The fifteen-story fall was quick and Stone landed easily just around the corner from the main entrance.  He strolled into the lobby and moved to a small table in the foyer where a stand stuffed with various tourist attraction pamphlets gave him some cover from where he could casually watch the elevators.

Across the lobby, Edison and Vincent emerged from the stairwell. It's not easy to look casual after racing down fifteen flights of stairs, but they tried. Edison walked over to the sitting area, picked up a newspaper, and took a seat that faced the street. He only had to turn his head slightly to watch Stone.

There was a small gathering of people near the elevators, men in business suits milling about and looking at their agendas.  Slowly the mosied out into the main lobby, checking maps and watches to help plan their next move.  It wouldn't have taken the practiced eye of Stone or Palmer to identify the two men that seemed out of place.  They were impatient but stopped short of being rude as they worked their way through the crowd of loiterers.

One was a big man, thick and very well muscled.  He was wearing a black on black suit and his dark eyes slid across the room like a professional, calculating and taking in everything on his intended path.  The man with him was dressed similarly, the vibrant colors of a tattoo were showing near his neck and there was a faint scar running from his left ear to his chin.  The second man was swarthy and walked with a cocky air, completely content to let the larger man lead the way and account for any security risks.

The swarthy man headed right for Stone, paying him very little attention as he headed for the valet counter to get his car.  While the larger man, began heading towards the side entrance that led to a self park area.  His eyes settled on Palmer for a moment and swept over him carefully.  Then he gave the same attention to Vinny, but his pace remained calm and even as he continued on his course that would take him past them and out the side entrance.

Stone remained patient, recognizing the situation called for subtlety.  Starting a scene in a crowded hotel lobby wasn't exactly discrete.  If they were getting into a car, that might be better.  It would give him better options for handling them at the same time, eliminating many random chance elements.

As Stone watched, the man strutted up to the counter and slid the attendant his claim ticket.  The valet took it with a smile and moved to get his keys.  Without waiting, the thin guy headed outside through the main lobby doors, and began fishing around for his lighter.  It was obvious that he was going to enjoy a cigarette while they brought his car around.

Stone decided to seize the moment.  He took his smokes and lighter out of his coat pocket and wandered outside to stand casually near the man while placing a cigarette in his mouth.

Outside wasn't as busy as inside, but there were two valet attendants and some pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk, in front of the Stewart Regency Hotel.  A bus was pulling up to the hotel entrance from the street.  Stone lit his smoke and checked the man out in his peripherals.

Stone did a fairly decent body check on Ophilia's killer.  This guy had the same tattoo and scar.  No doubt, this was the guy.  Being this close to Phi's killer pumped more anger into his bloodstream than he was prepared to receive and certainly more than he expected.  Given his recent state of mind regarding his boss, he shouldn't have been surprised. 

It was an effort for the biker not to pound him into the sidewalk right there.  But he did his thing: he stayed cool.

He turned towards the man and asked, "Need a light?"

The man looked over at him, dismissively, without comment and then his body went rigid.  Stone's keen eye for body language told him immediately that the man recognized who he was and was scurrying to wrap his mind around the situation. 

Just as quickly as he had looked away he looked back and gave Stone a half smile, obviously he'd come to the conclusion that it was a coincidence.  After all, there was no way anyone could know what was going to go down, but still - his body was keyed for action.  "No.  S'okay." He said as he lit his own smoke.  "You look familiar.  Are you that Stone guy?  ...from the Conquistadors?"

"Mmmhmm," Stone hummed around his smoke with a nod.

As the man did his best to keep his cool, the bus in front of the hotel opened it's doors, and a group of high school girls began filing out.  Some of them were carrying duffel bags and equipment that made it fairly obvious that they were a softball team.  The first two off the bus, took an immediate interest in Stone and began talking quietly and giggling amongst themselves as they cast their gaze his way.

Stone turned away from the bus for a moment but he realized it was too late.  He'd hoped to take this guy quickly and quietly but if he was mobbed by these girls, these athletic, fit, young women with their taut bodies and their...  Stone shook his head once and refocused.  All he needed was to be mobbed by a crowd of fans and the jig was up. 

But then again, he thought. 

The biker leaned a little into his quarry to say, "Hey, check this out."  The man looked like he was ready to jump until Stone's conspiratorial tone gave him pause.

Catching the eyes of one of the girls, Stone gave a head nod and muttered, "'Sup?"

The girl turned to her friends and did the "oh my God" thing that high school girls do.  With a little prodding by the others she took a few steps towards the Conquistador.  Her friends followed closely behind until Stone had about ten or so girls in front of him.

"You're Stone, right?" the girl he'd made eye contact with asked.  "One of the Conquistadors?"

"Yup," Stone answered.  "See?"he turned a bit to show off his new patch job on the back of his leather jacket, the Conquistador Motorcycle Club patch with its winged crest and rose-laden ivy.  He designed it himself and it looked cool, and got the hoped-for response from the assembled young women.  They ate it up.

"Can I get your autograph?" one of them asked, followed quickly by murmurs of agreement and similar requests from the others.  The girl, her long strawberry blonde hair tied in a ponytail that came out the back of her cap, handed him a black marker.

"Uh, sure, sure...hey, any of you nice young women have a ball on you?  Anybody?"

There was a lot of quick rummaging through duffels but finally one girl tossed him a yellow softball. 

"Thanks," Stone said before making as though to sign the softball.  Before he touched pen to ball, however, he had a thought that might have been his best one of the day.

"Hey, you ladies wanna see something cool?"

There was a mixed chorus of "Oh, yeahs" and "yes!" and "wow" and so on.  Stone nodded and handed the pen off to one of the girls while tossing the ball into the air in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the assassin was eager to use the distraction as an opportunity to leave.  Quick to anticipate, the Conquistador stepped back a bit so that he was right next to the man he'd come back in time to deal with.

"Keep your eyes on the ball, everybody."  The crowd of softball players and even his anxious quarry looked expectantly down the street and back at the biker as Stone prepared to throw.

Stone drew a breath and let fly.  The ball sailed high into the afternoon sky.  Cries of amazement and surprise at how far and fast he threw it rose, turning into hoots and cheers from the athletes at the display of strength.  Even the smoking man's eyes followed the ball.  It was an impressive sight, after all, just as Stone had hoped.

And while all eyes were paying attention to the flight of a yellow softball down the street, Stone quickly turned, ducked, and grabbed the man, lifting him over one shoulder before flying upward as fast as he could go.

The man was easily outmatched by Stone's strength, but surprisingly didn't waste any of his breath trying to call for help.  Instead he groped for his concealed gun and was about ready to use it when he realized the height that separated him from the ground. "Take me back down or I will put a hole in one of those girl's head."  His voice was surprisingly even and calm as he brought his gun to point at one of the perky ladies below them.

Stone flopped the man over his shoulder forward but kept rising as quickly as his flight would take him to the top of the hotel.  In order for the mook to shoot down at the ground he'd have to try and reach behind himself and he'd be firing blind besides.  For good measure, Stone spun slowly around as he rose, keeping the mook's frame of reference shifting.

"Save it," he returned.  "We need to talk."

For a brief moment Stone felt the but of the gun against his neck, but once again when the man looked down he thought better of trying to shoot the man that was holding him.  Just a few seconds after they left the ground the two of them hovered above the roof.

Stone touched down and released the mook save for a hand which remained grasped around the man's lapel.  Realizing his gun hand was free the man raised it, pointing the barrel at Stone's face.

The biker nodded once and spoke in a stern, gravelly voice.  "Go on.  Get it out of your system."

A rapid series of shots rang out across the rooftops of Hudson City.  When it was over, Stone slowly raised his free hand to his face.  With deliberate care, never taking his angry eyes off those of his prisoner, he removed his sunglasses.  One lens had been shattered from the gunfire.

Stone sighed, and his jaw clenched.  "These were my favorite," he claimed stoically to the mook before tossing them down onto the rooftop.

"Give me that," he growled, snatching the gun from the man who was looking at Stone with a mixture of amazement and fear.  The biker raised the weapon as if to pistol-whip the man.  "Why I oughta..." 

Stone stayed his hand and instead tucked the gun into his belt.  Then he hurried the mook over to the other side of the building from where they arrived. 

"Don't make me drop you," he told the mook.  "I hate cleaning up the mess."

"Go ahead!"  The man spitted vehemently.  "I'm a dead man anyway."

"Well, not yet," Stone answered knowingly.

Grabbing the mook with both hands, he flipped over the side and let his flight stop their fall in time to settle onto the balcony of their suite.  The door was still slightly ajar from when he left earlier, and as he pulled the curtain aside to make his entrance he could hear a commotion at the front door.

As they passed through the door, Stone was sure to slam his new pal into the side of it face-first.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he lied, "After you."  The hard jolt had stunned the mook and dropped his resistance enough that Stone was able to grab the first thing he could find, in this case the power cord from a lamp, and bind the mook's hands behind his back before tossing him face-down onto the couch.

* * * * *

Edison could feel Vinny bristle as the large man gave him a once over, but to his relief the hot headed DiSantiago restrained himself.  It was clear that this wasn't the assassin that had gunned down Ophilia, the other one though, even from this distance held a definite similarity.  The guy passed without incident and began fishing in his pocket for his keys as he walked towards the door to the side parking lot.

Ed made an actual gulping noise, like a nervous cartoon character, when he saw Stone follow the shorter man out. But Vinny was already rising, and Ed fell in beside him to stalk the big Syndicate man to the side door. The observant goon must have spotted their reflection in the door. He stopped and turned, his hand reaching for something in his jacket.

Palmer went still and pushed. His tricks of mind over matter didn't amount to much, not next to what his teammates could do. But he could exert sufficient force to trip up a man in midstride. The big man tottered, and Vinny stepped forward. Then Ed pulled and the big man lumbered into Vinny. The DiSantiago jabbed the mook twice in the solar plexus, and the big man went down gasping.

Vinny stooped, and Ed moved to block the view from the lobby. With impressive dexterity, Vinny swiftly relieved the man of his gun and slipped it into his pocket. The man offered as much resistance as a fish drowning on dry land, but Vinny gave him a punch in the balls for good measure.

"Whoa, you OK?" Ed blared with exaggerated geniality. "That was quite a tumble. Let us help you up."

"You...fu-" the man wheezed, and his mouth abruptly snapped shut. His jaw twitched and he moaned inarticulately. Ed kneeled, got in the man's face, and smiled nastily. "You don't talk until we say so," the psychic murmured. "And if you don't cooperate, we'll take away other things." The big man blinked, confused...and found his eyes wouldn't open.

"You won't believe the things we'll do to you if you don't play nice," Ed whispered. The man groaned and Vinny paused in his step as he looked at Palmer with a new appreciation.

"Fucking metas."  Vinny cursed under his breath, as he and Ed took a shoulder each and hauled the confused Syndicate man up. The walk across the lobby seemed very long, and ringed by gawkers. Most of the faces in the lobby displayed amusement, concern or indifference; but a few looked suspicious as the duo half-dragged the bigger man across the floor.

"Why isn't there a wet floor sign over there?" Ed barked at the concierge. "This guy should sue you." He tilted his head towards the limp mook, as if the man had spoken. " Sure, we'll get some cold water on your face, look at that cut, you'll be fine." The concierge looked defensive, shared an unhappy look with the desk clerk.

While the staff dithered and one of them picked up the telephone, Vinny and Ed maneuvered the big man towards the bathroom, then veered into the first open elevator. After the doors closed, Vinny casually gave their prisoner another punch in the stomach. Then he gave Palmer a curious look.

"What did you do back there?"

"Improvised," Ed replied.

The large man groaned again under Vinny's attention, his eyes and mouth still tightly shut, compliments of Palmer.  It was easy to tell that the large man could easily take them both, but Edison's powers were leveling the playing field.

They made it back to Vinny's suite, but not without rising the suspicion of a few patrons.  Particularly the ones on the 11th floor when Edison politely told them that the elevator was having difficulties. 

By the time the two of them had the large man in the room, he was growing harder to contain, and managed to head butt Vinny hard as they were making their way into the room.  He was still blinded and mute thanks to Edison, but he was big and powerful and growing more difficult to manage by the minute.

Vinny yelped in pain and reflexively kicked out, nicking the larger man, but doing nothing to stall him.  The guy was obviously scared by what was happening and began clawing at his face trying to force his eyes open.  All the while the mook was trying to move, using the wall at his back as a guide and occasionally swiping out with one hand to make sure that neither of his attackers were upon him again.

"Real amateur night, guys."  Stone had come up behind Vinny who jumped at the biker's voice suddenly sounding behind him.  "Go watch the other one," he told Vinny with a jerk of head back towards the living space.

Stone palmed the larger man's head and drove it backwards into the wall where it made a head-sized hole in the drywall.  Then he grabbed the man's hand in his, tucking the giant's thumb against the palm of his hand and squeezing.  With a reaction of surprisingly intense pain, the big man dropped quickly to one knee.  His free hand waved up and down in a silent plea to stop.

"Tuck the thumb and squeeze," Stone explained to Edison, showing how he held the other man's hand in his.  "Even the biggest guys will drop like a stone."

"Like this?" Palmer said, grabbing the mook's free hand and squeezing hard. 

By now the large, mute man was begging imploringly for relief.  Stone lightly smacked him on the head.

"Hey, tough guy, you gonna behave?" 

The man's head nodded enthusiastically and Stone released his hold.  The man immediately shook his hand and grabbed it protectively.  Stone hauled him to his feet with one hand and led him by the upper arm over to the couch with his friend.  Once he was seated there the biker grabbed his radio out of his pocket.

Vinny watched the scene with a sadistic enjoyment.  He held his nose closed with two fingers and used a towel to keep the blood from ruining his crisp white shirt.

"Easy Rider reporting the score is two-nothing us.  We're gonna watch some TV and wait for you catch up.  Out."

Palmer pulled up a chair to watch the prisoners. Both the men remained quietly subdued on the couch, the looks on their faces were dark and set with determination.

A soft click at the door preceded the entry of Nemesis, Danny and Sebastian.  They looked well and intact and Nemesis was carrying a briefcase that none of them had seen before.

Sebastián watched the two men carefully, trying to discern which of the two would be easier to break. Information was needed, and anything he could find out to make prying that information free would be a good thing.  He could pick up on some distress coming from the larger man, but what he'd seen from his power earlier provided much more insight into these men. 

There had been something about them, he remembered, something beyond them being professionals.  There was the way they had seemed so invested in the video as it downloaded, and the shared looks of understanding and mutual respect.  These men had known each other for some time, he suspected.  He also suspected that the men were more akin to zealots or suicide bombers, dedicated to a cause that ran deeper than money.  What that cause was, he couldn't be sure, but he'd bet his career that these men would kill themselves before speaking if they had the opportunity.  Whether or not they could stand torture, that he couldn't be sure of, nor did he know if any of his teammates would consider it as an option.

As Danny's gaze fell upon the men on the couch, his face broke into a grin. He strode briskly across the room and plunked down onto the couch between the two men, putting an arm around each. "Oh hey! Yer the one that wants ta shoot my cousin," he said in a bright and friendly tone to the smaller man, giving him an extra squeeze around the shoulder.  "And yer the one that shot the maid!" He sounded like he was greeting mates after not seeing them for weeks. "I'm so glad we get ta spend some time together! Oh...!" he said, fishing around in a pocket. "Ya left these. I thought i'd return em." Three slugs fell with a clatter onto the coffee table before the men. "Ya should investigate gettin a refund." 

Unlike Danny, Nemesis wasn't so quick to slip into jovial banter. The welling of emotion he felt at seeing the man who'd shot Ophilia made him want to beat the man near to death, then toss him out a window. The hand gripping the case tightened and he focused on his breathing until he knew he could speak without coming unglued.

"Vinny, there was a security guard asking around in the hall," he said without preamble. "Nothing specific, just checking up on things. Can you make a call to the lobby, get more towels or something, and try and find out what they know? If it's about us, try and put some minds at ease."

"Sure thing Boss.  ...that's probably about this big guy."  Vinny poked a finger towards the larger of the two captives.  "He was an awful big fish to sneak up here.  There was a couple that saw us on the elevator and I bet she said something to the front desk."  He wiped off his nose one last time and headed for the door.

"Your day," Nemesis said to the shooter, "Is not going to go well." He stepped into the room and set the case down on the table. "Not well at all." He nodded at Stone, an acknowledgment.  The biker nodded back, handed Nemesis a pair of cell phones, a pocket knife, and a wallet he'd taken from the smaller of the two men, and moved off towards the bar.

"We have your case," Nemesis continued aloud, his attention back on the shooter. "We have your plan, and now we have you. Now would be a good time for us to become friends."

"Fuck you."  The swarthy man watched Nemesis with mixed interest and he was the one that spoke - the large man still sat with his eyes closed, inexplicably muted.  "You've got nothing.  Best case, conspiracy to commit.  And the fact is, doesn't matter how today goes..."  He gave a wry smile.  "We're all dead men."

"Oh now, don't be that way," Danny said, arms still draped companionably around the shoulders of the two would-be assassins. "We're just now startin ta get ta know one another after all." He leaned over and gave the smaller of the men a peck on the cheek, then gave him an extra squeeze around the shoulder, plunking his feet on the table with a thump that caused the misshapen metal slugs to jump just a bit. He grinned around the room, his eyebrows raising as he saw the head-shaped indention in the wall. "That's gonna come outta someone's deposit, I'm sure." 

"They'll get over it," Stone replied.  He'd returned from the bar with two rocks glasses, each with a couple fingers of Jameson's.  He offered them to the men on the couch.

Danny looked at the glasses and pulled a face. "See how it is lads?" His voice dripped wounded misery. "Sure and he brings some for you, but not his long-suffering and recently shot," and here he looked at Palmer and added slowly "three.. times..." as he got up off the couch "...mate. It makes ya want ta question how he was raised." He moved cheerily over to the bar and set out more glasses, enough for everyone else in the room, and began to pour.

As Danny made his way to the bar, the swarthy guy nodded to his bound hands.  After Stone readjusted the cord and tied his hands in front, the man took the proffered glass and threw it back.  If he was going to die today, which he was certain now that he was, some whiskey in his gut would only make it easier.

The other man remained in a silent battle of will and sanity on the couch, not seeing or responding to Stone's offer.  Nobody could know the out of control feeling that he was experiencing.  Neither his eyes nor his mouth would respond to his commands.  A blindfold and duct tape would have been a vacation compared to this complete and utter feeling of terror as his body controlled him.  He continued to strain against the muscles on his eye lids and mouth, insisting that they open, but his attempts were futile.

Watching Danny's interaction with the two men, Sebastián shook his head almost imperceptibly, before walking over to Nemesis. He gestured to the newer of the phones in his hand, and asked "Can I see that one for a moment? The last incoming call on the older one is from the person who sent them the suitcase."

Nemesis handed the case over without comment. His attention was fully on the two bound men, his expression alternating between barely-repressed anger and mild curiosity over the state of the near-catatonic man.

Taking the phone, Sebastián flipped it over and opened it up, retrieving the SD card he'd seen them create on the laptop.  Knowing the small screen of the phone likely wouldn't do it justice, he held it out to Nemesis. "I think you all should watch this.  It's what was on the laptop before they fried it."

It was easy to tell that, for the moment, Nemesis was too intent on the hostages to take the time for the movie, right now.  He gave a slight nod towards the television.  "Set it up."

? -- Bastian

Four rock glasses sat invitingly on the edge of the bar, as Danny watched the others deal with the men on the couch.  As he watched the larger man began pulling on his cheek, in a peculiar display.  The pinks of his inner lids showed through in a creepy display as he continued his silent struggle.

Noting the odd facial contortions of the man who'd shot him, Danny piped up from behind the bar. "So what's tha deal with him?" He gestured with the whiskey bottle towards the larger of the killers. "Looks like he's about ta have a seizure or sumthin..." 

"I'm a little curious about that, myself," Nemesis admitted. "He's no good to us if he's unresponsive."

"I told him," Palmer said, "that he couldn't have his eyes or voice if he didn't cooperate." The psychic spoke casually, but there was something unsettling about his calmness. "I guess he's still thinking it over," Palmer continued. "Hope he decides before it becomes permanent."

A small moan of anguish escaped the mans sealed lips, and he slid his hands from his cheek to his mouth.  As the others watched he tried to physically pull his lower lips and jaw away from his upper lip.  He was making some headway but was still too distressed and frantic to plea for help.

Danny looked at Palmer in a strange way, then took a sip from one of the glasses laid out before him. 'Yer creepy," he said with what sounded oddly like appreciation. "Really, really creepy." 

"I see you got better," Palmer deadpanned.

"Enough!" Nemesis took a slow, deep breath to rein himself in. "Look," he began again, noticeably calmer. "The guy can pull his damn face off, for all I care. All I need to know is if he has any information we might find useful before we go." He turned his attention to the second man again.

"You seem to be under the impression we're playing by someone's rules. We're not. No one knows we're here. We all have alibis for this exact moment in time, so we can do whatever we want and get away with it." He stepped forward, looming over the man. "You starting to get the idea here? You're expendable. To me and to whomever you work for. If you plan on having dinner tonight, though, you had best come up with a damn fine way of getting on my good side or so help me God I"ll leave you in the capable hands of whichever of my friends comes up with the most sadistic manner of your demise. Talk and live or stay tough and take your chances. Your call."

The swarthy man cowed under Nemesis' unrelenting presence and the fact that he did made him pale with self loathing.  He was prepared to die today and here he was seriously considering an offer.  In the end he shook his head and looked stubbornly out the window.  "What you don't understand, is that I'm already a dead man.  Speaking to you will just make it worse.  Cuz she'll know."

"You play this right and she'll have to deal with us instead of you." Nemesis didn't want to lose what momentum he'd started. He toned down the anger a little and tried to sound convincing. "We have a lot of intel already, so you're likely in the shitter as it is. I know you think you're caught between a rock and a hard place. That's probably because you are. But here's where you see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have some issues with the Syndicate that I intend to address very very soon, but I don't need the little guys. What I need are the people putting this together. You're halfway there already, brother--you might as well go all the way. Talk now, run later while they're--while she's busy." He stopped for a moment, then asked almost conversationally, "What's her name, and how is she involved in all this?"

"I don't know."  The man's voice was sober and even, as he continued to look out the window.  "I really don't.  We kind of call her the Extractor, I mean... the guys do.  We're just foot soldiers, we don't know any more than we need to know.  The fear of her is one of the things that keep us focused, and know that we'll be on the winning side of this when it's all over.  Dead or alive, chaos will reign and we will be a part of that victory."

Danny laughed, shaking his head. He was moving the three full and one empty glasses around on the surface of the bar like a man playing the shell game, his movements fluid and graceful. "Oh sure. Chaos will reign and somehow that's winnin." He glanced up at the assassin, his hands continuing to weave the glasses around each other. "Do ya even know what yer sayin? Chaos means no order, and that means nobody's in charge of anythin. Which kind of leaves you in a worse off place than ya are right now, by definition." 

"There's a plan.  They're going to win, there's no way to stop it.  My participation in it, will ensure the safety of those that are mine."  His cold brown eyes turned to consider Danny, disdain evident in his features.  "Don't waste your breath trying to get it out of me.  I only know what I need to know, and that isn't much.  So, if you supposed heroes are going to throw me out the window or something, go ahead and get on with it."

There was a look of resolve in his heavy dark eyes.  He wasn't being cocky, not really, his words might have seemed big and full of bluff, but he meant them.

"So it's not about chaos at all then," Danny said, morning sunlight reflecting off the heavy glass of the tumblers as they moved. "It's about a plan." He placed a heavier emphasis on the last word, and slammed one of the glasses down hard upon the bartop, the crack of the base hitting the wood loud in the room, like a shot. "Well, you may not know much mate, but we need ya ta tell us what ya do know." He leaned on his elbows over the now motionless tumblers, studying the face of the assassin carefully. "Or not. Yer goin ta the tanty either way. Like ya said, we're heroes. We don't throw people out of windows." He shrugged. "And we don't control what happens ta expendable members of chaotic organizations in the tanty either. But we can try and make sure that things go better if ya cooperate."

The mook shook his head again.  It was evident that he felt the fact that Nemesis and Stone towered above him.  Danny in the distance with his nonchalant attitude, and most unsettling of all was whatever silent force had struck the larger man to his left who was clawing at his mouth.  He couldn't see Edison and Sebastian, but knew that there were two or three others in the room.  His adams apple bobbed painfully in his throat as he weighed his options, looking longingly towards the balcony window, knowing there was no way in hell that he could get past the two intimidating heroes to just end his misery.

Finally he spoke again.  "My part in this was to assassinate a target.  I didn't know who my mark was until a few minutes ago.  That's all I know.  ...today is big.  Today was to be the first strike."  Here he turned his attention back to Nemesis and his questions about the woman.  "The woman, the Extractor, I've never met her.  I've seen her, I think.  She takes care of the interrogations, and from what I hear she's good, scary good.  Some say she has mental powers and can take what she wants."

Just as he finished speaking, Vinny burst through the hotel door, his face creased with worry.

Leaned up against the bar by Danny, Stone paused in the act of lighting a cigarette.  He sighed and shook hid head. 

"Panic monkey," he mumbled around the smoke before turning his attention back to it and lighting it.

Nemesis scowled at Vinny before turning back to the assassin. "How do you contact her? Or does she contact you?"

"Boss, I can't stall 'em."  Vinny interrupted him despite the vigilante's formidable stare.  "I talked to one of my girls here.  They're doing a room by room search.  They got a report that someone was being held against their will.  I'd say you have about five minutes tops before they're here."

A glimmer of hope flitted across the tattooed man's face, but he didn't dare chime in with the smart ass retort that was bouncing around in his head.

Nemesis leaned close to the assassin, not even acknowledging Vinny. "I asked you a question."

"I don't know!"  The man said as the faint glimmer of light extinguished in his eyes.  "She contacts people that contact people that contact us.  She's one of them, and she's overseeing something else today.  She has nothing to do with our marks."

Nemesis held his stance for a long heartbeat before straightening, then suddenly swung, his fist connecting with the man's jaw. The man's head swung back severely and then bobbed forward from the impact.  Blood filled his mouth and began dripping down his cheek and chin, as his eyes glazed over and a groan of pain escaped him. 

Danny moved towards the two men, his expression wary. He stopped when he saw Nemesis wasn't going to turn one punch into a beat down.

The guy shook it off and worked a tooth that Nemesis had busted away from the back of his tongue, almost gagging with the effort.  He finally spat it out with a mouth full of his blood in the vigilantes direction.

"That's for what you almost did," Nemesis said, affecting casual interest in his gloves. "No matter how today ends, if I ever find you in my city again you're a dead man." His eyes flicked up to meet the assassin's. "Understand?"

The man choked on the blood as he tried to swallow it down and made no attempt to meet the vigilante's eyes.

As Nemesis was talking with the mooks, Sebastian had set up the television with the data card.  It was easy to find the slot in the high end plasma television, but it took a few moments to find the right remote to cycle through the inputs. 

The memory card contained a few different files.  The video clip loaded first, chillingly familiar to Bastian.  It began with Pops bar, several images both ariel and street-side, in succession.  Then a few pictures of a nondescript residence on several different occasions -- Nemesis recognized it as Pop's home.  None of them featured the masked superhero, although Luke could be seen in the periphery, working in the bar (not the apparent subject of the image).  A time stamp of 18:00:00 accompanied these images.  This was followed by a grainy surveillance video feed of the Justice Building from across the street, zooming quickly to a specific office with a window.  Within, and working, was Kate Southerland, ID'd and accompanied by a still photo of her.  A brief overhead schematic of the building at several layers quickly flashed by.  Then another schematic, obviously of an explosive device, entitled Beta, along with a time-stamp of 22:30:00.  Finally, a picture of the art gallery, a banner displaying the DiSantiago bachelor auction event, a running list of guests which scrolled too fast, and several photographs of Nemesis in costume.

All of it flashed by in less than two minutes, almost too fast to be particularly useful by itself.  The rest of the card, however, contained the floorplans, schematics, profiles, and images of the targets.  All of it pointed to three specific events centered around Pops at his home, the assistant DA at the Justice Building, and Nemesis at the auction.

"All right," Nemesis said, addressing the others. "We leave these two to the cops, along with the evidence. We need to stop the bombs from going off. That means one after the other or we split up. Thoughts?"

"I've got a fucking thought for you!"  Vinny said irritably.  "I think we should get the hell out of here before it's too late."

Stone quickly took the smoke out of his mouth and said, "Hey," as sternly as he could muster towards Vinnie. He paused, letting his look convey his annoyance.  The DiSantiago raised his hands in mock surrender, before Stone returned his attention to Nemesis.

"We split up," Stone offered to the masked vigilante.  "If we move in force on one and word gets out we could lose the other."

Palmer scowled and rubbed his temple. He was feeling the strain from the number he was working on the big mook. "Walk and talk," he suggested.

"I've got a ride waiting, downstairs.  And a driver."  Vinny offered.  "It's a bit of an overkill but it's all I could get on short notice."

Danny nodded agreement as he sat back down between the two men on the couch, laying a hand on each. "Yeah. Best we take care of both quick-like." Smoke roiled from both Danny's hands, the damage to the man Nemesis had popped repairing itself. "Can't be havin anyone sayin we used excessive force now, can we?" he said conversationally, standing back up. "Oh," he added. "I just marked the pair or ya. No matter where ya go, no matter how hard ya try and hide, I'll find ya." He grinned and headed back towards the bar, hands in pockets. "Should ya decide ta not wait for the law, o course. If yre good boys and sit here and wait, ya don't have a worry in the world."

Neither of the men said anything.  Ophilia's assassin worked his jaw back and forth, testing the repair.  The big mook's eyes and mouth popped open, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

ooc:  Feel free to continue if you'd like.  ...but unless there are any objections I'll start the next part of the scene in the hotel lobby or some such.  The ride is a stretch limo with driver, compliments of the hotel and he's waiting at the front entrance.