Owner	Pose
Brian Braddock	The summer is creeping in, and it's going to be a warm one. Cliffs block off this section of beach from normal public view, and most folks don't come all the way down here. The boardwalk is about half a mile of the beach, providing carnival games, food and rides. Here, though, is mostly silence. A large, 18th century estate perches on the cliff above, but it looks like the stairs coming down the side of the cliff have been damaged, and are finally finishing getting fixed. Brian wipes sweat from his brow as he steps back, finishing hammering in the last nails. The large man is dressed in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. He is in ridiculous shape, really. He hums softly to himself, an easy smile on his face as he tosses the hammer up and catches it.
Martinique Wyngarde	Martinique Wyngarde is working. Yes, even today, she's working. No heavy, dark, hot trenchcoat over her body, but just something much lighter, and more breathable, sot hat she can still keep her firearms out of view. Sunglasses on, she steps onto the beach. Walking down the boardwalk, her eyes are open as she scans for her target.
Brian Braddock	Having finished on his stairs, the man makes his way along that stretch of beach. he eventually ends up at the boardwalk. The large man draws looks, certainly, but he simply replies to them with an easy, friendly smile. The crowd mostly parts for him, though he is polite enough to let folks pass before he does, when needed. He steps up to a vendor and fishes out his wallet. "Lemonade, please." His voice is deep with a crisp British accent. He pays for it and glances aside, spotting the shaded Martinique and offering her an easy smile.
Martinique Wyngarde	Martinique Wyngarde found her target. It's a man in his early 40s in a pinstriped suit, walking with two huge goons keeping a close eye on him. Very stereotypical. Martinique slips a hand into her coat, finding her weapon discreetly as she starts circling the man. Watching his every movement, as well as those of the goons.
Brian Braddock	The mafioso type isn't hard to miss, especially here. He is a perceptive man...and a genius. Spotting the woman circling the mafia type isn't impossible for him. He furrows his brow a bit and glances about at the various innocents. He doesn't know the story here, but he does know that he doesn't want innocent people to be hurt. So, holding his lemonade still, he moves over to the railing of the boardwalk and points to the sea, calling out loud enough for the nearby folks to hear. "Ooh! Whales! There are whales!" Most of the innocent people move quickly over to him and peer out, removing them from the possible violence behind him.
Martinique Wyngarde	Martinique Wyngarde looks at Brian a good, long moment. That's an odd reaction. He obviously saw... but whatever. So, she makes her move. In the minds of the goons, there is the clear and definite idea that Martinique is going to put on a show of some sort, and they're looking at her now with the idea that her coat is coming off any second now, and she might even be naked under there. But what she really does is step right up to the old man, putting her body to his. Which...startles then thrills him. What he's too distracted by her body to notice, si her putting a tracking chip onto him. Whereer his safe house is, she' sgoing to know it." "Excuse me," she mutters, before walking off to stares.
Brian Braddock	Well, that went better then he figured. He expected gunplay and death. This IS Gotham, afterall. The tall man turns to watch Martinique disengage from the boss and he cocks his head to the side a bit, watching her. He takes a sip from his lemonade before he slips back through the crowd and begins to slowly, idly make his way after her.
Martinique Wyngarde	Martinique Wyngarde isn't afraid of gun play and death. What she's afraid of are unnecessary witnesses who can see her put back into prison. Better to ambush where people are NOT looking. So she walks away, glancing again back at Brian, seeing where HE's looking. Being followed, she walks up to a stall along the boardwalk, then yells out to the crowd the same way he did. Only she yells, "GUN!" Abruptly it's chaos. People moving in all sorts of directions, blocking Brian's vision, making it more difficult for him to follow. She for her part uses the moment to swipe a soft pretzel, then ducks around a corner to try to get out of sight.
Brian Braddock	Well, that was clever. He is caught up in the crowd. He is taller then everyone, but it still blocks his vision enough for the curious woman to escape. He furrows his brow a bit and glances about before he shakes his head. He chuckles softly top himself and brushes his fingers over his mustache. He finally shrugs his muscled shoulders and starts the slow walk home.