[b]BEACHWOOD PLACE MALL[/b]

Despite the efforts of the heroes, more than two hundred clones were still standing. But not all of them were continuing to press the attack, not at once.

Some had found a home and garden store and began to pass out axes, shovels, crowbars, hammers, rakes and other improvised weapons among the Uprisings. Now armed with more than just naked fists, they advanced menacingly on Doyle, Tess, and Gwen. 

Other had chased down and grabbed whatever shoppers hadn't managed to flee. The Uprising clones worked methodically and silently, making sure that Phoenix and the other heroes could see what they were doing. Some crying, begging hostages were forced into a kneeling position, weapons raised menacingly over their exposed heads. Others were grabbed by two clones and dangled precariously over balconies. In all, the corridor in which the bulk of the fighting had taken place now had about sixty hostages in immediate danger. None were harmed beyond being manhandled slightly, but the message was clear.

Maybe it was courage or just fanaticism, but Uprising Prime had no difficulty in meeting Phoenix' stare. “Your move, folks,” he said, his remaining clones speaking in unison with him. “My brothers and I truly do not wish to hurt these people, but you've given us very little alternative. Sit down and surrender, and we give you our word that you will be released unharmed once that demagogue Kaganovich meets our demands.” 

The young anarchist winked, an action repeated by hundreds of other eyes. “Check and mate.”

[b]CLEVELAND METROPARKS ZOO[/b]

Mama Bear seemed nonplussed by what was occurring in front of her, particularly once the first person to confront her turned his gun on the second, but she did very gently set down her elephant gun. One of her Siberian tigers growled at Pulsecat, but Mama Bear soothed the animal with a gentle stroke of her fur.

“Alright, look, let's talk here,” the tall woman said calmly. “I'll concede that I am breaking the laws of man, but I'm concerned more with the laws of nature and basic morality.” She gestured to her train of animals. “These poor babies were being held against their will, they've committed no crime. It's my responsibility to look after them, alright? If you had been around, you would've busted prisoners out of Dachau-” 

Her self-justifications were interrupted by Quake's launched gravel. The throw was dead on, catching Mama Bear dead in the throat. She stumbled backwards, stunned, clutching at her throat.

But what Quake hadn't counted on was Mama Bear's link to her “babies”.

The animals didn't like it when someone hurt their mom.

The sound of hundreds of creatures, even normally quiet ones, roaring in berserk rage all at once was deafening. The bolder of the enraged animals attacked. An African bull elephant, trumpeting madly, rushed directly at Frankenstein. Dozens of smaller birds flew at Roger Sharp, blinding him with their wings and pecking at him, while a larger bald eagle attempted to snatch his revolver in its talons. Six snarling gray wolves began to circle Pulsecat, methodically watching for the best moment to strike. And Quake, the one who had actually attacked, received special attention. Mama Bear's personal bodyguards, the two Siberian tigers, rushed at her.

The other animals hung back, roaring their disapproval. Mama Bear regained her breath and began scrabbling for her rifle once more.

[b]WYOMING STREET[/b]

One of Acid Striker's thugs laughed in triumph as he held up a particularly large bag stuffed with cash. This haul was exactly as promised, one million dollars in new bills. A respectable take awaited each of them.

The bag abruptly disappeared out of the goon's hand, to reappear pinned to a doorway across the street. A fiberglass arrow shaft held it in place, still vibrating from the impact.

“Alright, that's far enough,” a strident voice called from down the street. 

“Somebody worked damn hard for that money. Put it back,” a second, deeper voice added.

Two men stood in the middle of the street, both dressed in stylized light armor, like Ancient Greek hoplites. One was small and wiry, armed with a longbow that was nocked and pointed at Striker. The other was broad and muscular, holding a massive, body-length shield made from space-age plastics, easily able to deflect bullets.

The Vlachos brothers, Teucer and Ajax, had no Caught or magical abilities. They did, however, both have multiple gold medals from the 2016 Olympics in Rio- Teucer in archery, Ajax in wrestling.  Born in the heavily Greek community of Campbell, Ohio, they had taken their skills to nearby Youngstown to do something about the mid-sized city's epidemic gangsterism and violent crime. It was a sense of duty that had brought them to Cleveland, and a hunch that someone might try to crack this Dunbar that had brought them to this street.

Teucer pulled back his bowstring, as Ajax began a cautious advance with his shield raised. “What's it going to be, [i]malaka[/i]?” Ajax called. “The easy way or the hard way?”