MSBogatyr
Posts: 14
(6/13/04 10:16 pm)
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Footpad and Witch Engine in: Nervous Ticks
The Footpad knelt by the wall on the upper floor of the warehouse, his fingers gently twisting the knob of the safe in the wall. It seemed like decades since he had cracked a safe, though in truth it had been little more than three years. His eyes narrowed as he willed the old knowledge to come back to him...
He winced as a chorus of clangs echoed up the stairwell behind him. "Dammit! How do you expect me to do this with all that racket?"
"What???" Witch Engine shouted up the stairs as her fists thudded into the Assembler Prince like ebony jackhammers. "Can't talk now, too many Clockworks! Hey, where do you think you're going?"
The sound of crackling electricity and the smell of ozone filled the air again as Footpad returned to his work. He knew he'd have to work faster. Witch Engine couldn't hold the stairwell forever against the minions of the Clockwork King, the twisted being who had made an enemy of the Footpad without even knowing it...
* * * * *
Mark Freeman stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So the Lost kidnapped this cop because he double-crossed them?"
"That's his story," Footpad nodded. "Apparently they bribed him to divert police presence while they robbed a munitions factory. But he either got scared or had an attack of conscience and tipped off the Ascendant. They were about to sink Officer Hinton in one of the storm drains when I found him. After hearing his story, I was half-tempted to sink him myself."
"It's a shame when a decorated officer goes bad," said Freeman. "But his punishment is for the city to decide, not you or me."
"Fair enough. Any other jobs for me?"
"This news of the Lost worries me. A scheme this well-planned isn't something I'd expect from them. I wonder if they have anything else planned for the near future."
Footpad tugged at the brim of his duster. "And you'd like me to ask them? Politely, of course."
"Nice of you to offer, Footpad, but...there's a favor you could do me, if you're so inclined."
Footpad cocked an eyebrow and waited for Freeman to continue. It was rare for a contact to ask a hero for assistance in personal business, though not unheard of.
"A friend of mine was robbed by the Clockwork a few days ago. You must have seen them running around the city."
He had. The little monstrosities seemed to infest the city, grabbing any piece of metal they could find in order to construct more of themselves. Footpad had been dozing under a tree in Atlas Park when one had tried to make off with his rifle. He'd given it a dose of buckshot in the backside and sent it off squealing. One night, he and Rimfire had lounged on a rooftop in King's Row drinking White Russians and shooting at Oscillators as they flew past carrying whatever metal they could scavenge.
"Manny worked construction before the Rikti invasion. He lost both his legs when a roof collapsed on him while he was getting some of his co-workers out of a building that was under attack. The Clockwork took everything they could; picture frames, cutlery, even his wheelchair!"
A frown lurked behind the Footpad's scarf as Freeman continued. "They also took the track trophy Manny won 15 years ago. It isn't much to look at, but it's what kept Manny going after he lost his legs. Manny crawled to his window and saw the Clockworks entering a warehouse at the King Garment Works."
"What's the number of the warehouse?"
Freeman let out a small sigh of relief. "18-A12. Look, all Manny wants back is the trophy. Insurance can replace the rest. That warehouse is crawling with Clockworks, so get in, get the trophy and get out. I don't want a hospitalized hero on my conscience."
"Smash and grab, eh? All right, we'll do it your way. I'll have it back to you before nightfall." Footpad tipped his hat and headed for the tram.
* * * * *
When he'd been stealing objets d'art and industrial secrets throughout most of Europe and Asia, the Footpad had worked alone, for the most part. Partners could have such nasty habits like betraying you, getting caught and needing to be rescued, or wanting a share of the loot. It wasn't until Footpad had come to in a Paragon City hospital, aching from a beating administered by a group of angry Skulls, that he began seriously considering taking on partners.
Most teams wouldn't take a chance on a (reformed) professional thief, but then, most teams weren't led by a nuclear-powered supervillain from the 1950s. Black Atom had merely scowled and grunted during the initial interview, then demanded to see his marksmanship and look over the blueprints for some of the devices Footpad had designed. Atom then nodded, growled "Adequate", and put forward a motion that Footpad be given probationary status. That was three months ago.
Tracking down a trophy in one of the Clockwork's scrap depositories wasn't going to be simple. Odds were that there would be some unavoidable combat inside, and Footpad wasn't foolish enough to think he could take on a charging army of Clockworks alone. He'd need some muscle to back him up, someone who could give the Clockworks something to shoot at while he grabbed the goods and picked off the weaker targets. Someone who was supremely unconcerned about their own well-being and wouldn't think twice about diving into the steely jaws of a Clockwork stronghold.
One name came immediately to mind.
Footpad didn't know much about the Witch Engine. From what he'd picked up from other members, she was at least partly mechanical, extremely old despite her girlish appearance, and had some connection to ancient Egypt and the 5th Column. She also had fists like sledgehammers and the reckless abandon only given to a person who can grow back limbs without too much trouble. Perfect for the job.
He found the Witch Engine in Steel Canyon, pummelling several Tsoo enforcers within an inch of their lives. One broke and ran, clutching his bruised face. Footpad calmly put a narco-bullet in the back of the enforcer's leg, dropping him dully to the pavement. He looked over at the smiling girl, the cuts to her arms and shoulders already vanishing as if they'd never happened.
"Fourth time today!" she crowed. "These guys really know how to hold a grudge! I mean, all I did was break up an artefact ring worth 4.1 million dollars and wreck two of their biggest drug labs!"
"Yes, of course, hardly worth fighting over at all," Footpad replied. "At any rate, if you're not busy I could use some assistance in King's Row."
"Sure, why not?" Witch Engine grinned as she stepped over a groaning Tsoo. "These guys are starting to get on my nerves anyway. What's the deal?"
"We have to break into a warehouse, find a single item in a mountain of metal, and get out again in one piece."
"Hmmm. What's in our favor?"
"Your fists and regenerative powers. My gun and gadgets. And they don't know we're coming."
"Who's the opposition?"
"About forty Clockwork robots programmed to destroy any organic entity that attempts to remove items from the warehouse."
Witch Engine smiled. "Sounds like fun."
TO BE CONTINUED
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