Patent Pending – The Night of the Prowler

[x-otoxic.livejournal.com]

The Avenging Angel summons Daredevil and the Spider-Men to stop the thief who has been stealing from Worthington Industries.

Even this late at night, there was plenty of traffic along FDR Drive leading to the Queensboro Bridge into Brooklyn. There were no pedestrians, though, which meant that the four masked vigilantes were unlikely to be seen as they scoped out the Biotech facility. Three times now, someone or someones had nigh undetectably sneaked into Worthington Industries holdings to steal a prototype the night before its public unveiling. They had no doubt that history would repeat itself tonight, but this time, they'd catch the thief.

Miles hung upside down from the web line and looked over his partners. He felt a sense of excitement mixed with dread for this mission. He couldn't wait to go on an adventure with Spider-Man, Angel, and Daredevil for the first time in forever, especially with the new costume that Daredevil's brother had provided him. But anyone who could pull off a crime like this was probably not someone to mess with. Would they be able to stop the thief?

He shook his head to clear the negative thoughts when he noticed Peter looking at him. Even through the mask, Miles could tell that Peter was wearing the same trepidative expression he was. "Think we finally found that new super-baddy we've been looking for since Ock disappeared?" Miles asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Finally found? You mean you've been out looking for a new bad guy?" Peter asked. "Talk about baddy issues. Heh."

"Cut the chatter," Matt cut in over the comms. Having everyone on comms together was a great idea, they'd never had that before, but it also directly affected his hearing when he was trying to pay attention. He couldn't hear through the building, the walls were too thick, but he didn't hear anything yet. "We need to make sure we stop this guy."

Warren nodded to himself, but didn't respond right away. This wasn't like their usual outings -- there was a clear end game here. Anything that affected the bottom line would cause ripples that he wasn't prepared to deal with.

Crouching low, he kept his eyes on the building, relying on his enhanced eyesight to catch something, anything...."He'll be here," he said quietly, almost to himself. "He has to be."

It only took a little while longer for Warren to be proved right. From their vantage points, they could see a bulky shadow dashing down the abandoned street, heading straight for Biotech. It seemed to merge into the darkness and disappear when it got close to the facility. A mutant, maybe? Someone trying to take down Biotech's anti-mutant plans, Miles wondered.

On Warren's command, the team split to cover each corner of the building. Warren to the east, Miles at the south, Peter west, and Matt at the north end. No matter where the thief escaped from, he'd get caught.

Time was passing slowly and yet quickly. Focusing on scoping the area ahead of him, Warren felt like he was moving two steps forward, and one back as he found himself hyper sensitive to all the noises in the building. Glancing at his watch, he realized it'd been at least twenty minutes since he started looking for the potential thief. With a silent groan, he wondered if he someone missed the man entirely, when he caught a break -- a bright light appeared and blinked out just as quickly, as if the man was looking at a cell phone. Even thieves had to text, Warren thought to himself.

Curiously, he tried to find a good vantage spot to keep a better eye. It didn't appear as if there was anything in the man's hands...yet. Better to catch him red-handed than anything else.

Again, a light shone only to suddenly disappear, this time coming from somewhere inside the facility. The shadows around them changed, and a minute or two later, the bulky figure had once again emerged along the building's perimeter. He crept slower than he had earlier, his head flitting back and forth as he took stock of his surroundings. The rucksack on his bag hit against his body as he turned.

Then, with little fanfare, he began to move faster.

It was times like this that Warren secretly dreamed of telekinetic flight. There was no way he could fly without the man hearing his wings against the air. Even tiptoeing worried Warren -- it wasn't like he was weightless. He tried his best to follow the burglar.

The thief started bolting toward a fence, his eyes scanning his surrounding as he moved. Then he stopped suddenly, about thirty feet from his intended destination. He reached into his pockets, grabbing a weirdly-shaped object out of it, staring down at it for a second, then looking up at the fence.

He took two steps toward the fence, then whipped around and lunged at Warren.

Warren was thankful he hadn't bound his wings. Jumping backwards, he stretched his wings out as best he could for balance. "Who are you?," Warren asked loudly, hoping the sound would carry and alert the others. ‎

‎"You know, that's private property."

The thief snorted, making his disdain for Warren's words apparent with little more than a sound. He used the time taken by the other man's admonition to survey him, then leaped toward the winged man again in the hopes of grounding him.

Another bo‎unce, another narrowly missed hit. Or so Warren thought until he looked down. The thief clearly had some power with his stick. "These are Italian," Warren muttered, glaring at the tear in his pants. "Just put back the item, maybe tell me where the other objects are, and I promise not to hurt you too much."

The man tilted his head, glancing for a second at the scratch he'd left. "Nah," he sneered, and were he not wearing a mask, the other man would have seen the incredulous look on his face. "I will say, the misguided chivalry is cute, though." He flipped the stick around so a blade on the end was pointing toward Warren, then threw the pointy end at the billionaire businessman. Instantly after letting go, he reached toward his backpack.

Warren's next move, taking to the air to avoid being hit, was what the masked man had anticipated. In a few seconds, he had grabbed what appeared to be a metal gun and fired it quickly in the winged man's direction. A cable with a grappling hook at the end shot out, and as it flew toward Warren, it started beeping.

Warren instinctively tried to fly higher, to try to pull away from the cable but it grew tighter and tighter, binding his wings and restricting his movements.

Falling from the air, he fell hard on his shoulder, his head hitting the ground hard enough that he saw stars. Groaning in pain‎, he tried his best to wiggle out if the net, but the timing mechanism didn't let go until its pre-determined time was up.

The thief didn't bother looking back; as quickly as he'd fired the hook toward Warren, he was already resuming his exit strategy.

Although it was fruitless,‎ he continued to fight against the metal cable, feeling his skin rip until, as suddenly as it entrapped him, it let go. Reaching for his comm, he spoke into it urgently. "Angel down. He's here. Consider him dangerous!‎".

~*~

After Angel falls, the Spider-Men step up.

Man down! Miles was on his way to assist Warren until he saw the shadowy figure pass underneath him. With a grunt of annoyance, Miles used his momentum to swing back and try to catch up with the fleeing thief. But the guy was fast. Like, fast. Miles wasn't sure that he could catch up on his web-lines. Thankfully, he seemed to be headed straight for the third team member.

"Spidey Uno, incoming!" he alerted Peter through their comm. "The pendejo got Angel but I'm right behind him."

"This is no time to be playing cards!" Peter quipped, swinging towards the would-be thief head-on in an attempt to knock him off his feet. As he soared towards his target he shot out two other web nets, one on either side, as a back up plan to try and catch the thief should he dodge his attack.

As one Spider-Man swung toward him, the thief reached toward his waist, grabbing an object out of a pouch before lobbing it in Peter's general direction. It fell well short, make a popping noise on the ground between the thief and the would-be superhero. Seconds later, smoke began to fill the air. The man covered his face with his elbow and continued running, changing his path to account for the new obstacle.

Miles held his breath as he swung through the dark mist, momentarily forgetting that Clint's upgrades to their suits were built with filters specifically for this sort of event. The eye pieces helped to see through the fog, too, although the blur of the thief was much too fast, and Miles overshot it. His kick missed, and he landed messily several feet away, but jumped right back to his feet.

"You're outnumbered, homes. Now be a good bad guy and hand it back, por favor."

The thief stopped running, pivoting on his heel to face this new aggressor. "Ah, so he speaks Spanish." He gave Miles a once-over. "That's a shame." The webs Peter shot had landed far from where the two of them now stood, but the attack clearly inspired Miles' target. He reached into yet another pouch and threw a grenade-sized ball at the second Spider-Man. As it zoomed toward Miles, it burst open into a net.

It was something straight out of a cartoon. It would have been hilarious if Miles had actually managed to dodge it. As it was, it wrapped around his legs like a sort of half-cocoon, and the weights pinned him down to the ground. "Spidey!"

Peter swung towards him from the west, letting go of his web and tumbling to a stop on the ground. Aiming at the Prowler's feet, he shot as much webbing as he could at his target, trying to pin him in place.

"We already did this dance." The burglar's reflexes were clearly sharper than either spider-hero had planned for, since he managed to dodge out of the way of the webbing as he ran toward Peter's spot on the ground. From his pocket, he withdrew a knife that he sent shooting toward the man in hopes of throwing him off.

Even with his spider sense Peter barely managed to dodge the flying blade, juking to one side just in time to evade the attack. "Yeah, but it's a dance, you ever go to one and just dance once? Of course not!" He flung out two more webs, slingshotting himself forward after the burglar. "And cut it out with the knives! Heh." Bad puns aside, he kept his distance this time, just to be safe.

"Oh God, ese hideputa," the thief muttered as he took to the ground and rolled out of the way of the webs. With Spider-Man flying toward him, he grabbed something out of his satchel and once again ran toward the costumed hero. It wasn't clear what the object was until, just as it appeared they were headed toward a collision, the thief took three caltrops and slammed them into Peter's left foot.

Ignoring the howls of pain, he once again took flight and headed toward his original destination.

~*~

Last to confront the Prowler is Daredevil.

Matt heard the fight well before it got to him and he was ready. What he didn't expect was to recognize the thief. It wasn't one specific thing that tipped him off, but several, including how he moved. "Prowler!" he growled, annoyed. They had faced off a few times, but each time, the guy had gotten away.

There was no more time for talking as Matt was determined not to let the Prowler get away this time, especially not with the Worthington tech. Launching himself at the man, he wasn't expecting Prowler to be ready for him and worse - prepared.

Again, a light shone only to suddenly disappear, this time coming from somewhere inside the facility. The shadows around them changed, and a minute or two later, the bulky figure had once again emerged along the building's perimeter. He crept slower than he had earlier, his head flitting back and forth as he took stock of his surroundings. The rucksack on his back hit against his body as he turned. At the sound of the voice, Prowler spun on his heel. He turned just in time to see a familiar man lunging toward him. "You," he grunted as he jumped back to put some distance between him and the vigilante. "Should have known." He started reaching into his pocket, then quickly withdrew his closed hand and propelled it toward Daredevil.

If he should have known, then he should have come prepared. Drawing his billy club, Matt grunted as something hit his shoulder, sending jolts of electricity through him and him to his knees. What the fuck? This was new. And painful. Reaching up, he grabbed the barbs in his costume and pulled them out. Ignoring the pain, he launched his billy club at the Prowler, he was determined to put this on even footing.

With reflexes that appeared superhuman, Prowler dodged the oncoming attack. He countered back with a kick in an effort to sweep Daredevil's leg.

Matt was many things, including a black belt several times over in different martial arts, but he did not possess superhuman speed. The kick effectively knocked him down, though not out as he immediately rolled and kicked at Prowler's knee, unconsciously leaving his chest open.

The kick connected with Prowler's leg, but as he stumbled, he moved his weapon-wielding hand in front of him. As he recovered, he moved his hand - and the taser in it toward Daredevil's form on the ground.

The taser prongs bit into his flesh despite the flexible body armour he wore and it was a good thing he was already down because falling would be worse. Convulsing, Matt was helpless to stop it as the energy coursed through his body, muscles spasming uncontrollably.

Prowler allowed himself the smallest of smirks before dropping the taser on the ground and immediately kicking Daredevil in the stomach several times. His expression widened at the man's grunts of pain, and he crouched over the other man's body.

"Much easier this time, eh?" The thief threw a punch at Daredevil's jaw, then at his cheek. His form was poor - clearly he hadn't spent much time training at a dojo or anything, but what he lacked in style, he made up for in brute aggression. As his fists connected with the other man's face, it was clear that he was hiding serious strength behind his mask and outfit.

Prowler continued to attack Murdock on the ground, his energy surprising given that he'd just taken down four opponents. Then, just as quickly as he'd began combat, his hands fell to his side. With surprisingly quick reflexes, he jumped up and bolted, grabbing his bag of goodies as he fled.

Reaching for his comm, Matt hit it, then grunted, rolling to his side before working up the ability to get up. He didn't remember the Prowler hitting that hard. Or having those toys. The man had a serious upgrade recently and that was not good for their mission.

~*~

The team regroups after their failure.

The one time that Miles had cursed in front of his parents, his mother had literally washed out his mouth with soap. He'd cleaned up his vocabulary a lot since then. But Rio might forgive him for swearing if she saw Matt, too, blood pouring from his mouth and nose and disappearing into the red of his costume.

"Matt!" Miles cried out as he landed from a web-line. "Oh fuck. Can you hear me?"

Rolling into his side so he could try to push himself up easier, Matt wished he could move, everything hurt even with the body armor and he knew it would only get worse with time, "Yeah," he grunted, finally managing a sitting position. Go him. "Use...the other name, Little Bug." He'd wash Miles' mouth with soap for using his given name right now.

Good thing Miles was still wearing his mask, so no one could see his grimace. "Sorry. Are you okay? What the hell did that guy do to you?"

"I'll live," he stated, grabbing the teen to use him as leverage to get up. "He got the better of me," pulling out a burner phone from a pocket, he pushed the button to call Claire, only to get her voice mail. Oh right, she was out of town visiting her sister or something. "We need to get out of here," and figure out finding a doctor or someone without going to the hospital.

"Damn straight, we need to go after that guy before we lose him." Peter said, landing in a crouch on the other side of Miles. They'd gotten their asses handed to them but he had no intention of laying around and licking his wounds, not while someone that dangerous was still out there.

So this is what guilt feels like, Warren thought as he surveyed his friends. Although he too had taken his share of the beating, it was nothing like Matt.‎ "No," Warren said forcefully. "Not all of us. Daredevil, LB, you both need to get to somewhere safe. DD's place." Warren nodded, his plan coming to mind. If Warren ordered Miles out, there was no way the younger man would listen, but with the responsibility of Matt...." I'll arrange a doctor. Spiderman, you doing okay? I don't want to drag anyone else down here."

"I'll be doing a lot better once we put that guy down for good." Seeing how hurt Daredevil was made it all sink in, however, and Peter realized what had to happen. "Don't worry about me, honest. I just..." Shaking his head, he thwipped out a line and hoisted himself skyward once again. "Right, I'll tail the bastard and I'll keep you posted, sound like a plan?"

"Let's go," he agreed, turning his head towards Miles slightly because he didn't want to admit he might need help. It wasn't like they could take the subway or grab a cab. Standing, he focused his energy on staying upright and moving forward. "Go get him," he instructed the others.