"Surveillance won't be the one taking out whatever's slowing you down. Spend less time questioning me and more time following orders," Leah shot back to Onslaught, barely keeping her voice from becoming a growl of its own. "I didn't handle the intel gathering on this one." Her hands clenched into fists at her side. Seeing her team on the losing side gave her a sick feeling that had less to do with feeling competitive and more to do with a worry that she might actually lose one of them.
"I'm sure as hell trying," Blitz answered the tank with an annoyed exhale. His annoyance wasn't at his teammate, but rather the mafiosos and whatever trick they were using to literally slow him. His blasts weren't packing the heat they should, though he was still firing them off rapidly, then skirting around the large room again to recharge. While he did, he clotheslined at least two of the Sciuto soldiers with breakneck speed. It didn't feel great on his arm, since he'd used the one that had been grazed, but it resulted in two less shooters.
"Brandon, get your head in the game!" the speedster shouted at his brother. He tried to make a few more rounds to charge up as much as his stunted abilities would allow him, to blow a hole through the wall if he couldn't reach a door, but it wasn't to be. Blitz was too focused on dodging bullets to notice the nearly invisible wire planted in his path while he'd been rounding the building, and only realized it was there after the trip sent him flying, tumbling, smack into the wall with a sickening crack. His arm broke in the attempt to catch himself as he slammed into the side of the building, and his head still whipped forward with the momentum, his forehead colliding with metal.
It wasn't long after that armed men pounced on the dazed super, grabbing him up roughly and pulling him away from the others, making sure that his feet couldn't touch the ground. "Fuck..." he groaned, the closest to a call for help that he could manage in that moment.