You'd lie if you said you took the Handyman seriously as a foe. You have no hurry. You can allow yourself to be the cat, playing with your prey. Circling him slowly, you wait for him to take the initiative. He doesn't disappoint.
The draw is fast, maybe as fast as you back when you still relied on a gun to do damage. The gun is in his hand with a single smooth motion, the barrel aimed straight at you. Will it be able to hurt you? Probably not, but why bother finding out?
The shot goes off faster than you were prepared for. Most people wait for a second before pulling the trigger to make sure of their aim. He did not, and you were overconfident, the big slug impacting your shoulder as you try to evade.
The impact is not as brutal as you would have expected. Instead, it explodes into a thick goop that sticks to your armor like glue, hardening into a compact shell on contact with the air. For a moment, you're frozen in midstep, then your straining exoskeleton breaks through the shell.
It slows you long enough for him to squeeze off another shot that you're unable to evade, the projectile impacting your leg, slowing you further.
The pleased look on his face is even more annoying than the thought that you have to clean off the armor later.
Oh no
You flex your arms, breaking through the hardening shell. This could be annoying.
No, scratch that. It is annoying.
You're not sure you dare to let the nanovores devour it. You need to focus on keeping them from destroying your armor by mistake, and who knows what other tricks he has up his sleeve. Looks like you're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.
Reaching out, you brush your mind over his, but as you do, you pick up a stray thought that makes you suck in a breath of annoyance. Of course. You should have known.
Nothing Is Ever Easy
"I've got them pinned down!" The Handyman doesn't turn to look, but you have already spotted the silver form stepping out from between the cars.
Lady Argent.
"Good. Now get back and let me handle this." Lady Argent doesn't pay any further attention to the Handyman. She is focused on you, light on her feet, fingers curled but clawless.
"I can help," he protests, not that she listens.
"I don't need help. Just get out of my way, and I'll wrap up our little project." Her smile is a dangerous and sharp thing, a new moon on her face.
You have a feeling that the hunter just became the hunted. Did she use the Handyman to track you down? Or was this their plan from the start? It's too underhanded to be a Ranger plot, but there's no telling what to expect if she's working outside the team.
Looks like she's been doing some hunting on her own. Not that you mind. Not really.
If there is one thing you know, it's that a fight between you and Lady Argent will give you better headlines than destroying the Handyman ever would. You didn't wake up today planning to tangle with the Rangers, but since she seems to be here on her own, who are you to deny yourself a good fight?
"All this for me? I'm flattered," you tease, glad that the helmet is hiding your smile.
"I'm not the one that arranged this dance," she says, flexing her fingers as her razor-sharp claws start growing.
"That would be me," the Handyman says, raising his voice. His grin is wide and proud. "I knew you were looking into my business, and when I got that tip, it wasn't hard to figure out that something was wrong and take relevant precautions."
"Shut up. You're not the one I'm interested in dancing with." Your voice is a low growl. You don't like being played.
"Get back," she orders, and he obeys. You can see from the way she's watching you that she's expecting you to go for him.
"I told you I wasn't interested in him." It's a small step forward, but you can see the change it makes in her posture. "This is between us now."
"Bold words." Her grin widens. "Come on then, let's do this."