2013.04.05 - Heroine of the Day

The party was rocking! Well, note the was. Millie is currently very unhappy indeed. It may have to do with the face she has a bruise on her face, discoloring her left cheek. It also may have to do with the fact that she is tied up beside a businessman, CEO specifically to her right and to her left is a local judge. She sighs dramatically. Maybe she really shouldn't have punched that guy, but he was so disrespectful! It made her so mad! Said guy is sitting across from her, nursing his own jaw as he grumbles, "She really doesn't hit like a girl...not as hard as those damn superheroines, but not like a girl either." His partner laughs at him. The truck is moving down the road though it is likely already on the news that they were taken away, a passed out Millie at the time over a kidnapper's shoulder. She's just thankful to be awake and alert right now, even if her head is pounding like mad. She smiles encouraging at the two men on either side of her, as they appear insanely nervous and trying to be brave. Millie in reality is quaking inside, but part of her is detached...she has been in a situation similar to this before.

Kidnapping people in the middle of New York seems a pretty dumb thing to do, but this time the bad guys seem to have a good idea going. They somehow disrupted the cell phones, preventing anyone from calling the JLA or something like that. Then they took all the people on the party into trucks like this. Even Millie, because even though she wasn’t anyone important-looking, she was a witness. At least they didn’t just shoot her. They also seem to be slowing down, and the trip took only a few minutes, they must still be in Manhattan.

Well, Millie can hope, she was out for a few minutes at least. She tries to keep alert and look around. She's frightened, heart pounding fast, but she knows she has to keep her wits about her to survive. That is what she learned when she was accidentally framed for murder, and she knows to lose her wits and panic will be...she doesn't want to think about that! Her mouth presses into a thin line. First the shooting at the hospital and now this, what is happening to New York City?! She tries to speak softly to those with her, but gets told harshly to shut up by one of the men. She then smiles with a strained expression at the man. Least it wasn't the one she punched earlier.

“Alright, everyone out,” the doors of the truck open and a man in a yellow ‘beekeeper’ outfit helps the two thugs to pull the hostages outside. They seem to be in a tunnel or underground garage. Lighting is poor, except for an area where a weird machine the size of a train wagon stands. Millie can see how one of her fellow prisoners is pushed into the machine just then. Several technicians in those vaguely ridiculous outfits seem to be typing commands into the machine computers and droning things like ‘sigma waves normal’, ‘increase power in the cerebellum section’ and other nonsense.

Millie's eyes widen. She isn't sure what is going on! But she knows it appears to be human experimentation. She bites her lower lip, the fear crushing now that she has actually started shaking from where she stands with the others. They all shift nervously and with fright, and one of the other women bursts into tears and hysteria. Millie herself is just working on not crying! She twists her wrists, but the metal cuffs hold her tightly. Her cheek throbs, but it is barely registered as she is praying for some way to escape. She glances about for exits, anything!

Millie’s truck seems to be the last of the line, but behind her there is little but darkness. The thugs seem to have moved to the other side of the truck, to dress up as golden beekeepers. She can hear them. The lone guard with them looks unimpressed by the treat presented by the two old men and a pretty little blonde. “Relax, no one is going to die and you will be all back to the party in a couple hours,” he mentions coldly.

Millie can't help herself, no matter how frightened, though her throat feels constricted and it reflects in her tone no matter how biting she tries to make it, "As ourselves and true to ourselves?" Her gaze is accussing, meant to shame the criminal AIM members.

“In your case there is nothing up there of interest, is there?” The thug leers at Millie. “Nah, I guess they leave you alone with some memory editing.” So they must be after information, or maybe some kind of mind-control which they won’t use on her because she is not important. Or so says Mr. Thug-145, who probably knows little.

Millie actually pales...., "Monsters....," that is what she thinks of these thugs! She feels horrible for the others who appear about to get worse things done to them than her! And she won't even remember to try and help them! Her eyes burn as she has to fight all the stronger not to cry, but her chin tilts upward stubbornly even as her lower lip quivers. She refuses to cry in front of these low-lifes! She then turns away sharply to look at the cuffs another person wears to see if there is any way to get them off. Do they have a keypad rather than using an actual key?

“It is all for the good of science,” protests the thug. The handcuffs seem something out of Star Wars, made of plastic instead of metal, with a red blinking light and a side and probably some electronic lock. No place for a key, but watching Millie can see how the prisoner stepping out of the machine, looking a little dazed, is released from the cuffs by a thug using a cell-phone like device. There is one like that on the floor of the truck, probably left there by one of the guards.

Can Millie get to it though?! She have to convince the others to fight quickly...even then...they have weapons. Sweet actally slides down Millie's spine. She doesn't have any other options rather than to just permit her mind to be wiped! So she waits for the guards to glance away, perhaps toward the guy that just came out of the machine to try and slip behind them to the truck!

Minutes pass, the two thugs return all dressed up, but instead of picking up the device, they exchange a few words with the other terrorist and then grab the judge and move forward with him. More people get through the machine, reappearing with a dazed look and no longer offering any resistance. Millie seems forgotten, at least for now.

Millie is at the truck now, and lets out a pent up breath when they keep their back to her instead of fetching the device. With a bit of a struggle because of the awkwardness, she gets back into the truck. She works her way on her knees...even worse with awkwardness in a dress! And she turns around once she reaches the device, picking it up with difficulty with her hands, and tries to find the right button to press!

Click. Not that. Click. Neither. Click... she is free. Fortunately she didn’t click the ‘electrocute’ button. Well, her hands are free. Millie is still in some underground place with a score of thugs in yellow outfits and maybe fifty prisoners that can’t help her much.

These controls must be ranged limited, so she wouldn't be able to release everyone at once. Millie bites her lower lip. She finally pushes her way out of the truck, and on shakey legs heads to the front of it, to check to see if the keys were left inside.

Actually they are, although the front of the truck is pointing the wrong direction (towards the crowd of armed beekeepers). And speaking of yellow-clad thugs, guess who is back? “Hey, where is the punchy blonde?” “Uh, she was right here... crap.” Yeah, they noticed she sneaked off.

Alright, Millie still hopes she can manage this! She opens the driver's door and climbs right in, closing it and doing the 'double lock' that driver's side doors can do! She then turns the keys in the truck, and pointed in the wrong direction or not, Millie is about to show them how crazy women driver's can be!

Millie’s old friend gets to the door first, and tries to open it. “Hey, stop! You crazy bitch!” He hits the side window with his gun, but not hard enough because it is a high-tech blaster gun made of plastic, too light to break the window. Okay, so instead he shots to the window. But Millie is already stepping on the throttle and the truck is lurching forward. The shot hits the metal side and pokes a hole there, making the whole truck shudder.

And Millie of course screams! Yes, she screams even as she charges that truck right toward the army of AIM agents! Though before she will impact on human flesh she turns the steering wheel sharply and causes the truck to not only turn, but also to rock and fish tails the truck. She fights for control even as she presses on the gas harder! She is heading for that exit as fast as she can. Alright, let's ignore the fact she has since gained the hiccups and is about to have another breakdown like her friends pulled her from during the murder investigation.

Now the AIM agents are running out of the way of the truck, at least too busy to shoot. Not that shooting at the back of the truck is going to do much to stop Millie, even though they do that a few times. The exit... is the problem, where is the exit? The place is dark and seems half-finished, and the beekeepers are going to give chase soon.

That is when Millie things to turn on the headlights of the truck, and look for something that can be used to open the exit! Is there a garage opening darn it?! "Stupid, stupid, stupid supervilains!" Yep, she's angry, scared, panicked, and really about to lose it. And her driving reflects that, making her heart feel like it will pound out of her chest as she is afraid she is going to crash and die!

The AIM recruits only very clever people. But they get all kind of clever misfits, easily distracted genius and unpractical eminencies. Some people should not be allowed out of a lab, really. They react slowly to the situation, and when they get a couple other trucks moving, Millie has just spotted a ramp going up at a corner of the chamber.

With another squeel of wheels, Millie is driving right up that ramp! She cannot shy from what needs to be done, because she's afraid of losing control over her life again more than she is of AIM agents right now. "Come on, be open, be open!" Because she isn't finding what she wants...and charging through a door with a truck...oh no! She struggles to get her seat belt on while still trying not to lose control over the truck. Alright...no one is allowed to let Millie drive again, because she CANNOT DRIVE. Sheer luck is the only thing keeping her alive right now.

The side of the truck screeeeeches against the concrete wall. Nasty sound, but the truck can take it. And look... daylight. Faint daylight. The upper floor of the garage has some open spaces outside, although they are fairly up there. There is no other ramp to continue going up, though, just a number of apparently endless rows of columns and no indications of how to get out.

"There has to be a way," and Millie chokes on a sob. She looks for a place to hide the truck before the others get after her up here, or an exit or...a cell phone! Is there a cell phone in here? A radio? Anything! Millie sadly though doesn't even know how to properly use a radio. "Someone help, please help me." She just expects her heart-felt plea to fall on Deaf ears as she is alone with no one, but other prisoners and AIM agents chasing after her.

The place seems fairly open, so hiding something as large as the truck is hard. There is no radio, but she wasn’t searched when they grabbed her. Or at least not while she was conscious. If she had a cellphone, she still has it. Another truck is just out of the ramp, though, and speeding after hers!

Millie finds her cell phone though! She has to hike herself up with the seat belt on, pull up her skirt and get where it was strapped to her thigh of all places! She almost hits a pillar because of that! "Ahhhh!" She then starts pushing in 911 with shaking fingers, having to try twice damn it all! When she gets it in she puts it up to her ear and struggles to go around the edges to search for an exit ramp! She lets out a sobbing sound when the operator picks up, "Kidnapping by some crazy guys in hazmat suits! This is Millie Collins, I was at a party for a business fundraiser," and she lets the operator know where and when. "They showed up, kidnapped everyone...they are putting them in some crazy machine...and says it is doing something to memories! I think we are in Manhattan somewhere...in a multi-level garage, I can't find the exit, I stole a truck from them!" Leave it to Millie to call for the cops and not think of superheroes first.

That story is so weird that in most places cops would think it is a prank. Fortunately, in New York those things Millie described do happen on a weekly basis. Unfortunately, the cops do not know where Millie is either. “Miss, do you have the address? Please, try to find a way out, so we can find you.”

"Can't...you trace my cell?! Wait, I have GPS!" But then there is a suddenly sound of rending metal and the phone goes flying out of Millie's hand. It gets cracked, but the call is still on, and goes down to the floor boards. Millie herself had her forehead collide with the steering wheel even with the seat belt in place, her forehead having a split appearing on it and blood dripping down. She will likely suffer from whip lash and other pains and minor injuries, but in reality she is insanely lucky yet again as that is a cement pillar which she caught the edge of and sent her spinning to smack up against the side wall of the garage. She moans, and struggles to try and set up, but she cannot really move as consciousness is a struggling battle as she fights the blackness. "No...."

And on top of it, there is a bunch of angry terrorists coming to get Millie. “So, can we kill this bitch now?” She can hear one asking. “No, wait for the commander decision, we were supposed to return everyone. If someone is missing, the cops would get involved sooner or later.” So half a dozen yellow-clad thugs surround the crashed truck and try to open the side door. “Damnit, it is stuck!”

Millie is going in and out of consciousness, and groans. They aren't going to kill her this second? She has time...but how much? Thinking is difficult for her right now. She again tries to sit up from the steering wheel, but blackness comes over her in waves, and she thinks she feels sick. There is blood on her forehead, between the center of it and her right temple. She seems about to say something, but nothing comes out as the young woman has passed out.

It takes about ten minutes for the AIM goons to unstuck the side door, and meanwhile the cellphone is still on, accidentally hidden under the driver’s seat. By the time they drag the blonde out of the truck, there is brief commotion ahead and suddenly they dump her to the floor. She can hear gunshots. If she opens her eyes, she can see a couple AIM agents firing those sci-fi laser guns while two others try to carry a third one into their truck. This third agent is crying and panicking, holding an injured leg and flailing, the yellow uniform going red at mid-thigh.

A groan comes from Millie as she blinks. She feels worse than she did in that fire, or no, just a little more beaten up and less hot. She starts to roll over, half pushing herself up. She is not seeing very clearly, but she pushes the pain toward the back of her mind and goes to climb right back into that damn truck, searching for her cell phone. "Crazy people...all crazy," she says to herself, though it comes out sounding more like a croak.

“Oh fuck, there are a lot of cops! We are going to die!” Cries one of the AIM agents, shooting laser beams without aiming to some point ahead of Millie. “Shut up, there are just two cars, that is four, you idiot! Aaaah...” That agent falls to the floor, there is a bullet-sized hole in the visor of his helmet. The other agents have managed to drag their screaming partner into the back of their truck, and in a villainesque show of lack of loyalty, they start the vehicle and leave behind the gunner. “Wait! Waaaait!” Then he sees Millie. “You! It is all your fault!” He points the gun at Millie. “I have a hostage! I have a hostage! Stop shooting or she gets it!”

Millie gets her hand on her cell phone, mostly in the truck. That is when the AIM agent grabs her and tosses her on her butt, and she has to catch herself to prevent from knocking her head too! She then stares at the gun aimed at her, eyes widening. "Are you..mentally retarded?!" She sounds panicked, because she is. "You kidnapped me!" And she reacts the only way she knows how, she tries to raise a foot to kick the guy in the groin. Course with her fun concussion, she's going to miss, likely nail him in the thigh or something.

“I am not, I am a doctor!” Protests the AIM agent. He keeps glancing to a side, where about a hundred feet away two police cruisers have stopped. One of the cars is badly scorched in the front, probably from the laser shots. Looking in the wrong direction when Millie kicks him, the terrorist yelps and stumbles back, losing grip of his gun. A few seconds of pain and surprise give Millie a brief advantage, then the agent fumbles to regain his gun.

Millie half stands, half stumbles, but she has her cell and she's running to the other side of the...umm..nearest pillar! Yep, that works! Hiding away works very well. She doesn't scream, afraid it might give the AIM agent more reason to chase after her! It's taking her all right now to say lucid. Where are the cops?! Her hand shakes, and she struggles to find a place to sit down behind the pillar if she makes it to try and make a phone call.

Millie just reaches the pillar as the AIM agent shots at her. Zark-zark. Sparks of melted concrete fall at Millie’s side. Then there are several more gunshots, and the agent cries again as glass shatters when the windscreen of the damaged truck is hit. Then he runs away.

Millie whimpers. Alright, cops apparently there, but the guy is running away, oh...good! She still wants to start crying though, yet she resists. How many cops did they say? Only two cars, she did remember two cars. That isn't enough to handle all the AIM agents down below and save people! She eyes her phone, and then starts down her contact list. No...Chilli just make it worse...what about...Nate Grey! She starts to dail and puts the phone up to her ear, the screen slightly cracked sadly, but still working thankfully. She ignores the blood that drips down her nose a bit, only raising a finger to wipe some of the dripping blood away from her eyelid.

As the phone starts ringing, Millie can see one of the cops advancing cautiously among the pillars. A big brown-haired fellow with a moustache and thinning hair. Then another, younger one, a few feet behind, covering the first one. Nate takes a bit to answer, “hey, hello? Who is there?” Because although there are just half a dozen people with his cell number, he has yet to bother memorize their numbers.

"Umm...Nate?" Millie sounds groggy. "I think...the cops are outgunned." She struggles to peak around the pillar, squinting through though the dots that dance before her eyes. "One second." She lowers the phone a bit and calls out, "The stupid AIM agent went running umm...," she thinks for a moment, and then points, "That way. But...I got to remember the entrance...there was an entrance to their base, where they...are holding the others, something about wiping memories or something." She then ducks behind the pillar again and puts the phone back up to her ear. "There are lots of them. I don't like AIM," as if this is a profound statement. A pause and then, "And my head really hurts," and she sounds like she is pouting. Millie still refuses to cry though! It just make her head hurt worse anyway.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The cop looks around warily and lowers his gun. His partner keeps looking for the missing terrorist, though. There is another pair of cops near the truck now, they must have come from the other side. Nate does not answer in the phone. Instead he answers in Millie’s head.  The line goes dead. At the other side of the city, Nate is having some difficulties to read Millie’s memories, but he is closing quickly.

Millie's eyes close tightly and she sets the phone down, letting it disconnect. "I can't remember...where the entrance is." Though Millie is also trying to strongly think the words if think is something she can do clearly right now. "The others....Nate says he is coming, you got to help the others."

"Who is Nate?" Asks one of the policemen. "We got to wait for the SHIELD unit, we have orders. But there is an ambulance on the way," explains another, noticing Millie is injured. They do not seem eager to chase after the fleeing terrorist, at least yet. But another police cruiser has arrived to join the others, and it seems likely there would be many more in the way.

"Nate...Grey, a superhero. Forgot...I had his number," Millie says. "He...can find the entrance I think." She raises a hand to wipe away more blood, though it is dripping much more slowly now. "They did something to...some of the people. Put them in a machine, did something to their minds. They acted...strange afterwards." Millie takes a shaky, deep breath, fighting tears back yet again. She will /win/ this!

The policemen nod and help Millie to walk closer to their cruisers. A fourth and a fifth arrive. They expect SHIELD in ten minutes, it seems. But Nate gets there first, phasing through the roof and startling the cops, which obviously fear the AIM soldiers would attacking them. But no, it happens Nate is a registered superhuman, with his real name and all. With him there the law-enforcement agents have little problem rescuing the kidnapped people, and also manage to capture a few of the AIM agents.

By the time, Nate returns with the policemen and the other hostages, Millie is sitting on a emergency medical bed, getting her forehead tended to. But her eyes search for Nate, "Their heads...," she asks first thing, "What did they do to their minds?" Her eyes are worried for those people.

Nate goes looking for Millie after the brief fight, so she can ask him... well, yeah. “Hey, you alright?” He examines her wound briefly, but seems satisfied it is not too bad. “Don’t worry, they had put that people in some kind of hypnotic trance, and I guess their plan was to put some suggestions and commands in their heads. But they should be alright.”

"Oh, thank goodness," Millie says. "And...just a concussion, again," she says with a sigh. "As if being framed for murder wasn't exciting enough, I had to go and get kidnapped." But she goes and takes another deep breath, her forehead then getting a bandage on it.

“Hey, you managed to escape and call the police, you did great,” replies Nate with a grin. “And a bump in the head is better than getting turned into an unwitting agent for those bastards. No one else had the guts to try to escape, and no one had seen the kidnapping.”

A slow nod at that, "I...was just scared, but I was even more scared of going into that machine," Millie's voice shakes slightly. But she then forces a smile to her face, if her voice shakes, she might cry. Her smile is still bright and warm, "It will be fine though. Everyone is safe now."