A bit of planning
Sitting there and staring at the Stark Industries logo that kept showing up in the news, and finally seeing the man, Tony Stark, himself, made him fully acknowledge he was in Marvel.
Taking a step back... Who and what do i remember? Shouldn't i at least try to sort what i can remember, in hopes of getting something from it.
Standing up from the couch, he went for an expedition to find a notebook and pen. Returning 3 minutes later, he started writing down whatever he coud remember.
Tony Stark
1. He gets kidnapped during 2008 somewhere, and then becomes Iron Man while trying to break out. It happened in... Afghanistan, right.
2. Rich as all hell.
Shield.
1. I know they exist, and they deal with the supernatural. Maybe there's something else I'll remember over time.
The hulk
1. Besides knowing hes green and angry... I dont know anything. Ah, he was a scientist.
Like that, he kept writing whatever bits and pieces he could remember from his previous life. On each page he wrote one character so he could throw in additional details if he remembered them. An hour later, he finally frowned.
Thanos
1. Snapped his fingers and killed half the universe? Also had a gauntlet and some colored thingamabobs. Incredibly dangerous.
"This... How the hell would i even deal with this guy? If he can snap half the universe away, why didn't he snap twice to kill off everyone?" asking himself that question. He looked at the 30 pages he filled with bits and pieces of his memory.
Getting to this point, he looked at his system. His sole chance of getting really powerful in this world without gambling on being bitten by a radioactive critter. Or being thrown into a nuclear reactor and somehow living.
Shuddering at the thought of what radiation poisoning looks like, he asked the system:
"How exactly do i get xp or whatever to level up? Do i need to... Kill people?"
After asking that question, i felt a bit uneasy. While i did try, and succeed, in killing someone before, that was self defense and someone who tried to kill me... Right?
With such shitty justifications for murder swirling around in my head, knowing that i was a lost cause already, the reply came from the system.
Casting a singular glance at the notification that meant i would need to spill a lot of blood to get anywhere, i kept thinking about the uncertain future. After an hour, raising my head, i made up my mind.
I would do anything to survive this time, i don't want to die to an idiot snapping his fingers, or as a collateral in a fight between good and bad.
Thinking up until here, i looked at my S&W Model 10. While it did have the ability to put down most normal humans in the ground, it would probably be useless against anything supernatural. Or any trained villain. Having decided i needed to get myself a new gun, i remembered that you had to get permission from the armory officer if i want to bring my own thing. And i also need to know the maximum caliber allowed for personal arms.
Getting into bed, i went to sleep, awaiting the new day.
Waking up to the sound of the alarm, i instantly sprung into action. Getting ready with everything much quicker than usual, i headed out of the apartment. Arriving at the police station a whole hour earlier than usual, i headed past the offices to the back of the building where the armory was.
Behind the steel bars stood an impressive arsenal of weaponry. In front of them, behind a booth, an armory officer was leisurely reading something. Seeing me approach he opened:
"Long time no see John, hope you've been alr-"
"Will, i need to know the max caliber I'm allowed to bring to work, and if theres other things about changing my personal arms."
Looking up at me, "Why do you suddenly want to change your glock?" Will asked.
"Not my glock, my revolver." I replied.
"Huh? Odd but whatever. You currently got a Model 10 yeah? You can get yourself a Model 29, that uses .44 Magnum instead of .38 Special. And obviously, the cost is on yourself as we don't have any of those around."
"Got it, thanks." slightly disappointed at not getting a freebie, I went to get a coffee while waiting. Not having to sign any annoying paperwork to get my gun did throw off my schedule a bit.
Like that, Ronald arrived at the station. You may ask why he isn't picked up by me since i have the car, right?
He lives across the street. A dream for many, not having to commute or worrying about being late for some reason or another.
"Look whos early for work today, eh John? Wanna get into the good books of the boss?"
Rolling my eyes at the teasing we went into Smith's office.
Looking at the 2 of us being slightly early, the mountain of a man threw us another report.
"We got a tip off by one of our trusted informants", said Smith, "that the remnants of a gang were spotted in the abandoned house next to them. The original gang was only 15 people, yet those 3 lucky bastards managed to escape the encirclement. After that, they went into hiding evading our eyes. Until now."
Taking a sip of coffee, he continued.
"Get going. And if you need to you should call backup."
Leaving the office, we looked at the report. All 3 were armed criminals who participated in drug trafficking. The real issue is the weapons they carried.
While the 2 with glocks were relatively less dangerous, the last one had an AK47. While the kevlar vests could protect to an extent against it, it would be close range combat. The bullet would almost certainly get through the kevlar.
Looking up and seeing that Ronald was thinking about the same thing, we reached a unspoken mutual understanding: Unless he surrenders first and throws away the weapon, incapitate him on the spot!
Having decided that, we left the building.
Getting into the car we drove off. Passing through East Flatbush, we headed towards Canarsie, where the abandoned building they were reported to be in was located.