[b]SIXGUN[/b]

At heart, Ben Brady was a simple man. His dress would be simple and unadorned, when he was finally done pretending to be Fletcher Ross. His favorite foods could be bought at any corner store. His weapons were low tech. His methods, even more so.

When the speedster flopped over in front of him, therefore, his reaction started before the man even began to reach for his knife. Sixgun possessed incredible reflexes, virtually the peak of human ability. The speedster was disoriented, badly wounded, and in a lot of pain, which would surely diminish his own reaction time. 

So, that made them about even.

He punched the speedster in the jaw. 

Ben was pretty good at punching, and he had fast hands. The man was already wounded, dulled by pain from the wound to the leg. Surely that'd make it easier to take him out of the fight. Just the same, he grabbed Argus and pulled the older man under the table, revolver at the ready.

"Listen, bud, Fletcher Ross is gonna do his humble best to get you out of here," he said. He peeked over the table, fired off a single aimed round at one of the tattooed Bratva goons spraying bullets all over the room. He immediately ducked back under the table, hoping no one was going to play a demented game of Whack a Mole with him. 

He grabbed Argus, pulled the man close to be heard over the crackling of gunfire and screaming. "Look, just in case you don't make it out of here, I need to know what you know about Legion. Somebody has to know!" he demanded. He thumbed back the action on the revolver, preparing to leave cover just long enough to let off another shot. When you brought six bullets up against automatic weapons, you had to choose your targets carefully. Two rounds left, then he would need to reload.

---------------------

[b]SONJA[/b]

"I'm not Fellowship, I'm independent," Sonja said icily. It was a sore point for her- she valued her freedom. She figured she had what she needed, and stood from the table, pocketing her notes. She walked to the door and let herself out. "She's all yours," she said to the man guarding the door. "I got the important stuff out of her, but pump her for every detail you can get. Even the smallest detail can help. Hell, Pariah taught you how to debrief people, you don't need instructions from me," she said.

There was a lot to do. She would need to talk to Thomas, no way would she take on Desdemona without him. Savant's help would be needed to navigate the lake. And of course she was going to have to do some fighting when they got there, she had to round up some volunteers willing to take on the spooky scary sorceress. 

"Sonja Simpson to the main lobby, Sonja Simpson, main lobby."

. . .damn. Of all the times to be paged by the clerical staff. This early, too. She once again used her telepathy. [i]Thomas, we need to start putting together an assault on Desdemona. Get Henry and start finding volunteers, I'll come help you in just one moment.[/i]

She sighed, teleported out of the hallway in a puff of smoke, materialized in the lobby. She glanced at the receptionist, who silently pointed off to one of the many armchairs strewn around the large space. A white woman in her late thirties sat in one of them, rising in greeting as Sonja approached. She was short, barely five feet in heels, though Sonja sensed calling her that would be a mistake. Petite might just be acceptable. As Sonja approached the woman, she could see that beneath the conservative suit she was extremely fit, possessing the sort of muscles you might associate with an Olympic athlete or weightlifter. "Ms. Simpson?" she said politely. "Pleased to meet you. Monica Wolff." 

"South County?" Sonja asked immediately. The woman had a definite St. Louis accent, she was from back home. Some people claimed they could tell the exact block someone grew up on just by their accent, Sonja wasn't quite that good. Encouraged by the other woman's nod, Sonja issued the challenge that was made whenever two St. Louisans met up, one outsiders just didn't understand. "What was your high school?"

"Ursuline. You?"

"Roosevelt." She smiled, indicated a sofa. The two sat. "What can I do for you, Ms. Wolff?" Sonja asked. True, she was still impatient to get to work, but felt she had to at least put on a show of politeness for someone from her hometown. 

"Please, call me Monica. I know you're a busy woman, and I'll get straight to the point. I'm here from the Barclay-Hoffmeyer Group."

That made Sonja sit up straight. BH was one of the richest, most powerful companies in the world, with a net worth that eclipsed the GDPs of several countries. Not to mention her employers. And this woman had driven up from St. Louis, where the North American headquarters were located. Something big was going down. 

"You're not in trouble," Monica Wolff hastily assured her. "Far from it. We heard about the riot, the other fights going on. That you lost members. Beatdrop and Bluegrass, a couple others. Eugene Barclay himself wanted someone to come up. The League does great things, but you can't do it alone. Barclay-Hoffmeyer is here to help."

Sonja leaned back. "Help how?"

"Financially, maybe. We can bankroll your projects and initiatives, we know your man Savant has dozens of blueprints for incredible inventions that are so far only conceptual. We have connections all over the globe, if there's trouble you don't have to hear about it on CNN, you'll be there already. Not to mention recruiting. We've been on the lookout for Awakened individuals for some time now, we can refer them to the League." Wolff smiled. "And don't forget, you're not our only superhero, our other regional headquarters sponsor some as well. Silver Arrow immediately asked if he could come to the US and lend a hand when he heard about the prison riot."

"That sounds like him," Sonja said with a smile. She had met Silver Arrow, Stuttgart's premier hero, on numerous occasions. She knew the energy manipulator better as Osman Sahin, a Turkish German and devoted father of four. A man who could be counted on to do the right thing.

"There's more," Wolff said excitedly. "Black Star, who works with our Japanese headquarters in Fukuoka, has expressed interest in working with the League. So has Aleph in Tel Aviv. African HQ says they have a hard time keeping Assegai from leaving Durban to come to Chicago. These are powerful, experienced heroes, Sonja, they could be a huge help to you guys."

"So, something's in it for BH."

"Merchandising," Wolff replied. "Publicity. Access to a unique talent pool. We both stand to profit. Sonja, I was hoping you could speak to the Founders on my behalf, convince them how beneficial this kind of partnership could be."

"I will do that," Sonja promised. "It sounds like you have a lot to offer us, I'll try to sell it to the team. Now, Monica, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot to do."

"Of course. If you need me, I'm staying at the Drake. Just remember, we're here to help," the BH representative said with a smile as Sonja headed back upstairs, back to the work of putting together an assault team.