Why are villains so obsessed with rooftops? It's not like there's many more places they can go up here. Besides, we've got flyers who can keep track of them more easily!
While he was at it, Oberon wondered when Mandrake and Nightshade had become a trio? Of course, to judge from the way both women looked in the black cat-suits, he understood why Mandrake wouldn't mind having another kitten to play with. Of course, Oberon had always harbored a bit of a secret crush on Nightshade anyway.
Oberon would catch up to the criminal chemist and corner her. She would reveal that she'd been under the sway of the former assassin all this time. He had some sort of leverage against her that Oberon promised he would free her from. She would be so grateful that her body would press against his and...
Well, from there it generally devolved into a variety of fantasies; depending on what kind of sexual acts his subconscious felt he'd been missing recently.
Now he found himself leaping from building to rooftop in pursuit of them. He dodged around the exhaust pipe of a furnace and leapt into the open space over an alley. He hit the next roof hard but lunged forward into a roll designed to absorb most of the dangerous momentum and redirect it back towards the fleeing criminals. He didn't have the super-strength or invulnerability to be one-hundred percent safe up there, but free running was a hobby of his. It gave him plenty of time to work through problems and strategies against those on whose tail he'd been put.
Another thing didn't make sense. Why would two ~correction,
three
~ noted terrorists stoop to something as banal as burglary? Actually, it really was only two noted terrorists. Whoever the new chick was, she didn't have a file with the PRA yet. With a body and face like hers, his photographic memory would have remembered. For that matter, she had yet to demonstrate any paranormal abilities.
Oberon launched himself into empty space once more. This time, his hands wrapped around the rail of a fire escape. His feet hit the side of the building jarringly but he scrambled onto the metal platform and hurried up the steep stairs after the criminals.
Despite her pharmacological degree and doctorate as a chemist, Mandrake was the operational brains of the two. He planned the jobs and Nightshade followed his instructions to the letter. To the best of the PRA's research, she rarely knew the whole plan. It was supposed to be an operational security factor, but it was also the cornerstone of Oberon's unshakeable fantasies.
So why would someone who's arguably smarter than a woman with two different doctors degrees decide to branch out into petty crime by targeting a jewelry store? Sure, the upscale boutique actually maintained more portable assets than any bank in the city, and in a more compact form, but it also had nearly as much security and a much more paranoid tendency to trigger an alarm. It had been pretty much a given that the late-night sales associate would punch the button at the first time of dissolving hinges!
Oberon didn't have time to worry about such minor details. The suspects had just leapt off of the roof he was on and landed on the heavily slanted steeple of a church. It was going to take all of his concentration not to fall off of that one. For all his time free running, Mandrake and Nightshade made it look easy. And, from the looks of it, the new woman was part cat the way she handled herself.
The only hope he had of catching them lay in the endurance he'd built up. He could keep this pace up for most of a day. He doubted there were many people out there, without powers suited to this kind of thing, that could boast the same.
All three of the criminals landed with equal precision. Oberon's eyes suddenly narrowed when the newcomer slid mere inches down the shingled roof. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to cause Nightshade's steps to falter. With her rhythm broken, her surety followed. Nightshade's arms flew straight out to her sides in an effort to regain her equilibrium.
Her companions paused, more balanced and certain, and glanced behind at her. From the angle Oberon had, he could see the concern in the woman's eyes. It was answered by annoyance from her male partner and what looked like gloating from the newcomer. Oberon couldn't hear what was shouted back and forth between Mandrake and Nightshade but the tone didn't sound pleasant.
Oberon's own breakneck pace stuttered when Mandrake leered back at his, apparently-former, partner and tossed the heavy satchel he carried directly at her. Instinctively, Nightshade's arms swung in to catch the bag against her chest. With the removal of her arms from her balance and the additional backwards force of the pack, Nightshade lost her footing and began to slide quickly down the steep slope.
In the horrifyingly long time that she seemingly slid across the shingles and launched into mid-air, everything became crystal clear to Oberon. Nightshade never bothered to question why they needed the jewelry. She followed her partner's lead as always, content that there was a valid reason for every move.
Unfortunately for her, there was. Whoever the newcomer was, she was meant as a replacement for the chemist rather than a compliment to her skills. He had known they would set off alarms, might even have done so himself. He planned the escape route with that very church in mind and sprung the trap. If she survived the fall, she should be too badly injured to make good her own escape. She would have the loot and would be put away for a very long time. If she didn't survive, so much the better. He was still rid of her.
Oberon realized it wasn't Nightshade's fall that was slow but rather his perception of time. There would be no one else near enough to save her from the fate Mandrake had planned. In an instant, he made up his mind and shifted his course appropriately.
Time snapped back to normal speed, or perhaps even twice as fast. Nightshade was already over the edge and a third of the way to the ground when he reached the edge of the roof and lunged forward. The moment he had dropped past the edge of the building he dropped his hand to his side and shot a quick blast of water straight at the building. The jet pushed him forward fast enough to overcome her disadvantage in timing.
Nightshade slammed into his shoulder while still in mid-air. Oberon wrapped his arm around her and brought her firmly against his body. He threw his other hand towards the ground and unleashed a torrent of water straight down. He had never attempted such a feat, but he hoped he would at least be able to slow their fall enough to avoid serious injuries. He counted himself thankful that the stressful situation caused his ability to open to its fullest rather than choke off in panic.
Oberon rolled his body to land shoulder-first. He thought he had bled off enough momentum but he wanted to be safe. He interposed his body between the ground and his charge. At the last second he shut down the rush of water and wrapped his other arm around her.
The ground hurt. Oberon tucked his body around Nightshade and rolled across the floor of the alley. His back hit the wall of the church and jarred his arms loose. Nightshade bounced off of his chest and rolled free. If she chose to bolt at that moment, he wasn't certain he'd be able to react in time to catch back up with her.
Whether Nightshade was stunned ~physically or mentally~ or simply to relieved to be alive, Oberon would never know. He lay on his side with his back pressed against the church and tried to catch his breath. Nightshade lay on her back, only a foot or so away, with her breath heaving just as heavily. The fateful satchel of loot remained clutched in her arms, pressed against her stomach.
The moment Oberon began to take sock, he realized his body had already had more than its fill of the landscape. If not for his tight costume, his appreciation would have already been not only visible but embarrassingly lewd.