Dr. Anthony Cross
TIAMA Offices, World Trade Center
It wasn't too often a day like this occurred. Sure, New York had incidents, some random armed robberies, a few Metas causing a ruckus over in the Bronx, so one so forth. But very rarely did a day like today occur. Up north, the Indian Point reactor has a supposed break in, The Federal reserve down the street was currently under siege, and, if reports were understood, The Staten Island Ferry had been stopped dead in the water.
TIAMA's regional offices in North America weren't new constructions for the most part, as opposed to European, African and Asian offices, which had whole new buildings constructed. Anthony himself now stood in the darkened planning room usually devoted to seminars on public relations and after action reports, a small auditorium focusing on a holotable of his own design, and donated rather liberally to TIAMA personnel and offices globally. It was a more streamlined and user friendly amalgamation of a projector and smart board. Really it was much like a whiteboard for a SWAT team, for when planning was befitting, obviously running back here when a member of TIAMA was a first responder wasn't a smart move.
Within the room with him were a number of TIAMA personnel, the so called 'Heroes of a New Age'. To his left at the table, one Wolfram Herrman. A heavily scarred man with an obvious military background. Outside of that, Anthony couldn't dredge up anything else about him other than being the operations chief for the Northeast Division of TIAMA North America. had the man been employed before Anthony stepped down as Administrator, he'd likely know more, but at the moment he was just here in an advisory capacity.
Anthony remained silent as the light dimmed, the grizzled veteran spoke, his voice a gravelly rasp, obviously having spent most of his life yelling... or smoking. Probably both. "Right, as of current we have two major incidents within our purview that no other teams can attend. There was an incident up in Indian Head, but FUNK's[1] already on that like white on rice, as per usual. So that leaves the incidents down the street in the reserve and the Staten Island Ferry."
Anthony chose then to speak up, his southern drawl betraying his noted education, "I can take care of the ferry."
Herrman paused, "You don't exactly looked well equipped enough Doctor."
Anthony shook his head, "Well, not me specifically, I have a weapon's platform I've been meaning to run through a live event. Figured the ferry would provide a reasonably well closed off location for that."
The elder of the two simply raised a brow, "I'd ask questions but knowing you, you've answered them already. Just know if it bites the bullet and stops working we may not be able to get people over there to help in time."
Anthony nodded, "If they need help you'll be needing a hazmat team."
"I don't want to know, so I'll continue." tapping on the screen a few times he typed something in, and a layout of the Federal Reserve was dropped into view on the table, "That leaves the largest gold deposit in the world, from a number of foreign governments as well as the US' own. Normally, the Secret Service, FBI, and NYPD would storm the place, but as it stands, they think that a Meta-human is involved. FUNK would be the next best thing, but they are, again, dealing with a nuclear power plant. So, that leaves us to save the global economy."
The building was cut down to the lobby, the teller area, and of course, the vault itself. "Now, contact with security was lost not too long after the silent alarm was tripped, and 911 calls were picked up.. Based on the view the police cordon has, the windows and exits are encased in a layer of ice ranging between one to three feet thick, meaning a confirmed cryokinetic user, we don't know if anyone else with powers is involved, but we do know they have firearms, based on a few frantic calls reporting such. So, we have a few entrances we can-"
The man was cut off by a call over intercom, a woman with a rather middle eastern sounding voice frantically speaking, "Herrman, the vault doors in the Reserve are reporting a loss of electrical current and a breach alarm, they've breached the vault, and you're out of time."
Herrman simply sighed, "Shit. Alright folks, get down there and bust down the goddamned door, stay safe and don't get killed. Remember, get them alive is possible, fatalities are a last resort." As those assembled rather swiftly shuffled out of the room, Herrman turned to Cross, "Son, I sure as Hell hope that whatever you're doing on the Ferry, it's done perfectly."
Anthony shrugged, still looking at the bank's lobby, "AI don't make mistakes on read and write."
Footnotes
[1] FUNK - A special division of the NYPD SWAT tasked specifically with operations pertaining to tactical situations, standoffs and sieges which involve one or multiple Meta-Human suspects.
