Her gaze raking over the map twice and taking in what information she needed, Huntress folded the cumbersome thing up and tucked it down the side of her boot. Fists already itching for a fight, she made her way through the door her friend had opened and took a left, a right, slid up against the wall to wait for a guard to pass, another right, and then a left, until she came to the lab she'd glanced on the blueprint.
The door unsurprisingly locked, Helena waited a moment for another guard to pass her, his flashlight his announcement. Tucking herself away in a discrete alcove, Huntress grabbed the man as he passed her and held his gun hand up against his own chin, probably dislocating something in the process. Her hand muffled his shout of alarm.
"How does clearance work around here?" she demanded, ever blunt, jamming the man's own gun into his chin. Bluff, bluff, bluff.
"Sometimes key cards," he managed when her left hand slid only a few cautious inches away, "sometimes only one or two people allowed in a lab."
"Fair enough. Your clearance?"
The man's voice cracked. "P-please, I have a wife-"
Huntress' eyes nearly rolled up into her head as she brought the back of his skull against the wall, knocking him out cold. "Please," she muttered, riffling through his possessions, "I've heard that song sung a thousand different times. Betchya have kids, too."
Unloading his pistol and tucking the clip in her belt, Huntress sauntered back to the door and examined the lock--he was right. It was normally opened by a key card.
A lot of good that did her, with the power out. But if there was anything her short internship with Batman had taught her, it was that brute force was an acceptable second choice.
The handle really wasn't that hard to break off if you knew what you were doing, and she had seen Q do it enough times to repeat his motions blindfolded. The door swung open into a desolate lab and Huntress dropped the silver latch from her hand, letting it bounce upon the floor. Again, her flashlight went on, this time illuminating what looked to be various collections of power cells.
"Mm-hmm."
Her communicator rang out with Kara's voice; she lifted her wrist delicately to her lips.
"Just fine. Looks like Luthor's got his boys searching for a power source--and these aren't exactly watch batteries."
Her circling around the room paused when she came upon another door, this one smooth, without a latch--only accessible by key card. The letters "AP" were stamped in bold white against its gunmetal surface.
"Huh."
Leaning towards the small window the door contained, Helena squinted into the darkness--barely, just barely, she could make out the cages of animals. And further back, more alien, menacing shapes.
"Seems he's got quite the pet project," she remarked flippantly. "Might want to check this out, if you ever get around to it."
"If I have time," Power Girl whispered, slinking through the dark cubicle wasteland. "Right now what we're concerned with is power sources and anything laser-like. The moon sort of takes priority."
Anything else she was going to say died in her throat when a fat man with watery-looking eyes came from the small stairwell that Kara had been heading to.
"Hey, do you know where-" the man stopped dead when his flashlight trained on her. He obviously recognized Power Girl from the papers, because his free hand immediately flew to a pistol at his side that she hadn't noticed before. With a swift movement, she knocked him out, but the faint residue of blood on her fist made her pause in her movement upstairs.
Power Girl didn't want him to die in the dark building, so she pressed a button on the man's walkie-talkie quickly and darted up the dark stairs until she came to an important-looking hallway of large offices, the kind with personal secretaries and mahogany desks.
No sooner had she darted into the largest of the offices that she heard a heart-stopping thud from somewhere distant.
"Oh, Helena," Kara chuckled to the empty room. Money and secrecy gleamed from every smooth surface, from the glass shelves to the dark wood desk- for all she knew, this could be one of Luthor's own offices. She was snapped out of her reverie by more noise, louder and closer. People coming, raised voices. She dove for the large file cabinet in the corner.
The door unsurprisingly locked, Helena waited a moment for another guard to pass her, his flashlight his announcement. Tucking herself away in a discrete alcove, Huntress grabbed the man as he passed her and held his gun hand up against his own chin, probably dislocating something in the process. Her hand muffled his shout of alarm.
"How does clearance work around here?" she demanded, ever blunt, jamming the man's own gun into his chin. Bluff, bluff, bluff.
"Sometimes key cards," he managed when her left hand slid only a few cautious inches away, "sometimes only one or two people allowed in a lab."
"Fair enough. Your clearance?"
The man's voice cracked. "P-please, I have a wife-"
Huntress' eyes nearly rolled up into her head as she brought the back of his skull against the wall, knocking him out cold. "Please," she muttered, riffling through his possessions, "I've heard that song sung a thousand different times. Betchya have kids, too."
Unloading his pistol and tucking the clip in her belt, Huntress sauntered back to the door and examined the lock--he was right. It was normally opened by a key card.
A lot of good that did her, with the power out. But if there was anything her short internship with Batman had taught her, it was that brute force was an acceptable second choice.
The handle really wasn't that hard to break off if you knew what you were doing, and she had seen Q do it enough times to repeat his motions blindfolded. The door swung open into a desolate lab and Huntress dropped the silver latch from her hand, letting it bounce upon the floor. Again, her flashlight went on, this time illuminating what looked to be various collections of power cells.
"Mm-hmm."
Her communicator rang out with Kara's voice; she lifted her wrist delicately to her lips.
"Just fine. Looks like Luthor's got his boys searching for a power source--and these aren't exactly watch batteries."
Her circling around the room paused when she came upon another door, this one smooth, without a latch--only accessible by key card. The letters "AP" were stamped in bold white against its gunmetal surface.
"Huh."
Leaning towards the small window the door contained, Helena squinted into the darkness--barely, just barely, she could make out the cages of animals. And further back, more alien, menacing shapes.
"Seems he's got quite the pet project," she remarked flippantly. "Might want to check this out, if you ever get around to it."
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Anything else she was going to say died in her throat when a fat man with watery-looking eyes came from the small stairwell that Kara had been heading to.
"Hey, do you know where-" the man stopped dead when his flashlight trained on her. He obviously recognized Power Girl from the papers, because his free hand immediately flew to a pistol at his side that she hadn't noticed before. With a swift movement, she knocked him out, but the faint residue of blood on her fist made her pause in her movement upstairs.
Power Girl didn't want him to die in the dark building, so she pressed a button on the man's walkie-talkie quickly and darted up the dark stairs until she came to an important-looking hallway of large offices, the kind with personal secretaries and mahogany desks.
No sooner had she darted into the largest of the offices that she heard a heart-stopping thud from somewhere distant.
"Oh, Helena," Kara chuckled to the empty room. Money and secrecy gleamed from every smooth surface, from the glass shelves to the dark wood desk- for all she knew, this could be one of Luthor's own offices. She was snapped out of her reverie by more noise, louder and closer. People coming, raised voices. She dove for the large file cabinet in the corner.
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