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Post by Rift on Feb 26, 2016 18:52:56 GMT -7
U.S.Agent had taken off at a sprint, ignoring his injuries as best he could, no easy feat considering the extent of them. By some miracle, his earpiece had survived what his head had been unable to, albeit in less than tiptop condition. The static that bled through was new, but not unexpected. “U.S.Agent to command, do you read me?” he asked. “Affirmative… Agent. What the hell… happened? You went silent for a while.” “An encounter with the vigilante Daredevil. He was after Nuke too.”“Was?”“Had to put him down. Hard,” he responded. “Should send a bus around for him when there is time, but in the meantime I need any fresh info on Nuke. Simpson’s safehouse was a bust, the only ones there were operatives of another agency. Seems everyone wants our boy.”“He…is a…high value target. Any number of…agencies and organization, foreign and domestic, would love to acquire him,” they responded. “We’ve reason to believe there may be a secondary safehouse, but we lack specifics as to an address. Somewhere in…”
The signal devolved into white noise before Agent could get the location. Not that it would have mattered. It wasn’t like he could beat down every door on a block anyway. This whole mission has been more complicated than expected. I knew Val was underestimating the difficulty when she called it routine, but this is beyond frustrating!
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Post by Deleted on Feb 26, 2016 19:00:28 GMT -7
Simpson felt refreshed, well fed, and clean for the first time in weeks. For once, he was going to treat himself. He found a couple thousand dollars cash in the safehouse lockbox, why not a treat? A bar perhaps, what was local? Ah doesn't matter, he'd find one. Having made sure the entire area was secure, he stepped out of the building and into the heart of New York City. Heck it was just a step over to Times Square, that sounded like a good idea. He hailed for a Taxi. The cabbie just pulled up when he saw a shadow lurking from the rooftops. The city had no shortage of masks, granted, but this one seemed familiar. He got a closer look. He saw a shield. f**k**g Captain America!? No way, not happening. After quickly swallowing a red pill, he grabbed the taxi cab by the roof of the car and with scary strength, hurled the vehicle straight at Cap's head! Four stories be damned, that bastard was going under, now! He was not going back to SHIELD!
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Post by Rift on Feb 26, 2016 19:35:31 GMT -7
U.S.Agent was frustrated beyond belief and was tempted to crush his malfunctioning earpiece when he heard something. At the last moment he saw it. A car was being tossed at him all the way from street level, something he’d seen on television during one of Banner’s rampages. He saw the terrified face of the driver as it rushed down at him, threatening to smash him flat. Times like these he wished he had powers beyond what he possessed. If he had the agility of Spider-Man or the speed of Quicksilver he may have been able to save the cabbie, leaping through the window and getting both of them free of the weaponized vehicle. Unfortunately, he didn’t have those abilities and there was nothing he could do to save the man. Instead he ran, leapt from the rooftop, and swore bloody vengeance on whoever had just killed that innocent driver. He fell as rubble from the building and debris from the car rained down around him. He used his shield to absorb the impact of the fall and rolled on the street, his shoulder and head screaming in response. As he stood he squinted through stars and saw a figure in the distance, a mountain of a man with the American Flag tattooed on his face. Nuke! He thought. Standing he sprinted straight for the man across the street, snarling as he did. He had found his target. “Simpson!” he shouted, drawing his gun and firing. They wouldn’t stop him, but maybe the rounds would make his stop and reconsider his life’s choices.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2016 15:13:53 GMT -7
Matt made it to his apartment within ten minutes after doubling back to shake off authorities and onlookers. He tore off the damaged armored suit with a bit of difficulty, trying not to allow the wounds he did sustain get any deeper. After tearing off the jerkin, he found his way into his bathroom and his medicine cabinet. No time for stitches, which at best he only needed four or five he admitted. Adhesive would have to do until then. He pulled open the first aid kid, his body still shaking off the stiffness from being laid out in the alleyway. Ignore it. He grabbed the iodine and slapped it on his skin, gritting his teeth as hard as he could. No matter how many times he's had to use it over the years, it still hurt like a m*th*rf**k*r, especially to a man like him. It never got easier, nothing ever did. He glued the wound shut and then found medical tape and began a hasty bandage, going until the wound was taught but he could still move freely. He then left the bathroom and went into a cabinet he kept near his couch. In it was an emergency encrypted lock chip in case he truly needed her. He had her two inches from his face two months ago, and how he would kill to have that now. He dug out a tablet and inserted the drive. He hated touch screens, so he better pray the chip opened the hardline. After a few beeps, it asked for a voice encrypted password. Matt sighed a moment. "Matt Murdock never asks for help," he said simply, and then the voice imprint gave him an access granted and transmission. He held the tablet up at arm's length. "Natasha. You said to use this if I needed help and I never need help. But now I do: Nuke is on the loose again in New York and the US Agent and whichever agency he's working for is after him. Is it SHIELD? Something tells me this isn't your doing otherwise I'd be in a cell on the hellicarrier and not back at my apartment. Agent escaped and now we have two homicidal maniacs in New York wearing the American Flag. I can't believe I am asking this, but I need the Avengers, SHIELD, anybody to help. I have to get back out there, try and stop them, but in case I don't make it, please Natasha, I... I'm sorry," he finished, unplugging the chip and the cutting the signal just before it was traceable. Natasha knew exactly where he was, but SHIELD didn't, and shouldn't. He got to his feet and headed for his closet, pulling off one of the boxes stacked in the corner: A fresh Daredevil costume. After stripping off the pants of the old suit, he replaced them with the new leggings, then the boots, then the jerkin, then the collar, the gloves, and then finally the helmet. Picking up fresh Billy Clubs he practiced the tension and spun them, tested the nunchaku, bo, and grapple extensions before sheathing them and leaping up to the rooftops and back into the streets again as Daredevil, the Man Without Fear.
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Post by Rift on Feb 27, 2016 17:54:03 GMT -7
“You are one sick puppy Simpson, but this is where you get put down.”Nuke, eyes wild, was practically foaming at the mouth. “Bring it on Captain. I ain't going back, I won't be no POW! Not again!” With his eye swelling and the helmet broken from his previous battle with Daredevil, U.S.Agent found the headgear to be a hindrance and deposited it in the street. Besides, he wasn't like Daredevil or Nuke, he had nothing to hide. The psychopath hadn't even given that poor cabbie a second's glance when he signed his death warrant, but John Walker wanted the bastard to look him in the eye, to see the face of the man ready to bring him to justice. Unfortunately for Simpson he had already been in a sour mood before he was witness to his murderous ways. Now? Well, now he was going to get the beating he had coming to him. “Two problems with that stance. First, you think you have a choice and second? I am not Captain America. Rogers would kick your teeth in and then argue with the Feds that you have rights. Me? I'm just going to kick your whack-job backside up and down the street before dropping you in a hole that even Fury couldn't find.”Holstering his sidearm and making a show of it John pointed at Simpson. “There. I even made it fair for you. Now, you going to keep flapping your lip or are we going to get to this?”The battle was short, but brutal. U.S.Agent found Frank's strength to be on par with his own, possibly greater. A right hook across the jaw cost him a pair of teeth and split his lip. When Nuke went for a knife, Agent had retrieved his shield, blocked the knife, and jabbed the shield in Nuke's throat directly in the Adam's Apple. Back and forth they went, synth skin tearing from Nuke's face revealing the metal beneath, Agent's collarbone fracturing. As they battled on however it seemed that U.S.Agent was gaining the upper hand. Deploying the spikes on the shield once more he'd lodged it in Simpson's left hamstring, dropping him to his knees. As John leapt into the air, coming down with both hands clasped, intent on putting his enemy down with a powerful strike. At the last minute however Nuke tore the shield free of his leg and used it to hit Agent midair. Stars dancing before his eyes U.S.Agent regained his feet. One of his unbroken ribs had followed the example set by the others only not wanting to be outdone, it bent upwards, piercing a lung. Breathing as best he could and struggling to remain upright he saw Simpson darting away. Retrieving his shield he gave chase, ignoring the agony his body was in. Stopping around a corner a block away he watched as Nuke entered what had to be another safehouse, the one they had been looking for. If the son of a bitch had just stayed in doors in the first place I'd of never found him, he thought angrily. Energy fading fast he placed his shield in front of him and ran, barreling through the entrance and into the hallway beyond. Instantly he found himself taking fire. BASTARD! He rigged the hallway with a damned machine gun!Hugging a door frame and keeping his shield at the ready to deflect the rounds that made it through, John hoped he could remain conscious long enough to get past the booby traps and to the crazed Simpson. Beaten to hell and back or not, he still had a mission and he intended to finish it if it was the last thing he did.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2016 11:31:34 GMT -7
He had left Hell's Kitchen a few buildings ago and was now into Little Germany. This is bad. He was hoping to contain it to his turf, but that didn't happen. He crossed over into Little Germany. Luckily the smell of adamantium, steel, and dollar store shaving cream left an easy trail to track. He must've done quite a number on the Agent, because the blood overpowered the rest. Good. He heard gunfire. Automatic. Lovely. He pivoted on the spot and cartwheeled down firing his grapple cable to the building opposite and sensed it: An entire room reeking of cordite and gasoline. Bomb. It was there he also picked up the ringing of the adamantium/vibranium cocktail that was the US Agent's shield. He was in trouble and Nuke was too far out of his range. Fine, he admitted, though reluctantly to himself. The man was simply following orders, but that didn't mean he had to like what he was doing. Daredevil anchored his point and then lined his way towards the window where he spotted US Agent in. Luckily the corridor was narrow, though if he missed his timing, he'd be swiss cheese, even with the new suit. He felt his heart beat heavily in his ears. Thumpthumpthumpthump.And then a whine. Stillness. Within that stillness, his body grabbed the very heavy US Agent out of the line of fire and lined him back down to the street opposite, his muscles began to strain about halfway through. He considered dropping the bastard, but in his condition, he doubted he would survive even a simple four story drop. Well, simple for people of his caliber at least. Once they landed, before the Agent could protest, he placed a finger to his lips and then pointed. BOOM!
Within a second, the safehouse was engulfed in flames. Fortunately this was one of the Old New York buildings with a foundation of steel and concrete, so the only place that would burn largely was the interior of the room itself, or, at least the amount that survived the shrapnel chunks exploding. He heard the sirens, assuming they had been already en route, and guessed they were about a minute out. "Time to go," barked Daredevil, and picked the Agent up and hauled him into a nearby alleyway, pinning him into a wall. After propping him up, he gave Agent a quick cross right in the jaw. "That was for earlier," he muttered, letting the Agent slump on the wall while he began to stretch his radar sense to track Nuke's signature, which was a whirring of gears, metal, and the huffing of a man whose breath was rather short, probably from the red pills he had taken.
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Post by Rift on Feb 29, 2016 13:52:54 GMT -7
U.S.Agent came to some time later. At first he wasn’t sure if it had been moments or hours, but the pain was intense. In a way it was reassuring. Sure it was intense and yes he was in agony, but the fact that he could feel it meant he was still alive, something he knew in his gut was a condition he was very close to having been relieved of. More than that though, more than the pain, was the fleeting memory he had moments before he had ended up slumped against a wall. Daredevil. The bastard vigilante wasn’t dead. Considering he wasn’t a villain per say, more misguided he wasn’t sad about that and since he had showed up last minute like some kind of knight is tacky armor, plucking him from the hall before he rode off into the sunset one last time, he was grateful. Still, the bastard had impeded his mission, saw to it he was in bad shape before he ever found Nuke, and then, despite his winning their first go around, he prances in to save him from a situation he’d of never been in if the devil had just listened to him in the first damn place. Almost makes me miss Punisher, he thought. [Sure the team up with Castle had been rough considering his orders to bring him in, and yeah the Commission had ripped him a pair of new ones for not doing it in favor of saving lives and stopping criminals, but at least Frank knew what was important. That was when he looked upwards and saw Daredevil still standing there. “Bastard…” he muttered. “You have any idea what you’ve done?”Sure it sounded ungrateful, but he was seeing red. “Your interference has turned the whole mission FUBAR! So what do you plan to do now, huh hotshot? Nuke’s building is all over the place, Simpson is in the wind again, and you are standing here like you actually accomplished something!”
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 14:07:29 GMT -7
Daredevil turned around and within seconds had the Agent pinned up against the alley wall, club choking the shit out of him, his voice sounding like he had gargled glass. "Let's get a few things straight, Rambo. First, you weren't beaten by Simpson physically: he outsmarted you. If a man can do that to you, did you really think a few extra bullets would have made a difference? Second, that was also the second time today you were beaten to a pulp by somebody whom you deemed beneath your boots. And yet here we are. Third, I'm not the one bleeding to death on somebody else's nice clean suit while his actions have turned an otherwise untouched section of New York into a goddamn crater! And finally, Simpson's hurt. He doesn't look it, I'm sure, but I can sense he wasn't at a hundred percent if the whirring gears and the broken pistons in his cybernetics that I am currently picking up are any indication, something more than what simple bullets or a few augmented punches would do," he snarled savagely, thinking back to when he had tangled with Simpson himself a couple of months ago: It took dropping him out of a twenty story building to finish the job! He let the club go from Agent's neck and reached into the man's utility belt, finding the first aid kit by the smell of the iodine and dumping it in his face. Dude was an asshole, but even assholes needed to be patched up. Simpson was headed north and would enter Central Park within a few moments. After that he would either be in Midtown or headed for Times Square, or worse: Hell's Kitchen itself. Too many options.
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" That'd be me. The Spider-Man of tomorrow, here to save today... "
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Post by Rift on Feb 29, 2016 14:28:17 GMT -7
John practically snarled. At that moment, had he been able to, he’s was fairly certain he’d have ripped out Daredevil’s throat with the teeth he had helped loosen.
“Self righteous, arrogant son of a bitch!” he spat. “Outsmarted? I wasn’t exactly bringing my A game. Why? Because you decided to interfere with my mission, inserting yourself in a situation that you had no business being in! You might dress like Satan, but mister you sure as hell think you are God himself! And if you were as smart as you like others to think, you’d not have wasted time throwing down with a guy doing his job!”
Despite wishing his powers extended to instant death glare disintegrations, John was thankful for the crappy patchwork Daredevil applied.
Good to know he just hates me, otherwise I’d think the bastard was blind the way he applies first aid.
“Now let’s get something straight here Daredevil. You don’t like me and I sure as hell don’t like you. If this was any normal night I’d be hauling my ass up and kicking yours through your throat for pulling this crap. As it is, I don’t have the luxury of wasting any more time on you. So, you can either stand here preaching at me, acting as if you are somehow morally superior, or you can back off and let me stop that maniac from pulling any further stupidity! So, what's it going to be hornhead?”
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 14:37:03 GMT -7
Daredevil didn't answer right away, merely had his back to him, which given that he "saw" all around his person, did little more to him than the effect of pissing off the Agent, which he took pleasure in. When he did speak, it was to the point. "I never claim to be God, but judgment should be laid at his feet, not yours. Or mine. I'm just trying to make my city a better place. Even from people like you," he said, his voice was spoken at normal volume, but the tone came off as a whisper. He heard a comm device beeping in the Agent's belt. Probably a backup considering he didn't feel one on the Agent. He turned his head back. "You might want to get that," he said, and leapt up the alleyway to the rooftop. Agent would undoubtedly follow, so he decided to wait on the rooftop so he could be ready rather than in an alleyway, if only to give the man a false sense of privacy, not that there was one with Daredevil around. Still, the sentiment was there, and the Agent didn't know he could hear, so that was enough.
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Post by Rift on Feb 29, 2016 14:52:52 GMT -7
Feebly reaching into his belt he produced a backup communicator, contacting command and updating them on the situation. There was a long pause on the other end and for a moment he thought the equipment had been damaged. Then, as the sound of sirens approached from the near distance, a voice came over the other end and it wasn’t Valerie Cooper. It was a male’s voice and he thought he recognized it, but considering the head trauma he had suffered he couldn’t be sure. “Captain Walker, the mission is a wash. I’ve been being updated and that explosion drew the attention of the authorities and the media alike. That said, I’m putting an end to this operation. All Commission operatives have been withdrawn and all other government operatives are receiving the order to stand down on Simpson as we speak.” “Sir, I’m banged up, but all I need is a pain killer and some bandages and I can…”“You can sit tight soldier. The media is on the way and sooner or later at least some version of the truth is going to come out. It is important we get ahead of the storm and make sure that version of the truth is ours. The media and the heads of other agencies are going to be looking for heads to roll, they are going to want someone to be held responsible,” the man replied. “So when can I expect the evac?” he asked. “Son, I want you to know how much we appreciate your service. You have served with honor, you respected the legacy of Captain America when it was given to you and since that time you have conducted yourself with dignity as the U.S.Agent. Now, let me be clear: you should be proud and know that what happens next is in no way a reproach on your character or the service you have provided.”That non-answer was all John needed. He knew what was happening. He was being left high and dry. It wasn’t officially firing him, it was disavowing all knowledge of his actions. He’d be found, likely by the authorities or maybe a newshound, broken and bleeding not far from the explosion. Nuke’s involvement would eventually come out, but even when it did, he’d be branded a menace. A loose cannon. The crazy wannabe Cap that turned Hell’s Kitchen and beyond into a war zone when he went off the reservation. And just for fun the fact John Walker’s death had been faked some years back would come out. They’d label him a domestic terrorist and with his identity blown he’d never get work with any reputable agency again. Even Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. shifty as those bastards were, wouldn’t touch him. His life and career were essentially over. That was when he realized he wasn’t mistaken about the voice on the other end. After all, the Commission had little to no oversight. They answered directly to the man on the other line. “That said, extenuating circumstances on the ground, things you are unaware of, necessitate the actions I have now approved. I hope you understand.”John’s jaw tightened, popping as it did. “Oh I understand perfectly...Mr. President,” he answered. “Good man. You always did know how to follow orders. Now….”Walker smashed the communicator, pieces of plastic flying everywhere Forcing himself to his feet and blocking out the pain as much as he could, he secured his weapons and slid his shield back into place on his back. In seconds, he followed Daredevil’s path, landing in a crouch beside him on the rooftop. “Let’s save the verbal sparring and the actual ass kicking for a later date and time,” U.S.Agent told him. “We still have a loose Nuke problem and neither of us is one-hundred percent. What do you say put our differences aside for a moment, go find Simpson, and kick his teeth down his throat for all the people he’s hurt tonight?”
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 15:10:32 GMT -7
Daredevil glanced back, just to show he was listening, then after a moment of "holding" the gaze, he nodded. "One rule: No killing. You've done enough of that tonight," he said, turning around. "Nuke would be in Central Park by now, and his trail is impossible to pick up until he leaves it. I am assuming what he had here was a safehouse, yes? Where would he go to next if this one was compromised?" he asked and waited for the man's response. He had heard everything that just happened and while Spider-Man might've said "I told you so," to the US Agent, Daredevil opted for more tact and chose not to mention it. He had been through enough, tonight. ------------------------------------------- Nuke upped his double time and kept a rhythmic pace as he dashed away through the trees to avoid the crowds. He was scary enough to look at on his own, he didn't need civilians making a scene and drawing attention to him. Not that it already wasn't difficult given his torn shirt, cybernetics popping out in weird places. He had just repaired some of those areas too! His fatigues were torn, he was a mess all over. Nevertheless he kept on running. Leftrightleftrightleftrightleft.He could have always headed for the safehouse in Hell's Kitchen. But that would just attract Daredevil. Too risky. Fine, new plan. But where? He was almost at the North end of the park! Sure he had to double back to throw off the trail but he couldn't get further out than a few square miles before - - wait, Square. That's it! He turned back around and headed south. There was one more off the books safehouse he could get to: Times Square. He could kiss himself.
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Post by Rift on Feb 29, 2016 15:31:53 GMT -7
“Actually, I haven’t killed anyone tonight. Those men I handled at the other safe house were operatives of the government, different agency than the one I answer to, but Americans nonetheless. They may find eating solid foods a chore for a while, but enemy combatants they are not. When it comes to Nuke…no promises. If we can take him down without punching his ticket fine, but we can’t let him cause any more death than he already has,” U.S.Agent responded, stressing that the only people he would kill are those that had it coming. He was a soldier, not a sociopath. “As for Simpson…we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
He just hoped that the vigilante would realize that if he had to, he’d eliminate the threat Nuke posed permanently before he’d let him kill anyone else. That poor cab driver’s face still fresh in his mind, he silently swore to do what was necessary regardless of what the devil thought, but only if it came to it. He thought on Daredevil’s question for a moment. “Psycho or not, he’s a soldier. If he’s in Central Park he isn’t just running scared. My guess? He’s heading for Time’s Square and he has a plan. If we are lucky, he’s headed for yet another safe house. The way he was trained he’d have multiple backup sites that are easily accessible if things go sideways, and the Square is close without being so close as to make it pointless to ahve so close to the one he blew. Plus, if he is hurt like you said, then he’s going to want to patch himself up. Won’t get too far looking like something that stepped out of Terminator. Even at this time of night the Square is busy and he might be able to temporarily blend in with civilians.”He grimaced as another option occurred to him. “If we are unlucky, then he’s headed that way precisely because it is crowded. If he thinks this is some kind of last stand, he might be hoping to take hostages or to take as many people with him when he goes down as he possibly can.”
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 15:54:11 GMT -7
Daredevil pondered that for a moment. "Times Square puts him less than a block from Hell's Kitchen. If he's doubling back into a crowded area, then something must be there in the Square he can cause the most destruction with. What's in that safehouse? Bombs? Missiles? Machine Guns? And better yet what kind of moron requisitions such high yield weaponry in such a populated area!?" he asked and with that leaping off the rooftop firing his cable and swinging off. Agent would keep pace and they would be more prudent to continue this conversation while on the move. They were at least a good forty minutes away on foot from the Square. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Simpson made it to Times Square with moments to spare. At least here, he admitted, he didn't stick out as much considering this was Broadway. If anything he looked like somebody from one of the plays out back having a smoke. He checked his watch. He still had a good four hours until he needed a blue to come down. Well that was fortunate. Still, after a moment's consideration, that wasn't Captain America, Cap didn't wear black. Must've been that other one he had heard about while in the Stan. He was also supposed to be dead. Then again, masks these days had a history of putting on the same outfit so it could've just been a new loser in the government's pocket too. No matter. They probably already knew where he was going, which made him kind of sad, but not as sad as they were going to be. Why didn't they ever understand? They never understand. This is the homefront. Totally different kind of war. Here they bring cute things like "honor and morality" into it. All that did was make shit harder to work with. Over there he didn't need to hurt somebody's feelings, he just hurt them. Well, at the shortest he had about a half hour until they arrived, which was plenty of time to get the armaments from the safehouse. He slipped inside the secret entrance, not even bothering to worry about the tripped alarm and began to load up as much as he could: Semi-auto, machine guns, his favourite handcannon, the minigun, and a pair of one use RPGs as well as a bandolier of grenades, a machete, and a few sidearms for good measure. They thought the machine gun turret was a cute trick then, well, once he caused an incident again they would understand: War is war. You either live or you die. Plain and simple. He took the safety off the minigun and waited in the room itself with a beer in hand. Ah, God bless America.
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Post by Rift on Feb 29, 2016 16:18:51 GMT -7
John considered it for a moment and the truth was, that was a damn good question. He ran along rooftops, vaulting over ledges and air vents as he kept pace with Daredevil despite his injuries. It was not an easy thing to do. Calling out to Daredevil he said, "Considering his history and the fact so many organizations have been on to him for so long now, a man on the run shouldn't have been able to put together the arsenal he has with such ease. Besides, knowing you are in these parts and that he's encountered me, it is strange he isn't hightailing it out of the state. Something more is going on here. Almost makes a guy wonder if he isn't being aided some how, if someone isn't lending him resources. Whatever the case, he's sure to have a plan even if it only makes sense to his junkie addled mind. And we can be relatively sure that however insane his plan may be, he's aiming for as many casualties as possible."
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