn off da computers."
The guard seemed to have issues with the h's in his words, making think sound like tink.
The young girl could tell that the man was heavy, his steps echoed off the ground with so much force that the floor audibly creaked from his weight alone. It reminded Louise of that time she saw an albino step on a cat, something that killed the little thing with a wet crunch.
Louise was still very disturbed by that.
"Now, let see here," As his feet came into her view, the man spoke once more, acting casual enough that Louise knew for sure that he hadn't caught on to her hiding under the table. "Wha was the button-" His voice suddenly cut off, alerting her to his interest being raised by something.
Without waiting to see if he had sported a stray leg from under the table, Louise threw her body at the man's legs. Knocking him to the floor with enough force that it wasn't a surprise when he broke through the desk behind the one they were at.
Wood shattered into the air, falling down onto Louise's hair before she managed to rise back to her feet. The guard suddenly groaned rolling to his stomach so he could push himself up, not knocked out as she'd hoped but mildly dazed would at least let the girl try a follow-up attack to end things.
"Sorry," Louise mumbled, bring her hand down to a spot on between the man's neck and his shoulder and squeezing down. Instead of putting the man to sleep, it only caused him to scream out in pain. "Shit!"
"D-did you just try to-" before the guard could even finish his statement Louise brought her hand down hard on his head. A loud crack that rang out was followed by the man finally crumbling to the ground.
"Vulcan Nerve grip, yeah I did," Louise sheepishly grinned while shaking her right hand, the limb stinging from making contact with the now unconscious man's skull. "Thought it would work."
Now with a guard down, Louise knew that there wouldn't be much time till someone else came to check upon him. Deciding to hedge her bets, she grabbed the USB drive from the computer, nicked the man's security guard jacket, draped it around her head and hopped over his still body as one would garbage.
Sprinting forward, she went out the door, leaving the thing wide open as she made her way back to the window that had been her entrance point. The sounds of steps coming from around the corner caused her to stop dead in her tracks and throw herself into a nearby closet, letting the brush of a mop hit in the face.
Louise counted to ten, keeping her ear to the door so she could hear the sounds of the steps as they moved past her. When they stopped, slowly the girl opened the door, peeking out from behind the door, seeing that their backs were turned to her and slowly moving out.
Only to run into a man walking the opposite direction from her, knocking the O'Reilly girl to the ground.
"Sorry about that miss," The man spoke, his large hands help her back to her feet. "I should really be watching where I'm going… wait, you new-"
Louise kicked the man in the back of the leg, causing him to stumble, giving her time to snap her elbow right against the man's jaw, stopping him from shouting out in pain. opening the closet door and shoving him in so fast that by the time the man could even let out a groan the door was already shut.
It wasn't long before Louise was jumping out of the first story window, landing in full view of the camera the Stark building had pointed in that direction, something she had been careful enough to hide from the first time but now had caught her leaving. But even that she had accounted for, ducking her head down and throwing the security jacket over the lens.
It was only then that Louise made her way around the front of the building once more, peeking in and finding that was still talking to the guy manning the desk and a single security officer. His face was something that the O'Reilly girl found funny in particular because it looked as if Pat was surprised that he was able to keep making stuff up this fast and make it believable.
Guy should've been an actor rather than a reporter.
But Louise could tell that her friend wouldn't be able to keep that up for much longer, the red on his face was a sign that he was running on mental fumes.
"This looks like a job for me," she muttered, walking through the door with a smile on her face. It wasn't long before her hand was touching his elbow, causing him to jump in fright. "Bae, this is where you've been."
Louise had said this with a sweet, Texan accent that she learned from her brief summer spent there a few years ago. Pat's response was to turn to her, mouthing the words that she'd just said, focusing on the bae part of the sentence.
She tried to send a message with her eyes or at least mentally to him, kind of hoping that telepathy would be a power that he'd randomly get, just like that time he sneezed and turned his drink into an ice cube.
Pat hadn't even noticed and had gotten his tongue stuck on it, one of many reasons she was friends with this super-powered Irishman.
"Of course you'd sniff out the only science Lab this side of Manhattan," Louise teases, pinching his right bicep with two fingers but only lightly. Pinch too hard and she'd break her fingers. "I swear."
"Linda!" Pat responded, his face regaining some of its natural colors. "How did you know that I'd be here?"
And once more, Louise was impressed by his acting chops.
"Could smell the scent of Irish charm from a mile away, honey." She smiled, turning to face the two Stark Employees, both of him seemed to have rather short smiles on their faces. They believed their act. "Sorry, if he bothered you. He's so easily lost when he finds something he hadn't expected."
"No, I'm not," he responded, huffing visibly and turning his face away with a frown. It was such a good performance that Louise almost brought it.
"Bae, you've got lost just two weeks ago buying milk in a small convenience store because you were confused that they were selling tapes, made you think it was the wrong store."
Pat rolled his eyes, making sure that they all caught the movement before he finally gave his rebuttal with a smug grin.
"Who sells cassettes anymore, I don't know anybody with a VHS player-"
"You do, in fact, you've got two. One in a TV and one standalone," Louise interrupted him, a large playful smile on her face. She just couldn't stop herself from enjoying this little game, mostly because parts of it were true.
Pat really did have two VHS Players.
"I told you that's for data transfer material that isn't in print anymore," Pat whined, stomping his feet down to the floor. "I can hardly find another copy of the Power Ranger Movie, it's a dead IP."
That news had oddly upset Doyle a few weeks ago when he learned that the show had been canceled after the Movie. Disney apparently brought them out and they hadn't been interested in making anymore, just sitting on the rights, rerunning the show and selling the toys.
"But not a good one."
Before Louise could continue this charade, the two security guards from before ran into the lobby. One with their nose running red with blood, the other with their head as the point from which the blood was coming from.
"It's you!" The one with the bloody nose yelled pointing his finger at the two of them.
She could feel her heart leap into her chest, her mind turning blank as they glared at her, stepping forward with daggers in their eyes.
"Who?" Pat spoke up, stepping forward himself, his expression something that she'd expect from an upset child rather than an adult. "Me? I've been here the whole time."
"Not you, her!" The smaller of the newly arrived guards growled. "She snuck in here and attacked us."
"Linda just got here," The Irishman said in the same way that a child would when they're first told the truth about Santa. "And she came through the door behind us, I think you've got your story confused."
"Kid's right," The worker from behind the desk piped in. "She's just walked through the door. Unless she'd gotta teleporter in her coat pocket then I don't see how she got around here that fast."
"You even see the girl's face?" Asked the one guard who'd already been here when Louise arrived, his hands going into his pocket.
The two bloody Stark employees looked to each other, before the taller of the two, the one that Louise had shoved into the closet stepped ever closer to them, a grin on his face and his finger now high in the air. While it was always good to see someone come out of there, the O'Reilly girl really wished he'd waited just a few more minutes.
"No, but she was wearing the same clothes as your little girlfriend!"
Pat scoffed, throwing one of his arms over one of her shoulders and bringing her in for a hug.
"I got those clothes off a rack of a dozen of the same," he lied, raising an eyebrow and glancing over towards the two men he had been talking to earlier as if he was asking for help. "Are you saying that if I had been wearing them, you'd excuse me?"
The accusing guards seemed taken back by his rather heated tone, while the one closest to the front desk stepped between Pat and the other two.
"Look, guys how about we let these two go and we'll look over the security footage," He said, keeping his tone calm and his hands up. "I can vouch that these two had nothing to do with this."
"I'm tired." Pat suddenly spoke, leaning his head down onto her shoulder. Which was that far given how close in height the two were. "Can we go now."
Before Louise could even utter a word, the calm security guard spoke up once more.
"Of course, have a nice day kid."
With that Louise practically dragged Pat out of the building, a massive grin overtaking her face as they left sight of the building. But it didn't last for long, because soon she remembered that she had something that Pat needed to see in her back pocket.
Author's Note: Hello everybody! Not sure how long it's been since the last chapter but I hope the wait has been worth it! I'm excited to get this show on the world, and to comfortably bring my word count per chapter up, even it's only by a small amount.
I do enjoy writing chapters of this size, as much as I liked writing chapters of only 2k length. I've also gotten a new beta, who I can't recall if they wanted to remain nameless but that's fine, if they want to speak up they can. Anyway, a new beta, so I hope that this chapter looks better than the last did, I'll need to go over that one again before posting it to Fanfic.net.
In this chapter we continue the investigation, opening up several paths of investigation and even other mysteries to be solved... very obvious mysteries but mysteries none the less. Also the continuing adventures of JIM!
On an odd note, I keep labeling this chapter as 6? I don't know why it's only chapter five?