A Situation Taken Care Of

April 13, 2014: Two vigilantes happen upon each other while seeking to lend aid during a hostage situation.

P.S. K811 - NYC

One of New York City's public high school.



  • Random hostage takers

Mood Music:

It hasn't been long since alarms started going off at 2525 Haring Street in Brooklyn. First it was being called a disturbance. Then an attempted kidnapping. Now that calls are reaching local police precincts, it's officially escalated to a hostage situation involving multiple armed perpetrators with unknown motivations.

The kicker? 2525 Haring Street is the address for P.S. K811. A high school.

No uniformed officers have arrived at K811. Not yet, anyway. The only signs that anything might be amiss are too subtle for any but the most trained observer. A heavyset man loitering near the front door with a pistol tucked not quite out of sight at his belt. A woman standing on the roof who's too watchful to just be out enjoying the air. And silence. Entirely too much silence.

Normally Huntress isn't out during the day, especially during the school year when she's doing the teacher thing Monday through Friday. But she managed to catch wind of this before it really started getting underway and, after playing hooky (something she learned from her students) and traveling to this part of the city as Helena only to then find somewhere to hide so she could change… okay, so being a hero with a secret identity during the day sucks but she couldn't just sit there and not do anything.

A building with a clear line of sight is where she is now, standing upon its roof while peering over the edge with a small pair of binoculars held to her face. Of course she notices those little things the average person would miss, the man and woman carefully observed while she waits. God, this is always the shitty part but she's patient and she knows that is the important thing right now.

With no warning whatsoever, an arrow zips across the school's courtyard and THUNKs solidly into the watchful woman's shoulder. Before she can cry out, the shaft lights up with arcing electricity. Knocked unconscious by the jolt, she sinks to her knees, then falls on her face.

That's when the Green Arrow lifts himself over the side of the building and levers his body up onto the roof. Contrary to what people might expect, nothing about the Arrow is larger than life. He's tall, but not unreasonably so. He's broad of shoulder, but no more than many men who spend a more than average amount of time at the gym.

The green, though. The outfit is so green. A deep, rich, green that's reminiscent of grass and trees. Hood. Pants. Jacket. Gloves. It's all made of leather, with the telltale flatness of Kevlar showing here and there. The hood is pulled low enough to conceal his eyes and the bridge of his nose, leaving only his mouth, jaw, and chin visible. Occasionally, the hood will ride high enough to expose a band of green paint that covers his face from brows to cheekbones, further obscuring his features, even as he leans back over the edge of the roof to peer into several windows.

Her head turns just as the woman's shot, that in and of itself surprising, but then she watches as she jerks and convulses before collapsing, that being something she finds herself unprepared for. "Oh no, I don't think so." Her collapsible crossbow is brought out of it's holster on her thigh and readied with a bolt but then the figure in green shows himself, stopping the Huntress before she can pull the trigger.

The majority of his features are hidden until her binoculars are used again and he comes into view as if only several feet away from him with none of what she can make of his details hidden. Green. Bow and arrow… ah. Yes. She knows of this person but doesn't know much. Honestly, he's about as much an urban myth as Batman can be without the benefit of a name to go by.

The crossbow is put back into place and she hurries, looking for a narrow spot she can jump between roofs, hoping to get to where this mysterious archer is before he disappears.

Arrow seems to have picked a window two floors down from the roof. He ties off a short length of very fine rope to an exhaust pipe and wraps the other end around his glove. Seconds before Huntress makes her jump, he turns to face her. There's a bare curve at the corners of his mouth as he lifts a finger to his lips.

Then he leaps over the gutters, drops twenty feet, and swings feet-first through a classroom window.

The Italiana starts to swear in, what else, Italian as she watches her prey slip inside, that getting Huntress to move more swiftly. She makes with a running start and leaps just as the ball of her right foot touches the edge of that ledge, her body propelled across the gap as she pushes off. It's close thanks to how she almost falls despite getting good footing on the opposite side, her balance off enough to almost cause her to fall backward, but with a flailing of limbs she manages to right herself, keeping her from falling however many stories below. Gritting her teeth, she goes to check on the unconscious woman, making sure she's still alive, before she leans over the ledge.

The window is found easily and she can't help but groan. "I am… damnit." A shoulder is shrugged before she takes the same way in, choosing to tie off a length of her own rope before rappelling down. Hopefully the Robin Hood wannabe will be easy to find once she's inside.

The Robin Hood wannabe is prepared, though. He's still in the same easy crouch where he landed, bow in hand with the string drawn back to his chin. No TASER arrow this time. He looks at his pursuer down the gleaming point of a broadhead.

"Why are you following me?" he asks. Digitally masked, his voice comes out deep and menacing. Barely audible, his leather glove creaks as he strains to hold back his bowstring.

Silly archer, tricks are for kids. As soon as she's in the room and notices the threat this man is posing upon her person Huntress draws her weapon, the arms of the crossbow clicking into place as the small weapon's pulled free from the purple nylon holster on her thigh. The bolt is still loaded as she never took it out earlier, meaning she's just as ready to shoot as he is.

"I am here to help with the situation," she comments dryly, not amused. "Happened to see you take out their lookout on the roof. Was curious." See? She is not following the green archer for any other reason than to try and figure him out. "Why are you here?"

"Looks like we're here for the same reasons. I was close by when I heard the news." Green Arrow lowers his bow and lets the tension out of the string, but doesn't stow his weapon entirely. "I'll make an exception since there's children involved, but I work alone. I'm not looking for a sidekick, so don't get any ideas."

Now he slides the arrow back into his quiver and makes for the door with his bow still in hand. After cracking the door and peeking through, he steps out into the hallway, leaving his new friend to follow.

"I am nobody's sidekick, stronzo (asshole)," comes a snapped retort, Huntress' eyes narrowed as she glares at the man. "And you're going to be working with me if only so I can make sure you don't screw this up." Her own weapon is held up instead of put away, the bolt in no danger of hitting him or someone innocent if she somehow accidentally fires it while they move.

For someone who is covered in head-to-toe leather just about she moves remarkably quiet and not even the heavy soles of her boots makes much noise, nothing to give her away unless someone has super hearing or is in possession of some kind of sound amplification, device. Arrow's shadow is a stealthy one.

Now that they're on the prowl, Arrow holds his tongue as they move from doorway to doorway. From the looks of things, most of the school has had the time and opportunity to evacuate. Nearly all of the rooms are empty.

Abruptly, he motions to halt and drops into a crouch in front of the door. A few seconds later, there's a crackle of electricity and a muffled voice coming from a radio. "All units, check in."

"One okay." "Two okay." "Three okay." Men and women sound off in turn until they get to "Eight okay," after which there's a noticeable lull. Finally, the voice that initiated the count is heard again. "Nine is off the grid. I want Six and Eight to the roof to check things out. Everyone else, stay alert."

Just after the muffled radio goes silent, the door swings open and hits Arrow in the back. Caught off guard, he has to scramble to get back to his feet and out of the path of a man wearing simple, olive drab clothing with a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

Each voice is listened to as much as they can be, muffled as they are, each one not sounding like any she's heard before. Brings her to the conclusion that if this is something the Mafia’s involved in that it's a family she's not familiar with. Not that they are Mafia for certain. It isn't a given that this is the case - they could be one of any number of criminal scum, after all - but that is how her mind works. By the time the count's done and the one's realized to be missing she frowns, bracing herself for what she expects is next.

As Arrow's sent scurrying to get away from the door she takes to a knee and shoots, aiming for the soft spot just above his left knee, and then she launches herself at him, fist flying. That's a lot for one person to try to do at once so she might very easily miss but here's for hoping at least the bolt finds its target if nothing else does.

The crossbow bolt sinks into the man's leg and the fist connects with his chin, sending him to the floor with shotgun firing harmlessly at the ceiling.

Unabashed, the Arrow rubs his rump and then cracks his neck. "Not bad, but let's keep moving. This is supposed to be a hostage situation and I haven't seen any hostages."

The Huntress cocks a sideward glance at her impromptu partner and gives him a wink. "Might have them in a main room, like a gymnasium or something similar," she points out. With her alter ego being a teacher she knows of various protocols that might be used in a situation like this, so it's easy to assume that such would be the case here.

She angles her head to one side near where a stairwell is, the way down being perhaps fifteen feet or so. Most schools have the gym and other large rooms on the ground floor so it's really just a matter of getting downstairs and to where the kids might be.

"I was thinking the same thing," is Green Arrow's deep, rumbling reply. "Let's move. The NYPD's response time is terrible, but they'll get here eventually."

His bow dangles loosely from his hand as he trots toward the stairs, pokes his head down to check the stairwell, then quickly withdraws. Just as fast, he draws an arrow, sets it, and fires it down toward the landing between floors.

There's a brief, shrill scream, then a quieter moan. Another man, this one dressed the same as the first, has been pierced through the hand by the arrow. The broadhead has also skewered a radio, plowed on through, and driven itself into the wall.

"Don't blame the police. If it's anything like Gotham, they're busy as hell." The Huntress looks at the shot man and purses her lips, taking in how Arrow aimed and where his arrow hit, it causing her to take pause and just eye the poor man. "Very nice."

There really is no time to admire each other's handy work, though, and soon she's sweeping past the other anti-hero and his victim, the latter giving one last look before she scoots past, the man undoubtedly screaming like a bitch. He should be fine but there really is no time to check. Not when there are children who need saved.

"Wait." Arrow has paused next to his prey. Now speaking directly to the skewered man, he makes quiet shushing sounds as he moves in closer. And closer. When his lips are a scant inch away from his quivering victim's ear, his voice comes out as a deep, harsh growl. "How many more are there?"

"I-I-I'm not telling you anything." It's a fair attempt at a confident reply under the circumstances, but it's hardly convincing. Especially coming from a man who's barely 5'8", maybe 150 pounds, and young enough to still be covered in spots. Old enough to be a kidnapper, though.

The hooded vigilante glances over at Huntress. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

They get younger, really. The bad guys, that is. They grow younger and younger and closer to the age of her students at the school. Turns her stomach, truly, and causes bile to burn the back of her throat as it threatens to spill from her. Turning her head, Huntress waves a hand, dismissively. "Do what you want," she utters before she tucks down the stairs.

Each flight is carefully rounded and whatever threats are taken care of accordingly. Whether or not they'll survive running into her or not is anyone's guess.

Arrow catches up with his temporary partner a few moments later. "Didn't take much to get him talking. There's six more. One by the front door, five with the hostages. In the gym, like you said. I left him wrapped up for the police."

With the knowledge that their path is clear, they can make good time all the way to their destination. The double doors are sturdy, with small windows made from wired, reinforced glass.

"Hrm," the hooded vigilante grunts. "That's a lot of space to cover for five hostiles. I could set off some flash grenades. Got any tricks up your sleeve?"

Just like she expected. Huntress shakes her head and leans against the wall closest to the last stair, taking time to look down the hall in one direction and then the other. Doesn't take her long at all to discover where the guy by the door is, it getting her to shake her head and then point carefully in that direction.

"I am not known for my… tricks," she whispers with a wry grin. "If they're going to survive it'll be by your doing." She watches Arrow carefully before she takes a moment to load her crossbow. Right now this is his game. She'll be following his lead.

"Flashbangs it is," the Arrow replies. He pulls three arrows with fat, cylindrical tips from his quiver and knocks them up in a row. "If you have earplugs, now would be a good time to use them. And don't look at the light."

A few seconds later, he kicks open the door and fires all three of his arrows simultaneously. Just as he ducks back out of the doorway, they detonate and fill the gymnasium with an intense, blinding flash of light coupled with an ear-shattering boom of sound.

It's enough to cut off basic sensory input and instill terrible disorientation in all five of the hostage takers. One is just inside the doorway, two are up on the bleachers, and there are two more in the center of the tiled floor. The final pair seem to have been keeping watch over a dozen teenagers before the detonation.

Oh damnit. She hates those things. Had enough experience to know they hurt and are not fun in any capacity, hence the hurry to cover her ears, close her eyes and turn away.

And not a moment too soon, too. As soon as she is able to put her back towards the other room the flashbangs go off, the concussion of which she can feel. It makes her slightly nauseous thanks to the shock waves that bombard her body, leaving her woozy even though she managed to look away in time, the queasiness disorientating.

"Ready," she asks while lifting her voice, trying to hear Arrow over the rush of blood that almost deafens her, that surge of sound almost making it impossible for her to hear herself.

Green Arrow wastes no time, he charges in and throws a thunderous punch at the man closest to the door. The instant it lands, he draws an arrow and fires it at a woman close to the children who's holding a submachine gun.

Thoroughly unconscious, the first man slumps to the floor. The woman is pierced through the shoulder. She drops her weapon and falls to her knees, screaming.

Two down, three to go.

A figure in purple and black rush behind the green-clad archer, throwing punches of her own in lieu of shooting, not wanting to risk shooting any of the kids and teachers who are being held. Despite her rush to try and put the last of the felons down she moves with an obvious grace, every motion fluid. Calculated.

One of the thugs gets their jaw nearly dislocated as she punches them in the face, the sound of that joint dislocating sickening, and then another winds up knocked out with a well-placed, perfectly-timed kick to their chin. There's one left now. All Arrow's. Consider it a gift from Huntress.

Arrow pulls his bowstring all the way back to his ear before he releases, skewering the last of the would-be kidnappers in such a way that his arm is pinned to his thigh.

The bad guys are wounded, unconscious, and/or reeling. The endangered children are safe. "I think we can consider the day saved. We should get out of here before…"

Flashes of red and blue light can be seen through the windows, along with the faint sound of a siren.

"Too late!" This is a familiar situation to Huntress as well and she knows exactly what to do. She grabs for Arrow's nearest arm and runs, not even bothering to stay to admire their handy work. No time to. Shame, isn't it?

If it was darker they could seek out shadows to conceal themselves in but there is very little in the way of that to hide in, plus every nook and cranny will undoubtedly be searched at the same time the freshly-saved hostages are saved. Shit. Very little in the way of options here.

A door leads to a stairway down towards the basement where lots of shadowy recesses and all that should be able to be found. Hopefully he's as good as hiding as he is at the bow an arrow, otherwise they're fucked.

Very near the door, Arrow stops, springs upward, and wedges himself into place up along the ceiling. It's certainly not a position he can hold forever, but it'll do for now.

He looks down at Huntress with a wisp of a smile quirking his lips. "Coming?"

Oh please. Does she have to? Huntress really does not want to be close to him but there are shouts and yelling and commands being given in very loud levels of volume, making her wrinkle her nose. "Right."

She hops up and snuggles in close to where Arrow is, close enough to where she has to rest her nose against his shoulder. Very little wiggle room, hardly any to breathe, but at least they're cleverly hidden. Maybe the two of them will be lucky and any cops who might wander in won't have K9 units.

It takes a few minutes for advance units to reach the basement, but Arrow remains steady and silent. When three officers finally do pass beneath the vigilantes, Arrow waits a handful of seconds, then releases his hold and drops silently to the floor.

He stands, pantomimes brushing himself off, then looks up at Huntress expectantly before heading toward the door they entered through.

It is like one of the Keystone Cops movies although not through any fault of the police officers. They're just a bit outclassed by the archers who have found the perfect hiding place.

Once the cops are far enough past them she too drops and starts the sneaky process of leaving, her footfall quiet.

After they get out of the basement, Arrow takes them straight back to the roof. A grapple arrow carries a zipline down to ground level, which makes for an easy means of escape. Much as they came together, the pair parts ways with little fanfare. They might not have ended up friends, but at least they aren't enemies.

At this point Huntress just wants to get away from the mysterious archer, something about his demeanor having done a good job at removing any desire to work with a partner.

The zipline is eyed before she uses it to make with a hasty ascent, grateful for the speed in which it whisks her away from the school and into an alleyway where she ducks down behind some crates. Now it is just a matter of figuring out where to go from there.

You know what makes a great distraction? An explosion.

Still up on the roof, the Arrow fires a shaft down at an empty parking space in the rear lot. It detonates on impact, leaving a smoking crater in the pavement and attracting a great deal of attention.

The hooded vigilante slides down the fire escape and pauses next to Huntress. "That should buy us some time. Let's move."

The explosion happens far enough that there is nothing like the deafening volume or disorientating shock waves to deal with but even then Helena finds herself startling and instinctively ducking and putting her hands to her ears to protect them. Makes it easy for Arrow to sneak up on her. Good thing she knows how to muffle sounds otherwise he just might have gotten her to scream or something when he manages to sneak up on her.


A quick glance is given before she takes him by the wrist and pulls him down the alleyway towards an open door. Old buildings like these usually have storage rooms and the like added on as a part of them and they make perfect hiding places. "Come on," she grunts. Hopefully he won't argue with her or fight her or somehow make this difficult for her.

"Wait." And that'd be him putting up a fight. "We have to leave. The police are going to be here for hours. Maybe days. I'm not sticking around."

He frees himself from his counterpart's grip and turns away from the scene of their various crimes. "If we move now, and fast, we stand a decent chance of getting away. You coming?"

"Oh for fu… fine. I get it. You're the Alpha Male. Got to have it be your way or no way, right?" Rolling her eyes, Huntress turns to follow Arrow instead, muttering darkly to herself. But as much as she wants to curse him and maybe even try to kick his ass she is made to realize how right he is.

There are cops swarming all over the damn place and a tell-tale barking from a K9 unit comes from inside. They will need to hurry. "What's your big plan now, Einstein," she asks snippily, angry at the stranger for being right, which she's betting he'll be a smug fucker about once they get away.

The Arrow tilts his head to the side before he responds. "No need to be hostile. Hide in a hole if you want. I'm taking to the rooftops. Plenty of places to disappear if a chopper passes over, and nobody else will be looking up there."

Another arrow makes an appearance, this one with a multi-pronged head and a line attached to the shaft. When it's fired, it buries itself in the masonry near the roof of a building near their hiding spot. The free end of the line is attached to Green Arrow's belt, where a tiny rig winches it taut. Then he waves an arm and gestures Huntress closer. "MacNeil Ascender," he explains. "It'll pull us up. Don't know about you, but I don't feel like climbing it the old-fashioned way."

Ah. He does have a plan. Too bad it means that Huntress will have to put herself in close approximation of him to take advantage of it. There's no time to argue however, time being a commodity that's in very short supply and what they do have available to them can not be squandered.

Stepping beside him, the dark-haired vigilante wraps her arms around him in a manner that will make using the device possible without hindrance from her while still being tight enough to keep her from falling. "Alright," she grunts, "let's get this over with. Get us up there!"

The WHIRR and CHIRR of the ascender is almost loud enough to cover a chuckle from the Arrow. Almost.

In a handful of seconds the two of them are hauling themselves over the edge of the roof. The climbing arrow is retrieved and returned to its quiver, then Arrow ducks into the shadow of an air conditioning unit to wait out another pass from the helicopter.

"You don't like me very much," he says. It's not a question.

Quite a bit speedier than the method Huntress would've had to resort to, that's for sure. But it isn't exactly the stealthy manner in which she would have attempted to get up onto the roof. She'd say so but the ascent doesn't take long at all and soon the alley's several stories below them and she finds herself grateful for Arrow's resourcefulness.

"I don't know you to not like you," she grumbles while darting past him, her head turning slightly. But really? No, she doesn't really care for him even though she knows she should give the other some kind of fair break. "But let's discuss this after we're out of here, hmm?"

"It wasn't a discussion. It was a jab." When the helicopter has passed, Arrow steps out of his shadow and takes off at a run toward the edge of the building.

"It's obvious that you don't like me." Despite his pace, his voice is steady and even. "Which is fine. I need your approval like I need another hostage situation to deal with."

He pauses just long enough to vault over the narrow gap that separates them from the next building, then turns to face Huntress. "But I’m curious as to why you have the world's biggest chip on your shoulder."

Huntress wheels around, pausing in her egress to glare at him. "This is exactly why I don't work with others," she points out, the sharp retort paired with a slight sneer. "I do not need you to critique me on how I act or how I do things. I appreciate your help but… consider this partnership, impromptu as it was, revoked."

The Italiana turns around and runs, dashing towards the ledge of the roof to then launch herself off of it, using the stone-work as a springboard from which to do so. She should make it no problem as the roofs here are pretty close, the buildings in this part of the city close together.

"Sore spot?" Arrow muses. A dry chuckle slips from under his hood, then he takes off in another direction.

Within seconds, he's vaulted to a building of his own. He turns, lifts a hand in a lazy salute, then swivels back around in search of a new shadow to duck into.

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