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Nov. 22nd, 2019 07:02 pmThat was it, her time was up.
It really only been a matter of time, really, and she'd actually gone into double overtime. Her mistake of leaving the vivid purple lipstick in her purse where Flynn could accidentally find it should have been her signal to ghost, it would have been a fatal mistake on a mission but it had been an actual mistake her persona could have actually made. A recent goth-bride had actually been a fangirl of Black Cat and had scoured the the internet for any and all facts/speculation about the vigilante to the point of actually choosing the right lipstick shade. A themed Black Cat/Catwoman wedding featuring a vigilante/thief wedding party had been adorably frustrating. But a black and purple wedding only stretched so far and Bridget could certainly admit her selfish feelings caused her to brush off what should have been a whistle of warning. Black Cat had left enough calling cards or notes for Flynn in that same shade that he would instantly recognize it.
It hadn't taken long, perhaps the warehouse trap when she'd left Flynn hog-tied in order to clear the hidden guns had been a trial run of tests, and some dirty badge presented the idea that Black Cat was either working with or protecting Flynn. Of course Flynn would be sacrificed to the biggest pocket in town. The trap had even been set carefully in a penthouse only a doomsdayer could masturbate over. Very limited access, fully equipped with armored shutters and reinforced doorways, motion sensors that could detect a moth, individual room ventilation... Bridget looked at the image on Google Maps and ran a comb through her hair absentmindedly. She'd gotten a phone call ten minutes ago from Flynn's phone and from the tone of the voices on the other end, someone with an ego and a fantasy for objectifying women had liked the photos of her on Flynn's phone. Come to that address within two hours, don't bother calling the police, or Flynn would disappear.
The call had been to an events planner but the situation was set to catch a vigilante so Bridget suspected that the events planner was a booty call of opportunity. The vigilante wouldn't have been warned not to call the police since Black Cat didn't trust the police. Still... She doubted Flynn wouldn't be taunted with what was being planned for Bridget much less Black Cat if either of them actually showed up. Larger syndicates didn't need to buy dirty cops so they felt no need to get off on taunting their prey by flexing their power dramatically to show they had power. The location did pose some difficulty though... It would take ten minutes for the encryption software to deactivate the security zone and would have to be connected physically. Ten minutes of distracting a suite full of people looking forward to either sex or brutal murder. Or both. She couldn't disregard the idea that anyone with more than the four brain cells of eat, sleep, kill, and sex might decide there might be more than one sex able to kill, but that may be giving too much credit given to someone looking at creating a snuff film with a cop's squeeze.
Another five minutes of slowly drawing the comb through her hair and examining city blueprints was enough. Bridget already had the connections she needed, it was simply a matter of hacking bank accounts to see where money was changing hands and making a few phone calls. The hardest part was losing Flynn in order to save him. There was no way he wouldn't learn her identity tonight and there was no room in their apartment for Black Cat. One call to a strip club under remodel, two calls to escort hubs, one text to a sniper who owed her a favor, and one final call to Flynn's phone. It had probably been a little over-dramatic in her taste, but the ones who'd picked up had been pleased enough with her desperate offers as a party planner to give them the best night ever, please don't hurt Flynn, she'll be there soon... They even put her on speakerphone to let her hear them slap Flynn around a few times.
Idiots. Phone triangulation let her track which area of the building Flynn was held.
It really only been a matter of time, really, and she'd actually gone into double overtime. Her mistake of leaving the vivid purple lipstick in her purse where Flynn could accidentally find it should have been her signal to ghost, it would have been a fatal mistake on a mission but it had been an actual mistake her persona could have actually made. A recent goth-bride had actually been a fangirl of Black Cat and had scoured the the internet for any and all facts/speculation about the vigilante to the point of actually choosing the right lipstick shade. A themed Black Cat/Catwoman wedding featuring a vigilante/thief wedding party had been adorably frustrating. But a black and purple wedding only stretched so far and Bridget could certainly admit her selfish feelings caused her to brush off what should have been a whistle of warning. Black Cat had left enough calling cards or notes for Flynn in that same shade that he would instantly recognize it.
It hadn't taken long, perhaps the warehouse trap when she'd left Flynn hog-tied in order to clear the hidden guns had been a trial run of tests, and some dirty badge presented the idea that Black Cat was either working with or protecting Flynn. Of course Flynn would be sacrificed to the biggest pocket in town. The trap had even been set carefully in a penthouse only a doomsdayer could masturbate over. Very limited access, fully equipped with armored shutters and reinforced doorways, motion sensors that could detect a moth, individual room ventilation... Bridget looked at the image on Google Maps and ran a comb through her hair absentmindedly. She'd gotten a phone call ten minutes ago from Flynn's phone and from the tone of the voices on the other end, someone with an ego and a fantasy for objectifying women had liked the photos of her on Flynn's phone. Come to that address within two hours, don't bother calling the police, or Flynn would disappear.
The call had been to an events planner but the situation was set to catch a vigilante so Bridget suspected that the events planner was a booty call of opportunity. The vigilante wouldn't have been warned not to call the police since Black Cat didn't trust the police. Still... She doubted Flynn wouldn't be taunted with what was being planned for Bridget much less Black Cat if either of them actually showed up. Larger syndicates didn't need to buy dirty cops so they felt no need to get off on taunting their prey by flexing their power dramatically to show they had power. The location did pose some difficulty though... It would take ten minutes for the encryption software to deactivate the security zone and would have to be connected physically. Ten minutes of distracting a suite full of people looking forward to either sex or brutal murder. Or both. She couldn't disregard the idea that anyone with more than the four brain cells of eat, sleep, kill, and sex might decide there might be more than one sex able to kill, but that may be giving too much credit given to someone looking at creating a snuff film with a cop's squeeze.
Another five minutes of slowly drawing the comb through her hair and examining city blueprints was enough. Bridget already had the connections she needed, it was simply a matter of hacking bank accounts to see where money was changing hands and making a few phone calls. The hardest part was losing Flynn in order to save him. There was no way he wouldn't learn her identity tonight and there was no room in their apartment for Black Cat. One call to a strip club under remodel, two calls to escort hubs, one text to a sniper who owed her a favor, and one final call to Flynn's phone. It had probably been a little over-dramatic in her taste, but the ones who'd picked up had been pleased enough with her desperate offers as a party planner to give them the best night ever, please don't hurt Flynn, she'll be there soon... They even put her on speakerphone to let her hear them slap Flynn around a few times.
Idiots. Phone triangulation let her track which area of the building Flynn was held.
