3827/Chop it up

Chop it up
Date of Scene:	15 October 2020
Location:	Abandoned Warehouse
Synopsis:	Choped the chop shop by Mr Kord.
Cast of Characters:	Wilson Fisk, Ted Kord

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Wilson Fisk has posed:
3:15 AM

Dark streets, bright lights. Good times, let em roll. That is something that seems to never happen in an alley, in the big apple. Down here in the warehouse district, the sound of metal, saw, smoke, burning rubber. Someone is going to work on something, rushed job.

The smell is coming from a dark warehouse, the sound of many voices inside. Loud Asian rap is filling the night, Japanese with a few gangsta out kids out throwing up hands, break dancing. It is a real party down here.

Ted Kord has posed:
Interesting thing about power tools, they have electric motors. They broadcast EM waves as they work. Now a sophisticated sensor rig could conceivable pick up the use of such tools, even differentiate between the types. A top tier computer system could cross reference such use with time and place to indicate a possible crime.

Out on the East River a pair of metal antennae twitch.

A moment later the Bug comes up from the water, fog machines and holo curtains activate and like a cloud it drifts towards the saw it locked onto.

Ted watches his monitor and hits the record buttons. Wonder Woman wanted to know how he handled things? He'd damned well show her. Above the city streets the Bug slows to hover. Ted watches. "I feel like Dick Tracy in the Space Coupe."

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The kids are breaking dancing to the fast rap song. They are throwing hands up. Losing themselves in the grove of the music, as they are breaking it down, one of them doing a handstand.

Ted can peer down through the windows as he is hovering over it inside, is a dozen men chopping up a BMW's 8 of them.

They are working with quick speed, seeming to be used to this work. On the wall is a large golden phoenix, taking off into the air with blood on its talons.

Ted Kord has posed:
Ted Kord admires the way they work for a few moments. Obviously pros. Obviously using their ethnic neighborhood for security. This is probably a big operation. BMWs need some careful fencing. Ted hits the camera zoom and gets a number of pictures of faces as well as a license plate. He thought this was a B&E but tis is much more interesting to watch. The tools fly, the torches sputter and cough as the precisely cut struts and other nonessential parts, the offal of car chopping.

"Hey guys," he calls sitting in the window like he just appeared out of nowhere, arms folded, BB Gun in one hand. Goggles still recording. "I admire your efficiency and precision but seriously, you could make more working for Kord Co or WayneTech or LexCorp. Didn't anyone ever tell you this? You got mad skills. Call me when you get out of the joint, oh yeah... put your fucking hands up! Now!" The gun is leveled at them. What'll it be? Thrown wrenches, power tools, a torch?

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The music is blasting. It is a deafening this close to the factory floor. But they are now looking up at the voice, as up comes pistols dark black death machines, 9mm military grade. The sound of quick Japanese, flowing out from inside now, as they are opening fire at the man on the roof.

The kids out front are booking now, as the sound of the bullets are firing up. They are not here for combat, they are lookout and they are going away with the force of nature.

Ted Kord has posed:
Ted Kord is out of the window and diving for the floor marveling at the guns the men produced so quickly. Bullets spang and whiz over his head as he returns fire from the floor. Only he fires light, about 3500 lumens in fact, enough to blind a man in broad daylight. His goggles turn black with each firing of the BB Gun.

A tactical flashlight puts out 100 lumens, enough to blind a person at night for several minutes. Three hundred lumens will blind a person in daylight. Thirty-five hundred will hurt you if your eyelids are closed. The reflection of such light off reflective surfaces can daze. Car paint is pretty reflective.

It will blind but not subdue. Ted gets ready to jump up and use the Mark One Fist. Fair enough, he ad good suspicion of a crime. He appeared and was threatened. He can bust their asses all legal. Or legal enough.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
They are shooting randomly, the sound of metal hitting empty chambers. The struggle to load while blinded, they are sitting ducks for the man dropping down into the midst of them. One of them takes a swing, going wide as he hears him by him.

Low-Level thugs are no match for this well-armed man."Kingpin said, it safe here. No-one bothers us, he owes us." The one in the back howls out in rage as he stumbles outside running now.

Ted Kord has posed:
Ted Kord wades into the thugs. Good engineers, crappy fighters. He's middling as costumed fighters go. But he can see for one thing. He hooks the arm of the thug who swung on him, flipping him to land on his head. He sweeps another. He yanks the empty gun from a third.

"What the fu... are you like twelve? Get out of here! It's a school night! Stay in school! Don't do drugs. Leave guns alone!!!" He punctuates each sentence with a dopeslap then shoves the kid towards the door a few of the crooks fled through. Some of them are still lying on the floor, some groaning.

Wilson Fisk has posed:
The world is quiet now, they are down and out or fleeing. It seems this chop shop got choped by Ted's expert hands. For once, everything is coming up roses for him! Too bad the video was mostly blinded.

Ted Kord has posed:
Ted Kord touches a control on his throat, "Aha! Now I have evidence on... someone named Kingpin. Possibly an evil bowling aficionado. Okay Bug, send video file to the police, edit out footage 22008 to 22345. Also put in a 911 call, shots fired through the usual ISPs." Some little old lady in Nebraska may just be getting a reward from Crimestoppers. "Ehh I got enough of that filthy green stuff now." The footage with him chastising the kid is cut. Maybe e'll be scared straight? He has some skills at least for an honest job. Ted pulls some zip lines out of a pocket for tying down the goons. Maybe he'll follow up on this Kingpin? Sounds important, but probably some whackadoodle with delusions of grandeur he'll never hear of again.