Not For Sale: Don't Take the Train

October 19, 2014: Sometimes, it's just a better idea to walk…

Grand Central Station

Located at Park and 42nd Street, Grand Central Station (properly known as
Grand Central Terminal) is the intersection of 67 separate rail and subway
tracks serviced on 2 levels. There's a Dining Concorse featuring restaurants
and fast food below the Main Concourse.



  • Rent-a-thugs
  • The FakeBI Lady
  • Three Gunmen

Mood Music:

It's Sunday morning at Grand Central Station — not exactly the busiest or most important time of day. In fact, it's relatively quiet, which is almost eerie thanks to the usual bustle of this space. The echoes of trains down tunnels speeding from one end to the other, however, breaks what could be silence.

A smattering of people here and there — some busking in the corners, others waiting for trains, mean that it's not a ghost town, even though it isn't exactly busy. A fellow plays the Saxophone near the map, emitting cool jazz through this end of Grand Central Station.

Susan Storm stands at the map, eyeing each of the routes highlighted on the map outside. She reaches out a single finger to trace a line from one end to the next. Bright as she is, maps were never her forte, and consequently, when she follows the pattern of routes, it's not in an organized way, and doesn't even help her.

With a heavy sigh, she shakes her head. She's never going to make it back to the Baxter Building or Future Foundation at this rate. Her lips pout irritably and she brings the cup of coffee she's holding to her lips.

She looks over her shoulder and flags down the nearest person, "Excuse me?" the blonde offers a soft smile as she treads towards him, "Can you help me? I'm trying to figure out which route will get me to the Baxter building — "

Who really knows why Agent Antoine Triplett is down here in Grand Central Station? S.H.I.E.L.D. knows. But then they know all of his movements. Right now, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is minding his business, hands in his pockets and simply either off-duty or on one of many covert operations. It could be a little bit of both when you get right down to it. And even as he just kind of stands idly by, collar popped on his jacket and wearing a helpful smile on his face to make him look different than the New Yorkers milling about right now, it isn't until the blonde hair catches his eye and he spins slightly to give Susan a big smile. He's always smiling. Weird.

"Hey. I've seen Labyrinth a million times and I still can't figure out how to read this thing." Trip wanders over to give a point at the map and make the conversation a bit less awkward with talking over so much open space. "If I were trying to get somewhere as specific as the Baxter Building? I'd go with Option: Taxi." Grin.

Kate has been spending a lot of time in Gotham lately, and while she enjoys driving, she's not as much of a fan of actually parking her car in Gotham. So that means she takes the train when she can. It also means that after a long night of looking for answers, she's just getting back into New York in those early morning hours, a gym bag slung over her shoulder. She doesn't need the map, but she recognizes the SHIELD agent, and even after a long night of work, she's curious enough to want to know who he's talking to, and why, starting in that direction.

Susan shoots Trip a soft smile followed by a nod. "Fair enough," she chuckles lightly. "I'm awful at the train. One of the reasons I try not to take it," one of the many advantages of being able to travel on invisible forcefields through the air. "But I need to give some visitors directions, so I thought taking the train would be a smart way to test it."

A rather loud echo, from down the Gotham tunnel (of all places), resounds through the train station. Susan takes a single step towards it and cants her head and looks in its direction. It's not really an amiss-sound. Those more familiar with this mode of transportation will recognize it as a train coming to a rather abrupt stop for generally routine reasons: like medical emergencies, things caught in the doors, or, at times, trains being ahead of schedule in order to better meet those moments they're supposed to make their stops.

"I'm not even gonna' front. Seeing you take the train would probably be the highlight of my day." Trip throws on the charm but only because he's trying to keep things as cordial as possible. He's got his attention tuned to high alert though and when a sound comes from down the tunnel, he's turning to look off in that direction. Which also gives him a chance to spot Kate. To which a smile and a nod is given, because he's not about to geek out right now about talking to Sue Storm. He really isn't. Even though it looks like he wants to. He then turns back to Sue. "If you want, we could just ride 'em all until we find out which one is the right one." He's got nothing else going on right now. Not really. Not anything he can talk about anyway.

Kate doesn't even blink at the sound from the tunnel, closing in on Sue and Antoine with a wry smile. "If you're going to ride all the trains, you'll be riding for days, you know," she chimes in, stepping up to the map and hitching her bag over her shoulder. "You can take a cab, if you don't mind the idea that the driver might rip you off. If you're asking for someone else, though, I'd call and hire a driver, flat rate. Or you can walk it, if there's not too much luggage. There're some neat places between here and the Baxter Building." Either she's been eavesdropping, or she's put some pieces together, but she doesn't seem embarrassed by either possibility.

Trip earns a bright grin, "Ride them all?" Her eyebrows arch upwards and she nods towards Kate, "That's what it looks like from the map." With a small shrug she looks between the pair and then repeats, "I guess hiring a driver isn't that big a deal." She pauses and then shrugs, "I don't really ever take cabs or trains." There's a pause. "I find my own way of getting around."

But any further discussion of transportation is interrupted by a few somewhat isolated shouts from down the Gotham tunnel. Sue's lips part quizzically at the noise, and she turns on her heel and points back towards the space with her thumb, "That seems weird…" her eyebrows draw together "…it's been years since I've done this regularly at all. Is that weird?"

"I've been trying to determine the difference between New York and Weird since I've moved here. Still working on that." Trip makes the comment but is also turning his attention towards the tunnel because it happens to be his job to make sure that people stay safe. That's what he does. That's what being an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. is all about. Protection.

And then he's pulling out his phone to check the dedicated S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite wi-fi encrypted connection to see if there's anything coming down the pipeline about anything going on at Grand Central. He might as well make sure everything is quiet on the S.H.I.E.L.D. front first.

Kate turns at the sound of shouting, eyes narrowing. "I just got off the last train, there wasn't anything weird back there when I got off…" But if Antoine's going in, then she's going in. She pulls the zipper back on her gym bag, though she doesn't take anything out just yet, following behind the agent. "Could just be something small."

There's a vague turn of Sue's lips as she traipses after the other two. The power of forcefields could be useful if something is actually going down. Her hands clasp lightly in front of her and she glances between the agents in front of her as she moves along, wishing she hadn't left the comlink Reed had given her at home. This was supposed to be a courtesy thing. Not an adventure.

Two rather large men step out from the tunnel, both dressed in security uniforms. To those in the know, however, security isn't a thing at the subway. Not this kind, anyways. The men linger on both sides of the entranceway, and one of them holds out a hand as the agents approach. "Hey, hey. Just doing a little clean up. Train is down for a spell," one of them offers easily.

Not seeing anything on his phone, Trip pockets it and comes out with his badge at the same time. How he manages to do both while still maintaining swagger and stride is one for the record books. "Perfect." Trip responds to the 'security' that seems to be attempting to stop him. He flashes the S.H.I.E.L.D. badge up, even while figuring this isn't going to be as easy as he wants it to be. But still. He should at least identify himself. "Because I've been sent to oversee the project. So let's see if we can't make sure you don't get fired today, hm?" Yeah, this is going to go south pretty fast. But he's hoping this stall tactic will give the others enough time to get ready for possible action.

Kate loves her bow, but it's a little bit obvious in the middle of Grand Central station. So as she sets her bag down, she slips a pair of batons out of it, tucking them into her waist band at the small of her back. "What happened?" she asks the faux security with a sunny smile, stepping forward as though to edge by in true, curious, demanding New Yorker fashion. "I just got off that train, everything seemed okay."

The man that had already talked watches Trip carefully and then shakes his head, but he sends a rather meaningful look towards his colleague as he does so. "Uh," there's a pause, likely too long to be anything but invention, "I… uh…" he starts again as he looks at Trip and then Kate in turn. His eyes linger longest on the agent in the front. "This isn't your… "

A female voice comes up from behind the men, "Jurisdiction," she purrs, finishing his thought. She shoots Trip a crooked smile. "FBI," she says smoothly, but doesn't produce a lick of ID. "We're just doing some clean-up." Her hazel eyes flit towards Hawkeye and then back towards Trip. Towards Kate, she soothes evenly, "You got off the line. Not this particular train. Confidential transport. I'm sure you understand."

Susan rolls her eyes. She strides away from them, around the corner, sets her coffee cup down, and then literally disappears — from sight at least — before rounding the corner again.

"I was kinda' hopin' you'd say that." Trip takes his sweet time taking a step backwards and putting away his badge. FBI. Please. The FBI wishes they were S.H.I.E.L.D.. In the midst of putting away that badge of his, he's turning to give Kate the 'go' nod, because in a swift movement, he's turning back towards one of the men and he's immediately leading out with a quick kick (so that's why he was backing up, for room) to try and plant his foot in this guy's chest. He just needs to buckle him enough that he can't fight back to easily. He's pretty sure there's going to be some retaliation, but the's got back up already on scene. Not to mention, well, Sue is here too. Kind of. In a way?

It's early Sunday morning at Grand Central Station, and for the most part that means it's quiet here. Kate sent Clint a text about twenty minutes ago saying she was getting back in from a trip to Gotham to look into something for a friend, and would he mind swinging by the pick her up? Of course, in the interim, things started getting strange. Odd noises from the direction of the Gotham train tunnel, and suspicious "security" and "FBI" who don't want to respect Antoine's authority as a SHIELD agent. Jerks.

As Antoine gives her the nod, Kate steps in closer to the guard she was talking to, pulling one of the batons from her back and snapping it across his wrist before reaching out to catch his wrist and pull him off balance.

Easy enough to park on the sidewalk outside Grand Central. With a couple of revs of the motorcycle's engine, Barton shuts it down, kicks the peg, and dismounts, pulling the key from the slot. The license plate says it all in terms of getting out of parking tickets, or rather, a little side emblem that looks quite a bit like the blazon of SHIELD.

Through the front glass doors, along the marbled floors, though he slides a little. Catching his footing, Barton checks his phone, checks the boards, and the phone again. Thumbing the screen, a text is quickly sent through, 'here. u?'

The man groans as he receives a boot squarely into his chest, falling backwards against the wall of the subway. His body crumples against the brick of grand central station, and, for a moment, it seems like he's not going to move — that he's going to remain a dummy of a human.

Unexpectedly, however, he shifts just a little, pushing off the wall to lunge at Trip's legs to knock the SHIELD agent down. Evidently, he's not just a rent-a-thug; he's an expensive rent-a-thug (when will these people know that they should just stay down?).


Baton meets bone and the security guard crumples as she grasps his wrist, and falls to the floor, but he reaches out to grasp Kate as he falls.

THUD. Cement meets security guard with another groan.

The woman who'd been speaking to them noisily calls into a comlink in her ear, "Move the train, now!" the instructions are not even close to being quiet thanks to urgency and, presumably, adrenaline. She turns on her heel to run in the opposite direction, back towards the line. Evidently Ms-no-ID-but-claims-to-be-FBI isn't sticking around to explain.


The noise can be heard from down in the Gotham line tunnel, loud, echoey, and definitely not normal, even if you only rarely ride the train.

Expensive Rent-A-Thug manages to catch Trip off guard, as Trip was expecting him to stay down. It doesn't happen that way and when he gets swept, Trip winces and rolls with it, immediately after his back hits the ground. This gives him a little bit of space to pop back up to his feet. "Go!" is said to whomever is still around to check out this person that is changing the plan down in the tunnel. "I got this." And then Trip is leaping at this Expensive Rent-A-Thug so that they can get into one of those cool choreographed fight scenes that happens in these instances.

Kate isn't quite fast enough to dodge the thug's grab as he goes down, but she has enough control with that grip on his wrist to come down on top, driving her knee into his solar plexus and looking up as her phone goes off in her pocket. "Clint!" she calls over, slamming an elbow up into the thug's chin. "Gotham tunnel, something to do with the train!" And then she's scrambling up off of her thug as Antoine claims the entry way, breaking into a stumbling run deeper into the tunnels. With the bag holding her bow left behind. Whoops.

Susan Storm rolls 2 on 1d3.


The sound that reverberates around the world.. er.. station.

Barton looks at his phone, down in the direction of the Gotham tunnels, his phone again and begins to jog in that direction. Shouts, and the movement of people -away- from the area-

It's when he hears his name yelled that he kicks it into higher gear. 'Gotham.. tunnel.. train..'

At the yell, Clint catches the last bits of fighting, and passes up the woman going the opposite way in preference for leaping onto the tracks, avoiding that third rail. He's on full speed without having had to take someone out beforehand.



The expensive rent-a-thug hits the pavement again, but he, like his comrade reaches for Trip as he does so, aiming to pull the agent towards him as he falls. By killing the space between them, he twists to gain the upper hand over agent Triplett to destabilize the situation and gain the upper hand.

Knee to the solar-plexus works well on Rent-a-Thug-2, and he stays down for the count, winded and uncomfortable. He grunts into his own comlink, "C..omp..any.. m-ooo.. the… pro..duct…" His hand grasps at his chest as he writhes in an effort to roll to his feet, but the pain only has him doubling over again. He gasps for air.

It's to both the Hawkeye's advantages that inertia is true of trains as much as anything else. Objects at rest tend to stay at rest. So even when the woman barks her orders into her comlink, moving the train isn't a simple feat.

Unfortunately, large thugs are not in small supply. Particularly for operations that involve large amounts of 'product'.


The vibration from the bullets that emit from weapons aimed towards the Hawkeyes is loud, echoey, and not alone. Three gunmen, some twenty feet away, spray gunfire towards the pair.

Two others aim towards the front of the train.

It's made more complicated when an currently not-all-Invisible-Woman armed with science and Force Fields is trying to hold it in place. Albeit not as successfully as she'd like.

Susan can feel the pressure of the movement as fatigue begins to set in. She can feel her body begin to go visible as she focuses, on holding the train in place, straining to keep it from barrelling down the track.

It might be hard to figure out if Triplett allowed himself to get yanked during the fall or if it just happened. But the training is there to assist him with making sure that he gets the situation under control. He's not going to be giving up the upper hand to some random thug, that's for sure. Trip twists as he goes down, moving with the momentum of the yank and relying on gravity to help him plant his elbow into the face of said thug as they head towards the ground. His signature smile is gone, waiting instead on the sound of bone cracking beneath his elbow.

The gunfire comes as a surprise to Kate, and she ducks and rolls across the floor toward the train as she tries to get away from it. Because gunfire is bad. And stopping the train is good. From the edge of the platform, she looks toward the others, trying to come up with a plan that doesn't involve getting shot. When she hits it, she rolls down to the edge of the tracks, starting to run down ahead of the train. "Heading for the track controls!" she calls back toward Clint.

The sound of automatic gunfire is deafening, and perhaps even moreso for a man with hearing aids. Gritting his teeth, Barton's just a little distracted not stepping on that third -electrified- rail, the train is so close, and he doesn't see where the gunfire is coming from, so it's just a little hard to gauge exactly where is safe to dodge.

In such close quarters, it's effectively point blank range.

"Stay do- goddammit!" Bullets riddle that area where Clint is running, and it's the leap up onto the back of the train, climbing to the top where he gets winged rather than perforated. Or at least it could have been worse than shattering an ankle-

A hiss of breath is taken and Clint pulls himself up the rest of the way, making sure he's low enough that he's not going to get his head lopped off by a low-hanging ceiling as he makes his way forward.

"I'm up!" he calls out to Kate.


The rent-a-thug collapses underneath Trip, all limbs as he falls to the ground. His feet press downwards in an effort to leap back up, but before he has an opportunity the Agent is on him once again.


The bone definitely gives way beneath Trip's elbow. The thug falls unconscious.

The other thug pushes himself up to a stand and stumble-runs towards the entrance to the station, finally managing to get himself moving again.

At the Gotham platform, there's a pause in one round of gunfire as they track the Hawkeyes as best they can in the relatively dimly lit station (evidently all things Gotham related are dark and dismal).

A very keen, probable-rookie begins to fire towards the train itself to beckon the pair out, only to receive a sharp kick to his arm from his female comrade. "Stop!" There's an edge to her tone.

The fellow on the controls cranks the power to the train all of the way. It's not safe by any stretch of the imagination, but when trying to barrel through a metahuman forcefield sacrifices need to be made.

At the front of the train, Susan can feel her feet shifting underneath the track. She's being pushed forward along with her forcefield. Her eyes clamp shut, and she becomes entirely visible now. Strain draws her eyebrows together, creasing her forehead, and tensing her muscles. Everything hurts.

Trip rolls to his feet now that he's taken down his fool. "Status." is said into the communication device around his wrist as he immediately spots another thug trying to run away and such. He's sure Clint & Kate'll tell him if they need him. Trip reaches down to grab his gun from his hip and brings it up, taking aim and firing a shot at the wall near the fleeing thug-escapist. Just close enough to make sure they understand they should stop moving. "I don't miss twice in a row." is said just loud enough to hopefully splatter some Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. intimidation flavor in the thug's direction.

Kate is running toward the front of the train, trying to get to a control center where she can throw a manual break stop, or do something a little more useful than beat up thugs. What Kate hasn't realized, though, is that someone else is already out in front of the train. Someone who's holding it back. With a force field, that doesn't actually differentiate between trains and young archers.

SPLAT. Running at full tilt, Kate slams into the edge of Sue's force field, and is promptly thrown back on her ass.

Okay, that ankle isn't pointing in the direction it -should- be, and it's making progress really damned difficult. Pulling himself forward, Clint slams his fist on a hatch on the roof of the train. It falls with a *clang* onto the floor, giving the SHIELD agent the chance to lower himself in, flipping over and landing with a *thud*. He's leaving blood trails (and lots of curses under his breath) behind him as he works his way towards the front of the train- car after car..

The bullet to the wall causes a bit of dust and brick to crumble near the Rent-A-Thug's head as he ducks forward. There's no way he can outrun Trip, not when he's taken such royal beats. His hands draw to the air and he stands still. There's a moment when he considers staying and not running — that much is clear, particularly when he seems to stop dead in his tracks. But then something implores him to try to escape.

He takes a few spring-steps forward, but these are fumble-steps, not the solid kind that actually progress the thug forward, but desperate movements of a creature caught in a trap aiming for survival. "He's gonna catch me and then I'm gonna — "


The sound of a gunshot from behind Trip comes from a very different source, the woman who had claimed to be FBI raises her weapon, but she doesn't zero it in on Trip.

In front of
ip, Rent-A-Thug-2 collapses to the ground while blood pools out of his head.


The second Rent-A-Thug, still unconscious on the floor receives a bullet to his brain. A parting gift from the supposed FBI.

She lowers her weapon, glances at Trip, casting him a flicker of a smile, and then breaks into a sprint down towards one of the other tracks.

The Gotham platform becomes sheer mayhem as Kate bounces off the forcefield, prompting Sue to frown as her hands stretch out to support the vehicle more. Her eyes clamp shut and she grits her teeth. "Can't… hold…" Her feet slide against the pavement underneath her on the tracks. She's not going to be able to keep the train from moving.


More gunfire ricochets off the forcefield, only stressing its invisibility more. But the shoot is haphazard. Unfocused. Possible, even, not quite trained.

With two thugs dead, Trip narrows his eyes at the woman. "Seriously? We're doing this dance?" He sighs slightly before giving a shake of his head and turning to give chase after the woman. He doesn't even put his gun away because that part is likely going to be important because that woman still has her gun out. "I don't appreciate you makin' me chase you on my day off!" is witty bantered off in the direction of the FakeBI, with Agent Triplett pouring on the speed to try and catch up. Next time, he's just going to stay at HQ and eat some damn Doritos.

Kate shakes her head fiercely as she pushes up from the ground, lucky to have missed the third rail when she went down. "Forget the field!" she calls ahead toward Sue, climbing up the side of the train to get a better vantage point. "There's an emergency break switch just past you there," she points down the tunnel. "Go pull the lever and the train's not going anywhere!"

The woman doesn't stop. She runs to the Greenwich village platform, arms pumping at her sides as she moves. "Then don't chase me!" she calls back, still sprinting, gun in hand.

She turns around and fires a few shots (very poorly without proper aim thanks to needing to run) towards Trip to slow him down. Yes. She still has her weapon.

Kate's words have Susan squinting. Her hands, still held out in front of her to keep the shield up, waiver a little thanks to the Force exerted against her and her person. A small stream of blood runs from her nose as she fights against the Force. She turns her head, just a little to catch sight of the emergency release. "Getting there!" she strains "Could be a problem!" can she get there quick enough? Gunfire ricochets off her efforts, and she eases up just a little to be pushes ahead towards the release. Hopefully she doesn't overshoot it.

Trip banks it to the left to make sure he's not getting shot. And considering the trajectory of the bullets, he's adding more speed because he's sure she had to slow down a little bit to shoot at him. He doesn't have much to say in response. Instead, he goes for the slow motion diving tackle that may end up with both his and her gun being off somewhere else by the time the collision is complete. Triplett is not about to let anyone involved with this craziness get away.

Kate heads into the train since she's not going up against the force field again. That went poorly. Instead, she pulls open one of the sliding doors near the front of the train, going inside to meet up with Clint. "So," she informs her bleeding comrade as she catches up with him, "There's a force field in front of the train. Slowing it down."

Not hard to catch up to Clint, nor is it too difficult to find him. Through the last door brings him to the engine compartment, and flopping down in the engineer's seat, he looks around for a button. "Okay." The word is drawn out as he glances behind him at Kate. "You telling me I didn't have to do..

"-this?" With the word, Barton's finger hovers over the shiny red button and pushes it.

Looking out the front, the shimmering not-quite-Invisible-one flickering in the front windscreen. His own eyes widen before he calls out, "Out of the way!"

"Oooof," the woman falls to the ground hard, her own gun clattering to the cement with the force of the fall. She squirms underneath Trip, fighting against his weight and her already-compromised position to break free, but he's larger than her, and already has the upper hand.

Her upper body twists, aiming to catch his cheek with her elbow as forcefully as she can manage, but she has been, rather effectively, brought to the ground.

And then the Force against her begins to give. Fatigue and strain have her muscles twitching with pent up energy as the forcefield drops and the Invisible Woman, quite visibly jumps away from the onslaught of the oncoming vehicle.

Even with the emergency stop activated, the Force that had been wanting to go somewhere lurches the train forward, causing it to rock on its wheels twice over.

Shots are fired in quick succession towards the Invisible Woman, who immediately goes, surprise, surprise, invisible.

Outside the train, the Hawkeyes can hear movement. Evidently, the three remaining gunmen intend to board.

"No, that was a pretty solid choice," Kate grins at Clint, taking up a guard stance at the door to the compartment. "I think the field was getting a little much to hold." She looks up and around at the sound of thugs returning, then eyes the door to the compartment. "I don't suppose you've got a spare gun? I sort of left my shooting things back on the platform."

Triplett doesn't have time to be dealing with this struggling woman. He takes the elbow to the face and that just makes him do what his mama taught him not to do. He cold-clocks this woman right upside her head in an effort to make sure she goes out like a cheap light in the middle of a New York Blackout. With that done, Trip brings his S.H.I.E.L.D. wrist comm back up to his lips. "Let me try this again without the terminology." He immediately starts patting down the woman to see if there's something on her person that'll help him identify this entire issue. "You guys alright?" HAWKEYES.

Clint looks up and grins, though it doesn't quite reach those eyes. "I thought so too." Reaching around, he pulls his carry weapon out, spins it around deftly with one hand, and hands it to Kate, grip-side facing her. "Safety's there. It's made for a leftie, though." Just in case she didn't work out the obvious. "I'm not running anyone-

"We've got unfriendlies."

Clint makes a dive for the floor, and limp-crawls-hops with the single good foot out into one of the carriages. "If I can find something to throw—" Beer bottle. They work, and they work really well, too. Glass hurts AND it breaks. "Score!"

Clint doesn't have his super, Dick Tracy wristband. He's off-duty, dammit! What he does do, however, is pull out his phone and hits a number in memory, and sends a text to, yes, Trip. Through the SHIELD switchboard.

3 baddies. pls aim.

Clocked and out cold, the woman collapses, no longer struggling against Trip's efforts. You are now in possession of a deranged woman not wanting to leave too much evidence. Enjoy!

The three assailants, shift outside. The door to one of the cars, just adjacent to the Hawkeyes, is pried open, creaking as it moves and causing reverberation throughout its two adjacent cars. Strong booted feet indicate someone is inside.

A splatter of blood, spat out from nowhere lines itself on the pavement near the front of the train.

"I figured out your bow, I think I can handle the gun," Kate assures Clint, flipping off the safety and peeking around the door to the rest of the train. "Hey, let the agent out there know we're alive in here and maybe we can, you know, not die waiting?" Because apparently she didn't catch the text out there. "What's his name anyhow? He seems like fun. Like you guys haven't had a chance to crush the life out of him with suits yet."

There's this part where Trip zip-ties the woman up and then he's already moving off towards where the train is no longer moving so that he can try to assist with everything else. The buzzing of his phone has helped him realize what is going down. He's got his gun out, still, and he's approaching the stopped train with both speed and caution. Specialists can do both! "Hey! United Arrow Brigade!" Trip reads files. He knows about the archery skills. "I think you better get out here!" He's not even sure what's going to be going down but there's a door being pried open and that's usually never a good thing.

"Yeah, he knows," is grunted back. Damn thing really does hurt, now that the shock's worn away a little. Clint's waiting for the moment the heavily jackbooted thug is close enough before he wings the found bottle at the guy's head, aiming right between the eyes. May not be a bow, but damn, he's good with throwing things too. Never misses at darts, at marbles… and he's always coming home with a stuffed animal from Coney Island.

Clint -would- yell back, he would… only it'd give his immediate hiding spot away. Not that he didn't do it by flinging the bottle. "Kate, you got this!" Nothing like taking attention away from the girl with the gun.

"Yeah, I know him." Mostly. "Name's.. uh.. can we please pay attention.."

Okay, where's another bottle?

The blood trail leaves little to the imagination of the gunman on the train. Yet he doesn't follow after it. Instead, he treads in the opposite direction, weapon still drawn, to collect something else.

The large-ish crate marked FISH seems unlikely on the train. While its weight isn't so cumbersome that he can't manage it all on his own, it would be a stretch to say that it's easy for the large man to lift. In fact, he has to drop his weapon to do it.

The clang of the gun hitting the metal floor of the train resounds as he shifts with the crate back to the pried door.

One of the other two gunmen remains outside the door of the train, waiting for his comrade to come out with the crate.


The third fires a shot towards Trip, not to shoot him, but certainly to keep him away.

"I'm paying attention. Why, aren't you paying attention?" Kate asks Clint, leaning out to fire a shot only to find there are no gunmen waiting for her. "Uh…think they've gone for cargo," she calls back to the other archer, shifting the gun to a ready position and starting to jog down the train. She's not exactly a trained military professional, so she's not actually checking every corner as thoroughly as she ought to…on the other hand, at least it lets her move faster?

See, why they gotta' shoot at the brother?! See, this is just uncalled for. And has Trip dodging bullets. Unlike these gunmen, Trip doesn't take shooting at people lightly. He's trained to shoot to kill. But in this particular case, he's aiming to shoot right for the leg. Or something like that. He doesn't have EPIC ACCURACY, like SOME PEOPLE, do but he's good enough to put somebody down without killing them. He only fires a single shot. And one that should hit that gunman right between the uh, well, skin?

The beer bottle to the head has the crate-man freezing and then collapsing to the ground, falling on top of the crate as he does so. His body is reduced to an unconscious mound of human on top of the FISH crate.

Yes! Down he goes! Hawkeye scrambles to a limping stand, and trails blood as he makes his approach. He's got a gun now, and with a swift kick in the head, he's going to make sure the guy isn't getting up again. Of course, it's with the *BAD* foot that is barely holding on. Jumping up and down, Barton is in turn swearing and… "Goddammit..owowowowow.. dammit..owowowow.."

Kate's move ahead, however, is a thing which Clint has to support. She doesn't know clearing tactics or techniques, so he defaults to 'death to anyone who even breaths wrong in Kate's direction'.

"What.. what the hell?"

The single shot catches the gunman's hand, causing him to drop his weapon and bend forward in pain. Because getting shot doesn't feel good. IN fact, it burns, pinches, pricks, and bruises all at once — so it really doesn't feel good.

That leaves only one fellow left. Who, unsurprisingly, raises his hands into the air. "I surrender!!!" he sputters quickly. "I… I surrender! If I had a white flag I would raise it!" Guy states as he releases his gun and kicks it towards Trip. Because he's not going down for this.

"Can I say it, Clint? Can I say it looks like there's something…fishy going on here?" Kate would totally flip down her sunglasses, but she at least knows enough that she ought to be holding the gun with both hands. Even if the sunglasses would totally make the line.

Since AGENT TRIPLETT is the only one that holds onto a comm even when he's off-duty, Trip walks towards the giver upper and also calls for some S.H.I.E.L.D. back up. "This is Agent Triplett. We've got a situation at my location. Requesting a clean up crew and … just send everybody you got, man. Because it is nasty down here. And it smells like fish." That's Trip calling for back up. "You guys alright?!" HAWKEYES, he's talking to you!

"Oh hey, good catch, Kate." Not to be outdone by his protege, Clint's still got 'it', even if his ankle is pretty much shattered. Allowing himself to slowly fall to the ground, he sits slumped before putting the gun down and to the side. "Um.. you know, Kate? Should probably call someone to lock the site down."

And going to the hospital or infirmary would be good too. "I can just see the looks on their faces…" is mumbled.

"Just peachy!" is called out by Barton. "Though really would like to request transport. Not gonna be able to ride the bike back!" Or drive. Or walk. "Not in the mood to take the train!"

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