2012 02 02 Joey And The Pragmatic

Log Title:
Joey and the Pragmatic

Misty Knight and Tony Stark

IC Date:

Harbor, New York

Brief log summary::
Misty get's tipped off to a potential robbery at a Stark warehouse, notifies Tony, and the two foil the attempt.


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Ear to the ground, that's what the ladies of Nightwing Restorations do; particularly Misty, who seems to work tirelessly. A theft of atomic material right after helping Night Thrasher stop gun-runners is a set of circumstances she doesn't like.

So after a few days of listening, shaking down contacts, and greasing the palms of her favored contacts, she's found herself here — on the waterfront, waiting and watching for a shipment to Stark she expects someone to try making a grab for. She is hanging out in the shadows thrown by another warehouse a few piers down. Just for the sake of thoroughness, she fires off a quick text to a number she knows gets routed straight to Tony Stark himself: Possible attempt on your loading docks tonight. MK.

And then it's back to being the watchful eye, with the Hudson Hawk blowing its icy air daggers straight off the river itself.

There are many possible responses to a warning along those lines that Tony could make, but at least for the moment he chooses to be relatively discreet. Driving out in a car that won't stand out like a total sore thumb in this neighborhood he pulls up near where Misty's set up shop on her surveillance and gets out of the car. Apparently he's still getting driven around, as he gets out of the back seat and leaves the door open, there's no light from inside the car so it would seem he's disabled it. Then the billionaire's flashing a smile in Misty's direction and glancing towards the warehouse across the way a moment later, "I got your message, Misty, thanks. How're you…and how's the arm treating you?"

Misty is surprised that Tony came all the way out here himself. But the only outward indication of it is a slight widening of her eyes and a faint curling upward of her lips. "Evening, Tony," she greets him with a smile, as she walks to meet him halfway. "I'm good, thanks, and so's the arm." She gives it a brief flex to punctuate the point.

"Couple of contacts told me there'd been some buzz. Sounds like the usual. Small-timers looking to get the attention of the big dogs. Hopin' they come up with somethin' they can sell to AIM or to who knows who." She favors him with a smile, her usual afro hidden under a dark watchcap to decrease her recognition factor. "Felt like you needed to give your employees at the dock a surprise inspection, did you?"

Tony Stark stops after getting close enough to Misty that they can talk quietly, the nearly patented smile on his face remaining there despite the more .. serious set to the rest of his features. He looks across the street once again at the warehouse, "Depends, really, on what you think's likely. I'm tempted to let them get started enough that I can tell what it is they're after and what particular weakness in my security they think they've found. " He looks back to her, shrugging, "If they're really small time, it'll also be more than a bit amusing to see them /try/."

Misty shakes her head and smiles affectionately at Tony's idea for handling the potential theft. The things the rich find amusing. "Haven't seen or heard anythin' in the news that'd make me all that concerned. But you know how the mad science types are. Using parts for things they never were intended." She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Looks like you won't have long to wait."

The warehouse currently being licensed to Tony's company has the lights go out around it. Which would indicate either they've got somebody hacking Con Ed, or more likely, they're at least serious enough to have cut some power lines to the block. The latter proves to be true as a couple other buildings go dark as well — lending plausibility to the idea that it was some simple blackout that New Yorkers can write angry letters to the Bugle about.

"Here comes showtime," Misty says, voice husking a little as she lowers it. Her stance becomes a little more tense, but only slightly; she knows well enough that despite his rich pretty boy facade, Tony's a lot more capable than he lets on to the general public. And not stupid enough to get himself put in danger where he'd end up as a hostage.

When the lights go out Tony frowns, only visible really as a change in the shadows on his face, and then he lifts an eyebrow a moment later. "Generators should've come on about now, only reason they wouldn't is if they've been turned off on purpose." He takes a step or two closer to the car and leans on the roof where he can get into the vehicle should he need to. "This should prove a bit more interesting than I'd originally thought, the power outage is gonna have both Con Ed and the cops here sooner than it would otherwise."

"That's a maybe," Misty replies, stepping away from Tony. "You can pay off city workers." And cops. But her respect for the few decent ones she knows from her old precinct prevent her from saying that. "Let me have a quick look."

And then she's burst into motion, all in black leather rather than her more obvious red go suit. She pauses for a moment so Tony can see where she's going, then ducks into the shadows around back, disappearing.

After Misty has vanished, a couple of black vans, marked with VICTOR in red — the name of a popular NY florist — pull up outside. The back doors spill open to reveal a handful of men in black ski masks and the typical burgular gear. With them are a few teenagers, who are trying to hide their excitement at being part of something so "cool". The plan is pretty obvious to someone of Tony's intellect. Stolen vehicles. Kids to take the fall when the authorities arrive. And the guys in black — perhaps a bit more savvy than your average street thug. They head around the back as well.

He watches her go, staying with the car long enough to see what's going on. Tony shakes his head slightly and mutters something about small time and bringing knives to gunfights.

Reaching into the car he pulls out a hard sided briefcase, one that's caught in quite a number of pictures with him, carrying it in one hand while he slips a long telescoping baton from a holster on his belt and flicking it out to a length of almost two feet. He starts across the street while his driver takes up station standing next to the drivers side and looking on with obvious .. concern.

Passing by the van, Tony glances inside the back of it briefly before following the crowd down the alley.

Perhaps not entirely small time. The first two black-clad guys out of the first van have a device with them. It looks home-cobbled, but one plugs a cord into a port on the security door's lock mechanism. A tiny LED display on the front flickers. The door clicks open as if the security were overridden, even beyond the brief blackout. "We got maybe three minutes, Joey," stage-whispers the one not holding the device, "before the power re-routes. You /sure/ it's in here?"

"I'm sure," replies the other man, thinner with a more nasal voice. "I paid the night watchmen fifty bucks for the past week just to make sure. You think I'd blow that kinda dosh if I didn't think we were about to strike gold?"

Joey, the one addressed, seems mollified by this, and steps inside. The second man in black remains where he is, monitoring their limited timeframe. But the other men in the vans quickstep to follow their leader inside.

In the back, Misty has done some palm greasing of her own, and was given a key to use by the foreman. Better to make sure somebody's watching the place than having to face all the scrutiny of those who will want to know how his security team failed. So she's standing just inside the industrial floor area when they arrive. There's the telltale shimmer of small halogen lights — and the flash and distortion of them going flying when Misty hits the owner of one such.

Narrowing his eyes at the security override card that gets used Tony frowns and shakes his head slightly, the though that he's going to have to stop leasing warehouse space and just /buy/ it clearly running through his head as he approaches behind the last few of the would be theives.

"So, just what is it that's so hot in there?" Tony asks in his best, and fairly good at that, teen-doing-no-good-enthused-voice of one of the lads just in front of him. From the way the unsuited hero is carrying the baton he's got held out it's clear that he's ready for the others to turn back on him..just in case his ruse doesn't work.

One of the teens turns around and is ready to sneer what passes for witty rejoinder in pumped-up overexcited teens. But the one beside him, red-haired, freckle faced and acne-spotted, also turns, and there is a gasp. His mouth drops open, letting fall an oversized wad of gum.

"Heh. Heh heh," is all he manages, before taking one step, two steps, and taking off at a run.

"It's just some guy in a suit," protests his friend, left behind and bewildered. "We can take him!"

At the door, Joey's buddy is not looking away. The timeframe is counting down and he's constantly making minute adjustments to his device, trying to extend it — and by his groans of frustration — failing miserably.

It's good to be famous..at least sometimes. Tony can't help but smirk just a bit as the red-haired kid makes a break for it, he trusts that Happy'll be getting pictures for later identification of those that exit the alley. For his part he just lifts an eyebrow at the teen that remained behind, "Seriously, what's in there that's worth all the trouble of turnin' off the power?" He takes a step just slightly to one side where he can get an eye on where Misty's at..making sure all's swell as he plays .. blocking force to what's likely to become her onrushing attack.

And by the stammering response Tony gets from the remaining teen and those standing behind him — none of them have any idea what they were helping liberate. "We…" mumbles the first kid, "We were….just promised we'd get paid." Now that he's had a moment to look at the man speaking to him, the fact that all the blood has drained from his face reveals he has recognized the famous Tony Stark as well.

And, as if on cue, the would-be thieves inside are making a break for the door. They're running in a manner best described as willy-nilly since they were attacked in the dark by something strong enough to toss them around like medicine balls. Misty is in hot pursuit, the soles of her platforms making heavy, ominous thuds with every step. Joey is the first to barrel straight into Tony, and he clearly wasn't expecting that.

Kids..money's one thing..Tony's done quite a lot for money in his day, but never not knowing /why/. When he sees Joey barrel towards him and the now pasty faced kid he proves that he's at least fairly effective /outside/ his suit. The briefcase is lifted and used as the heavy, if ungainly, weapon it is and rammed into the gut of the kid, a moment before Tony shoulder rushes the young man to push him right into Joey's path and trip the two up into a tangle of limbs and certain cursing. Stark uses the temporarily stable pivot point of the colliding thieves to roll around the pair of them and step off to one side, sure to leave a foot out for the pair to trip over as he looks to see Misty arriving hot on the heels of the other one, "They don't wanna tell me what they're after, Misty. It's /mine/..hell, might well give it to them if they asked nicely enough."

Misty raises the night-vision goggles she was using as she arrives to see Tony has handily disabled the teen contingent — at least those who aren't pelting down the street as fast as their spindly little legs can carry them. There are one or two who are stuck fast to where they're standing by train-wreck syndrome. Misty steps over Joey, and almost casually bangs the heads of the remaining two black-clothed guys against the doorframe. "Maybe they figure you already know, sugar." She grins bigger. "Such a philanthropist you are." She raises one brow, impressed that Tony has managed to take out half the thugs without so much as rumpling his suit.

"Philanthropist? Me? You gotta go look up the definition of that word again, Misty…I'm a /capitalist/." Tony says with a grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye then glances down at the hoodlums they've managed to wrangle to the ground. He glances once back down the alley a moment later before looking for the box Joey was carrying, "Sometimes it helps to be famous, didn't have to do much other than say 'boo'."

The last man, the one who was trying to sort out the electricity and security, knows it's over when he sees Joey go down. He sighs, unplugs his device, and chucks it at Tony and Misty's feet. "I'm not even resisting," he says in a resigned voice. Pragmatic, maybe.

"No surprise there, hon," Misty says, as she zip-ties the Pragmatist's hands behind his back and begins frisking him in accord with regular police procedure. "Half of them wanna /be/ you when they grow up. Rich. Famous. Good Looking. Surrounded by hot women. And now, able to be a badass in a fight, too? You're crushin' their widdle dreams, Tony."

There are one or two groans from the pile of thugs. But there's also a whirr, a click, and the power comes back up. First two buildings away, then one, then the warehouse. "And look at that. Everything in its place."

Tony Stark chuckles again, leaning to press the tip of the baton against one of the alley walls and fold it up into it's near palm sized compacted form. Tucking it into a holster at his belt he looks down at the pair on the ground and then the box, which he picks up and glances over briefly. "Hah..kid ran into my briefcase and then I pushed him into 'Joey' here. You handle'd the others quite nicely though, Misty..and still haven't lost your cops touch I see." he nods to her cuffing of the last man. Then he focuses a much more intent gaze on the surrendered thug, "So, what were you after?"

Misty mock-winces at the briefcase explanation. The one who ran into it is gonna feel /that/ in the morning. At Tony's words, though, Misty shrugs, though the praise does hit home, as evidenced by the warming of her smile, though she does not remark upon her separation from the NYPD. "Figured somethin' was up is all," she tells him, cocking her head at the sound of distant sirens. She reaches up and pulls off the watchcap, so her afro can breathe. "Last week Thrash was on my stompin' grounds chasin' down gun runners. Next day, this little raggedy female Wolverine wannabe was, chasin' down some guys in a hover-car with atomic material." She pulls a face; apparently the second situation didn't end to Misty's preference.

"Parts," is all Mr. Pragmatic will say. He glances down and murmurs, "Schematic's in my pocket," after meeting Tony's gaze and then Misty's.

What Tony finds is a handful of different parts, usable in different configurations with other items to construct various sorts of villainous devices — of the sort used by techie criminals. Possibly for smuggling them into the Vault for a jailbreak.

Setting the blueprints on top of his briefcase, Tony takes a look at them in the newly returned light and frowns. "These plans should've have gotten out, but by the codes on them I can trace it back to who leaked them." He looks at Pragmatic boy, "You do realize that these are military parts, right? What you've done is .. get caught in the midst of trying to steal items that could be construed as a threat to national security. "

Tony shakes his head slightly and looks back to Misty, "Thanks for the tip, and for callin' me down here, this definitely needed looking in to. I owe you a drink some time in repayment. Maybe then you can tell me a bit more about Thrash and the raggedy female."

"Never turn down an occasion to hang out with you, sugar," Misty replies smoothly to Tony. "But for now, if you don't want a bunch of questions and a face full of reporters, you better make tracks. Sounds like the boys in blue aren't farther away. I'll give you a call later to let you know if anything new develops."

Pragmatist boy gulps, but then schools his face, even as Misty throws an arm around his shoulders. Happy, being pragmatic in his own way, is already bringing the car around for Tony.

The police pull up just as Tony's downscaled vehicle hits a turn. Misty stands still with her single conscious perp and begins to answer the questions. A news van pulls up a moment or two after she's started answering the police.

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