[b]CLEVELAND METROPARKS ZOO[/b]

Eradicator and Quake had a solid enough reputation to convince the first responders. Now better appraised of the situation, the Guardsmen trained their rifles on Pulsecat and her men.”You're coming back with us, at least until we can figure out what's going on,” a noncom announced. “At the moment, it looks like you might be charged with accessory to murder and grand larceny. If you and your men don't surrender immediately, this could get ugly.” The soldier was right, this standoff had the potential to spiral rapidly out of control.

They Guardsmen remained wary, still keeping their eyes on the unknown but less immediately threatening on scene- Drake and Frankenstein especially. With everything that had happened in the last twelve hours, they were unwilling to take chances.
[b]
WYOMING STREET[/b]

Ajax cringed, holding up his dissolving shield for the last time as Striker plunged the blade home. It was too damaged to do him any good, though- his mighty shield melted like butter. His armor offered very little resistance, either. Ajax Vlachos screamed once, loudly, as the attack ate through his torso, before going limp and falling to the roadway. 

Youngstown's other champion stared in shock. “You killed my brother, you son of a bitch!” Teucer screamed in fury, firing arrow after arrow at Acid Striker. 

[b]THE PARKING GARAGE[/b]

Mythica did not have long to wait before the roar of powerful motors announced the arrival of the man he was meeting with. Firstly came several tough-looking bikers, all beards and leather vests and sawn-off shotguns. Their roaring Harleys were followed by a small fleet of high-class SUVs. These parked to disengage a good number of better-dressed but no less dangerous thugs.

Finally, once they had convinced themselves of the place's safety, the small army of goons gave the okay for the man they were guarding to leave the safety of his vehicle. Dennis Lynch looked like nothing so much as a family doctor- jovial, with receding hair and a comfortable suit. But his high forehead and piercing blue eyes betrayed the malevolence and intelligence that made him truly dangerous. Starting out as a small-time thug in Cleveland's Irish mob, Lynch had risen to the very top of organized crime in Ohio. More than just the Irish answered to him- the Italians, bikers of all stripes, Polish, Hispanics, neo-Nazis and African-Americans all looked to him for guidance. Even without powers, his resources and wealth made him extremely dangerous- Miss Understood and Pokerface had spent the better part of two years fighting him. He had been given a respectful name- the Chairman.

“Hi there,” the Chairman greeted Mythica with a broad grin. “Sorry about all these guys, don't think we don't trust you. Can't be too careful. I only got busted out last night, never know when the cops or the capes are going to burst in.” He smiled at the other man's cigarette, pulled out his own pack. “You know, I could get these in prison, no problem. But there's something rewarding about being able to go down to the corner shop and buy a pack of coffin nails for myself. I ain't going back in. I value my freedom.”

Lighting his own cigarette, the Chairman looked Mythica square. “So let's talk business. I got money, you got something to sell that lets me go toe-to-toe with the capes. Sounds like a win-win to me. What are you offering?”