9245/Dinah And Dimitri Defeat the Dastardly Death-Dealers

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Dinah And Dimitri Defeat the Dastardly Death-Dealers
Date of Scene: 23 December 2021
Location: North Pacific Ocean
Synopsis: Dmitri and Dinah successfully stop the bomb plot, save some refugees and capture the weapon trader vessel
Cast of Characters: Dmitri Pushkin, Dinah Lance




Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     A bitter frost hangs on the wind, as snow blows from the west in thick sheets of ice down on the briny depths bellow. The harsh unforgiving waters are on the edge of freezing in this part of the world with thick sheets of ice floating above the waves in large chunks scattered across the horizon.

     The thick snow provides perfect cover for those looking to travel. Perfect cover for a lone oil tanker: The Yellow Rose to make its way meandering along its path from one nation to the next.

     The flag on its mast belongs to the Russian Federation, waving high in the breeze though it's barely visible to the naked eye in these thick walls of snowfall. People mill about the deck armed with heavy laser weaponry massive backpacks hooked up laser guns capable of packing one heck of a punch.

     The word had gone out to Dmitri about this little shipment through his contacts at the Kremlin and Dmitri turned to the League for help as often he did, he wasn't about to try and take on an entire ship alone, and he didn't have the rest of the Rocket Red Battalion to rely on for support. No this job required just a bit more subtlety than 12 angry Russians in power armor all assailing the ship at once, for this particular ship was carrying a 50 megaton warhead somewhere on the ship capable of not only causing lasting radioactive damage to the region but also spraying its cargo of oil for miles in every direction should it be allowed to go off causing untold ecological damage.

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah Lance says, "Let's send Canary," the Black Canary mutters into her comms, the crackling voice reaching Dmitri's ears. Her voice is mocking in tone with just a hint of a fine whine. "I mean it's in the arctic. Let's send the one in fishnets." Her voice sounds like a mocking version of Wonder Woman. Then in a gruffer mocking voice she adds, "Makes perfect sense." Mock Batman.

Snapping back to the laser-sharp focus she needs on an infiltration mission, she quickly leaps up to an overhang and flips over to the top of it, exposed even more to the elements as a pair of goons rounds the corner and proceeds along the deck where she'd been standing only a few seconds before.

"You're going to owe me a good sauna after this," she says in her earpiece as, incredibly, even COLDER air blows over her, dusting her with freezing water flakes.

Also...

"Two goons. Do I take out or evade?""

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Ooh ooh me next, I love impressions" Dmitri speaks up over comms in that ever chipper tone of voice that never ceases to flow from his mouth whenever he speaks. "I never laugh at Dmitri's Jokes even though he works really hard on them." He says in a gruff voice grumbling into the microphone with heavily forced gravel.

     "Hey nothing feels better than a nice sauna after a dip in freezing cold water comrade Canary" It's like he takes genuine joy in everything he does with a song in his heart and a spring in his step. "You should try it, is called polar bearing. I will build mechanical sauna myself after we clear ship, how is that sounding?"

     He pauses for a moment still running areal reconnaissance through the cloud cover as he counts out the number of persons on deck.

     "It looks like they are having small break in patrol pattern, if you can drag them over to the lifeboat you should be able to get them out of view." He comments back over the coms system, in the background of his voice one can hear the theme song for the Rocky and Bullwinkle show. Apparently he's watching a 'new' episode. "Or if you are feeling murderous you could throw them overboard." He jokes.

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah Lance says, "Only one I want to murder is the one who put me on this assignment," Canary grumbles. "So lifeboat it is."

With surprising silence (though masking wind helps a lot!), she slips back down behind the pair. Almost frozen in her smorgasbord of ways to take out the pair, she finally copes with the paradox of choice and goes basic: punch to the base of each neck, followed by cracking skulls together. The soldiers go down like ninepins.

Swarming over them like a colony of super-fast ants, she strips them of their weapons, saving only two for later use, throwing the rest over the edge into the water, and then expertly zip-ties them in a hogtie.

She'd be a hit at certain kind of capitalist parties if Marx and Engels were accurate about bourgeois habits.

For the piece de resistance (French for "piece of resistance" -- no I don't get it either!) she takes the two weapons she kept -- hand grenades, and disarms them to leave them (mostly) inert, sticking them, sans pin, in each mouth so that should they awaken they'd seemingly have a powerful reason to not open their mouths. Then they get dumped unceremoniously into the lifeboat, Canary struggling with the built-up snow, then, afterward, quickly trying to replace it to not leave too much visible sign of her handiwork.

All this accompanied by a lot of grunting effort.

"Feel free to join me at any time!" she grumbles. "It's lonely down here and all my dance partners keep passing out.""

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The weapons fall overboard into the briny depths of the ocean bubbling away as they sink lower and lower perhaps never to be recovered again.

     The men go down with ease their bodies heavy but not unreasonable to drag. They fit snugly inside of the spacious lifeboat, far more room than one would expect for a ship that supposedly has very little in the way of crew.

     "Just finishing my last pass of the ship." Dmitri offers in a cheery voice chuckling at the episode of Rocky and Bullwinkle on his heads up display. Suddenly there's a streak of light through the air as something rockets down onto the deck just barely slow enough not to crack the sound barrier. Of course he's being careful this time around. He lands quietly kicking up snow in every direction as he lands fist first into the ground.

     Slowly he rises up to a stand walking with pure intimidation and determination in his massive suit of armor. He shakes his head and says for seemingly no reason."Oh Boris, and Natasha... never change." He chuckles to himself before cold cocking the armed goon who had been knocked backwards by his landing who was now laying on the ground cold and confused at the sudden presence of a member of the Rocket Red Battalion.

Dinah Lance has posed:
"If you've had your fun, could we please focus?" Canary says. "I thought the job was to sneak in, disable the device, and get out without detection? Or was it to watch cartoons and get into gunfights because we weren't paying attention."

Her voice contains enough acid now to melt steel.

"I mean I'm fine either way, but I kinda need to know which game plan we're going with."

A violent shudder wracks her body.

"Either way, though, can we get inside before I die of exposure like a Facegram influencer?"

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Ok, turning it off." Dmitri offers in an apologetic tone as he throws the body over his shoulder before dumping it into the nearby life-boat. He slides the man down into the boat with care beside the other two before offering to him. "Don't worry about her she's just cold." Making sure to zip tie the mans hands and feet together behind his back.

     Walking back over he nods his head before warming up the wrist mounted double barrel laser weapon of his which already begins to warm up the surrounding area somewhat. He aims it down towards the padlock on the door leading down into the ship and fires off a small burst of double barreled laser just enough to bust open the lock sending it clattering down into his hand.

     Dmitri slides open the door to one side and stands out of the way offering her a friendly. "After you Comrade Canary." Looking about the deck for any signs of more soldiers just waiting to get the jump on them.

Dinah Lance has posed:
With an eagerness that is unseemly (and potentially dangerous) Canary slips quickly through the freshly-opened door to get a taste of air that doesn't slice her skin off (or at least feel like it).

Just in time to walk into the cook, stepping out of the galley to her left.

The cook stares, wide-eyed, at the sudden appearance of a (to his eyes) barely-clad woman dusted with snow.

Canary stares, wide-eyed, at the person who was not supposed to be there while she was warming up.

The cook opens his mouth as if to give alarm.

Canary explodes into action, landing an elbow straight to the throat, hard enough to bruise the trachea, following through with a close-in punch to the solar plexus, forcing the poor guy to have to relearn the fine art of breathing as agony explodes in his chest up to even his eyes.

"There was a guy." Beat. "Was."

She then quickly enters the galley, looking hurriedly around for anybody else, before dragging the cook back inside.

"Clear."

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri takes his time pocketing the lock into one of the surprisingly many pouches hidden on his armor. He ducks inside and carefully pulls the door shut as to make sure that no one can tell that they took that route to enter the bowels of the vessel.

     He turns around just in time to hear the sounds of a scuffle further down the stairs and makes a dash for it only to find the chef being drug by canary. "Well I guess someone was not a fan of his cooking." He chuckles at his own joke before placing a single hand up to the side of his helmet. He looks around scanning the surroundings with thermographic vision, then switches through the spectrum looking for signs of personnel.

     He keeps his hand at the side of his head cycling through as he walks through the hallway. "Well good news is no signs of more people, bad news no sign of bomb either." He pauses for a brief moment before he levels his left arm in front of himself fiddling with the outside of the suit. Sure enough after a few moments it begins to give off the iconic crackle of a Geiger counter from his wrist. "We can soon be changing that of course." Still in ever the chipper mood.

     His feet carry him deeper and deeper into the ship as the pair enter into a wide open room in the bowels of the ship filled... with people. Men, Women, Children, all standing around with ragged clothing and a bitter hopelesness on their face.

     Several soldiers walk along the catwalks dressed in winter camoflauge uniforms carrying laser rifles in their grasp. They look on dead ahead ignoring the calls for assistance from the people down bellow.

Dinah Lance has posed:
"What the f...!?" The profanity is edited out by a crackle in the comms to keep the CCA stamp on the issue. "This doesn't look like a bomb to me, RR!" A dangerous edge enters her voice. "Bomb? Part of a day's work. But this looks like a slaver ring."

Mounting fury can be seen in her eyes and face as she surveys the scene.

"I'll kill the motherfuckers."

Flat. Dead calm. Dangerous.

"Not dead kill. I'll make them wish they were."

Ah, there's the actual Canary.

"Let's move...."

And without waiting for confirmation, Canary does what Canary does best: leaps into action without taking full stock of the situation, boots pounding on the catwalk as she explodes from concealment straight at a nearby soldier.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Alright I know the situation looks bad but maybe if we take a moment to think through and you are no longer standing next to me." And she's running off into action leaving Dmitri in the middle of his sentence as he just adds a bit of profanity of his own. "Oh drat, so much for stealth." which for him is some pretty harsh language.

     He lifts up into the air kicking off with a rockets red glare. He zip, zip, zips through the air with the greatest of ease flying over the ocean of people as he holds arms out to the side blasting off a series of low energy burst of light into the torsos of the men on the catwalk.

     The soldiers are caught completely by surprise as the two work into action. Canary's strike rings true sending the soldier flying backwards with a gasp of surprise. His gun goes off wild peppering the side of the ship with bullets and letting in the cold air.

     Gunshots fill the air from the soldiers slamming into the armor of Rocket Red as he spins around and around deflecting the bullets with care into the ceiling rather than downwards into the crowd. He's a thoughtful man after all as he sends more bursts of energy sending soldiers flying.

Dinah Lance has posed:
OK, so Canary is impulsive. But you can't fault her technique. The soldier is sent flying, laser rifle falling into the crowd below, before he can even make a noise more eloquent than a squawk. And when he crumples to the deckplate, her fist is waiting for his face and he's sent to sleepy-bye-land.

Then she kicks him in the gut.

Then she kicks him below the gut. Every man within an approximately 10km radius winces in sympathy, whether aware of the kick or not.

She's keeping her promise of making them wish they'd died.

"Look out Re..." Bullets spang off of Dmitri. "Never mind." Another group about to fire at Dmitri get for their trouble a taste of the Cry. A taste that gets very loud and echoic in this confined, metallic space, making the catwalks creak dangerously as their resonant frequency is hit.

She really should have paid better attention, however. The barrel of a gun taps the back of her head. "I think," the thickly-accented voice hisses at her, "that you must stay still now."

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Who is being strong and brave here to be saving American way." Dmitri sings to himself as he blasts one soldier after the next sending beams of energy flying in every which direction. "Who is vowing to fight like man, for what's right night and daaaay". He reaches the end of the catwalk slamming directly into a pair of soldiers with heavy lasers who had been charging up for a strike against him, only to get a pair of fists to the gut.

     He leans into the strike lifting them up high over his shoulders. "Who will campaign door to door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane?" He carries on as he drops the two men over his shoulders down conveniently onto a pair of beds within the midst of the crowd with their guns falling with them.

     Shots ring out from the pen where the people are kept as they use the laser weapons in order to blast open the doors with a loud ZZZRRT people beginning to flood out from the cages where they're kept unsure of where they are but knowing for a fact they don't want to stay where they are.

     "The star..." Dmitri slows down his speech as he turns around looking towards Canary. "Spangled...." He trails off a bit further on the word losing confidence as he looks around for some way to assist from his position. "Man."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"Uh, RR? This guy here would like us to stand still. Do you counsel, perhaps, not moving at all? Because acoustically you're in a really good place for sound to travel. If you moved away from there maybe you wouldn't be able to hear what's going on."

Canary seems, given her facial expression, to be trying to communicate something, but in very oblique code. Her captor seems to think so anyway.

"STOP TRYING TO TALK IN OBLIQUE CODE!" he shouts, in a thick Russian accent that is unaccountably funny to Canary as she tries and fails to contain giggling. "WHAT IS SO FUNNY!?"

"Nothing," she says, past a guffaw. "It's just you sound so much alike I can't tell you apart. I mean it's so bad if I attack you I might hit RR over there. Or vice versa."

She puts particular emphasis on the final three words. Wait, is she?

... No, she wouldn't!

... Her lungs fill.

... SHE WOULD!

Dinah Lance has posed:
"Uh, RR? This guy here would like us to stand still. Do you counsel, perhaps, not moving at all? Because acoustically you're in a really good place for sound to travel. If you moved away from there maybe you wouldn't be able to hear what's going on."

Canary seems, given her facial expression, to be trying to communicate something, but in very oblique code. Her captor seems to think so anyway.

"STOP TRYING TO TALK IN OBLIQUE CODE!" he shouts, in a thick Russian accent that is unaccountably funny to Canary as she tries and fails to contain giggling. "WHAT IS SO FUNNY!?"

"Nothing," she says, past a guffaw. "It's just you sound so much alike I can't tell you apart. I mean it's so bad if I attack you I might hit RR over there. Or vice versa."

She puts particular emphasis on the final three words. Wait, is she?

... No, she wouldn't!

... Her lungs fill.

... SHE WOULD!

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri at first takes what she's saying at complete face value seemingly not getting the point of her conversing. He pauses for a moment thinking to himself before he finally sees her start to swell up and realizes what's going on.

     So at the last moment he dives forward off the edge of the catwalk turning off his suits auditory sensors in the process. Just to make extra sure he holds his hands up over the sides of his head even though instead of covering his ears he winds up just holding metal gauntlets against the sides of a helmet. He pauses realizing how silly that is and slides his hands back down to his sides from his position on the ground.

     The Soldier however doesn't seem to get the memo. Maybe he's just bad at English and maybe he's just not that bright but he does lift his gun up to shoulder it in case she tries something. Never mind the fact that he's far, far from prepared for the something that's actually coming his way.

Dinah Lance has posed:
Good. He's frivolous and silly, but not stupid. Canary can work with that.

As RR gets out of the line of attack, Dinah lets out a scream. A focused scream that fills the upper half of the hold with sound so intolerably loud that it starts sympathetic vibrations in everything it touches.

Most things vibrate along a bit, but their natural resonance cancels it out so that they shake a bit and go quiet.

The catwalk, on the other hand, resonates together with her Cry, making it almost immediately start bucking like Galloping Gertie, the infamous bridge. Canary, ready for this, stays on her feet, clearly enjoying the ride. Her assailant, however, falls on his side, laser weapon still clutched in his hand, though.

Canary cuts off her Cry then, ready to stomp only... the catwalk, having taken too much abuse, snaps the supports holding it up, sending the soldier (and his laser weapon), Canary (and her foul mouth as she curses like a sailor), and, likely more importantly, a large piece of metal with jagged torn edges down into the crowd below.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri looks up from his position on the ground and watches the catwalk bob and buckle it's a sight to behold. He leans up onto one knee watching and waiting. Eyes narrow down towards the catwalk as it snaps from its hold sending a massive metal chunk careening down towards the floor bellow.

     He kicks off from the ground into a jump. Rockets fire off inside of the ship sending Dmitri zooming through the air. He makes contact with the catwalk catching it in both arms. Miraculously the enhanced strength of the suit allows him to hold the catwalk and the two riders. He looks up hovering in place with his vector-thrust rocket engines.

     "You know, that was maybe being too effective." He calls up to her as he slowly begins to lower himself and the catwalk down towards the ground. He speaks up in Russian to the audience gathered down bellow. "Out of the way everyone, out of the way." He lowers the catwalk down to the ground with care once the crowds part enough to allow him to do such. "You know Canary I think we make good team."

Dinah Lance has posed:
Given the limited space and time available, the catching of the catwalk is a violent thing. The catwalk buckled at the midpoint, sending the soldier sliding down one side, past the Canary (who barely manages to jump him like a hurdle before catching a guard rail and clinging on for dear life), and off the edge. One of the sharp edges of tortured metal slices into his arm, causing him to let go the laser rifle which clatters to the hold below, shortly before his person does.

He hits with a sickening thud, groans loudly in agony as his body processes a few broken bones before it mercifully shuts his brain down and unconsciousness claims him to its tender embrace.

When the catwalk finally lands, Canary rolls off of it and bounces to her feet.

"That was fun!" she says, cheerful and chirpy, looking around the hold. "Now ... where's the bomb and why do we have people? Asking for a friend."

Beat.

"And yes, we make a good team."

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri tosses the broken catwalk to one side with a loud clattering. He was expecting it to be a little less violent but not by far to be fair. He walks away from the debris holding his arm out straight before himself as he leans from one side to the other waving it about.

     "You know when I am figuring out the why's of the people you will be second person to know" Pause for a beat "the first being myself." Said as if he felt the need to explain himself and his actions.

     Dmitri waves his arm slowly before pointing it up the nearby stairwell he walks through the opening of the cage and into the stairwell following the guiding ticks of his Geiger counter to point the way.

     "If I had to hazard a guess?" He moves his free hand gesticulating in order to get his point across as he stops by a nearby door, the source of a great deal of beeping. "I would say they are how you say," He goes to snap his fingers only to realize once again that snapping ones fingers is almost impossible in a gauntlet. "making most of an opportunity." He sighs. "If you are already going to jail for running guns may as well run people as well you know?"

Dinah Lance has posed:
"I ... guess?"

The logic eludes Canary somewhat, but as she follows Dmitri along, keeping all her senses tuned for nasty surprises in the form of hidden assailants she decides to leave that aside. They still had a mission to perform.

The rising ticks of the counter make her frown.

"This is what it sounds like going through metal? That's got to be some fierce radiation on the other side of that. How do we, well, dispense with it safely? Do we call in Supes to toss it at the sun?"

Internally she sniggers. That's going to be her go-to tactic for big things from now on. Supes tosses it into the sun.

"Look, now that the activity is over, it's getting cold again. Can that thing find the air conditioning controls so we can turn it up to tropical?"

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri turns around on the spot looking down at his wrist in silence. He finally lets out a low "uhh" Before fiddling with it for a moment looking through the settings on his own suit of armor. He pauses for a few moments longer before stating quite apologetically. "No? But I can work on that for the next revision if you like?"

     He pauses for a moment longer. "And we can not be waiting on Comrade Superman to save us out of every situation, even superman has to poo from time to time." He nods firmly before swinging the door open to reveal a 50 megaton warhead just setting in the middle of the floor with a lone figure kneeling beside it to work on the device. He bobs his head along with the music in his headphones. He sings in Russian. "And every night, night night there is music, and every day day day there is love." He flicks around his tools across his wrist.

Dinah Lance has posed:
"I got this."

And there she goes again, rushing in with almost joy in her heart to dish out violence before fully evaluating the scene. Parkouring around Dmitri, Canary rushes to close the distance to the singing, bopping Russian.

As she approaches the singing nukemeister, her booted feet add just a bit of an ominously off-sync beat to whatever music he's listening to. Looking up at that, the man sees the thighs coming at him first, just before Canary launches a brutal kick, aiming for the midsection.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The kick lands on its target sending the poor Russian goon flying across the room and into a precariously stacked collection of paperwork. He slides down the collection of boxes still concious for just a moment before the offcenter collection of boxes topple over him clattering against his head with a heavy series of thuds and a quiet groan from beneath his impromptu boxfort.

     Dmitri moves his way into the room looking over the nuke which fills almost the entire room with its sheer girth. "A Tsar bomba in the flesh." He offers with a low reverence in his voice. The man runs his hand against the surface of the bomb rubbing its metal polish with his own metal gauntlet before finally shutting off his Geiger counter.

     Dmitri holds his hands up to the sides of his head for a long moment before an orange glow begins to encase the bomb in its entirety from the visor of his helmet. Apparently that little red line running across the visor was for something more than to make him look like a cylon. At first the bomb simply shudders before peaces begin to come loose floating in the air majestically as it seems to practically explode outwards into its base components floating circles around Dmitri.

Dinah Lance has posed:
"Uh ... like ... are you exposing ... plutonium?"

Dinah nervously backs away from the glowing sphere of bomb parts, red glows, and Dmitri.

"I just remembered," she says, eyeing the door and the path that leads her there quickest without getting any closer to bomb parts. "I have to be anywhere else right now."

Pausing a moment, she sighs and drags the technician by the collar as she starts moving to the door.

"You do you, OK? I'll go wait ..."

She waves vaguely and makes a dash for the door.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri doesn't speak instead just focusing all of his attention on controlling the suits machinations. He holds his hands tightly against his helmet and sure enough the parts begin to reassemble tighter, into a smaller and smaller container. He minimizes the open air on the project and sure enough after a time is left with a strange led device that floats down onto the ground in front of him.

     "Wait where did you go?" He looks from one side to the other. "A little radiation never killed anyone!' He comments as he looks back towards the door. "I swear it is perfectly safe comrade Canary."

Dinah Lance has posed:
Blonde hair precedes a masked face and blue eyes that nervously scan the scene.

"Where's the ... bomb?" she asks, skittishly prepared to duck back behind the dubious cover of the bulkhead. "What is your Geiger counter saying now?" she adds.

Still, she does re-enter. Dmitri is many things, her short association has told her. Child-like. Cheerful. Powerful. Weird. But he doesn't seem to be a liar prone to endangering others.

Boots clank on deckplates. "What is that thing?" she asks, pointing at the device in front of Dmitri. "And where did you put the bomb?"

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "This is nuclear powered toaster." Dmitri reaches down towards the ground and lifts up the briefcase sized object in his hand and hoists it up into the air with a fair deal of effort. After all there's a 50 megaton bombs worth of fisable material hidden withinside that device which he's just made out of an almost room sized bomb.

     "You put bread in top, radiation cooks bread." He jokes with an audible smile. "I do not recommend opening it however." He pauses for a long moment before explaining. "My suit has a form of technokenesis and technopathy which allows me to modify the function of a device and reassemble it accordingly." He pauses for a moment holding the device in both hands. "Unfortunately I have hard time using it to actually break things so much as re-assembling them."

     Dmitri begins to head towards the door. "Is something I work on regularly."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"..."

Canary blinks, staring at the device, trying to reconcile the huge bomb with the small thing Dmitri is holding.

"So ... that's the bomb?" she asks, showing why she's in the Justice League: can't put anything past her. "And you're ... going to toast bread with it."

League membership withdrawn.

"OK, so how about you take charge of the bomb and I go deal with the people?" she then asks. "I mean... that way you keep the radioactive thing away from them?"

She shoots a look to the door where the sounds of the people can be heard still, having now realized they're at last released.

"What do you plan on doing with them? Turning them into ... a blue whale?"

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Is made from parts of bomb." Dmitri confirms holding the heavy 'toaster' in his grasp as he makes his way out into the hallway. He walks along the hall back in the direction of the upper deck of the ship. "Them?" He motions towards the sounds of people. "I plan on informing interpol and allowing them to decide where the people will go. Most likely they will be returning to their homeland."

     "And this Toaster?" He pauses for a moment patting the side of the very dense device. "Will go back to the Russian federation where I will explain why it is no longer bomb."