Escape from DC

Several days had passed since Labrys and the President of the United States of America had almost been assassinated mid-meeting. The FBI, CIA, and Army had all launched investigations into the events, including beginning technical analyses on what was left after Michael Wilson had single-handedly disposed of all three robots with a suit of power armor. Labrys, in her guise of Larissa Joyce, had been interviewed no less than eight times, each by a different agent of each branch. She'd given them as much information as she could without compromising her own identity, but she was quickly running out of things to say. She also knew she was, to a limited extend, under surveillance from numerous agencies; she'd managed to spot agents from at least three foreign agencies, based on their methods. She also knew she was poorly-trained in the art of non-electronic surveillance. Thus, she'd taken to keeping her disguise on at all times and maintained what she calculated to be the minimum number of appointments she needed to make to keep from arousing suspicion.

Thus she found herself in the middle of preparing another speech, this one to some corporate bigwig who was vacationing in the nation's capital for some reason; she hadn't yet tried to find out why but at present it seemed like a minor concern. Admittedly, she was distracted by the need to keep a sensor open for potential threats.

Thus, when someone knocked on her door, she did a backflip over her couch and reached for an axe that was hidden in her closet. Fortunately, to her knowledge, there weren't many things currently in DC she couldn't crush with her bare hands if need be.

She briefly considered getting out her bear hands, but that was a joke for another blogpost.

She answered the door like a normal, semi-frightened human being, but was surprised when there was nobody at the door. Had she been....PRANKED?! Dang kids and their not having anything better to do...

"Good evening, Miss Joyce," a voice said from behind her.

Labrys once more did a backflip and, out of reflex, fired a rocket punch behind her, hoping she'd remembered to shut the blinds. The figure, an anonymous humanoid in a concealing dark trench coat and fedora, behind her dodged out of the way and grabbed the chain of her Chain Knuckle.

"Be at peace, Labrys. I'm an ally," the figure said.

"Oh yeah, eh? Well, my allies don't need ter sneak into me apartment wile I'm answerin' me door!" she countered, drawing her arm back in.

The figure chuckled, a flat, mechanical voice devoid of any way to tell who was speaking. "In this case, yes, I do. Maybe you haven't noticed, but you're being watched."

"I know I'm bein' wotched. It's why I 'aven't tried leavin' tahn yet; they'd follow me wherever I went and I'm not getting me mates caught up in this," Labrys growled. "But woss yor story, guv? 'oo are yer?"

The figure chuckled and adjusted an expressionless mask. "I'm someone who knew you were Larissa Joyce without having to do more than look up your address. I've been around the Kobbers before and I'm here to provide you assistance in getting back to Las Vegas."

Labrys glanced at her windows; she HAD remembered to close them. She made a note to complain about loud neighbors and gaudy signs loud enough that a careful listener could hear her. Then she realized someone probably WAS listening right now. The figure noticed and held up a hand to calm her.

"I'm not unaware of the danger; I'm using a white noise generator to interfere with listening devices. You are still safe."

"But for how long?" Labrys muttered, neglecting her accent.

"Not long," the figure answered. "Some careful infiltrations and sabotage have kept the army's analysts from uncovering the origins of your dopplegangers thus far, but there are too many pieces in too many places to keep your connection quiet for long."

Labrys hesitated. Leaving meant months of work would be undone, her new reputation as an impassioned activist for numerous causes would likely be drowned by the untruth that she was an assassin trying to get close to the president. She felt like breaking something, but she liked her furniture too much. Her place was...homey.

"Fine. I take it you have more for me than just this obvious news," Labrys said, going to retrieve her axe.

"Indeed. I have a plan and resources to get you away from here undetected," the figure confirmed. "Get anything you need to take ready; I've got a distraction coming in five minutes."

"Five minutes?! You just showed up with five minutes and expect me to be able to get ready that quickly?!" Labrys protested.

"FOUR minutes."

The anti-Shadow weapon muttered with annoyance as she packed her most important possessions: a few knickknacks and photos, a laptop computer she'd upgraded extensively, a love letter a secret admirer had slipped her one day. She packed it all into a suitcase and turned to leave, but remembered one more treasure.

In the other room, the figure counted down the seconds until it felt the floor rumble. Right on time.

"Labrys, the distraction is here. A little kaiju called Trespasser is coming to make a splash here, but don't worry; I've also arranged something to stop it."

Heavy footsteps answered the voice.

"I've called in some favors and gotten Yongary of the Neo-Kobbers to appear and battle Trespasser. You can slip out of the city while they're battling; your shadows will be too busy requesting orders and doing what they can to protect the president to chase you."

More heavy footsteps.

"And then you will head south along the coast where a train is waiting...are you listening, Labrys?"

"Labrys isn't here," a deep, male voice answered.

Six feet tall, covered in freshly-plainted, finely-polished, meticulously repaired armor, Labrys entered the room, hefting her axe and her suitcase.

"You can call me Hal, stranger."