HEROES Chapter 1

Tim gave a quick glance at Takisha, grinned and said "Hol' on ta yur ass Smokie." He then slammed the throttle forward and the assault vehicle leaped forward over the top of a parke3d sedan, crashing through the exterior wall of the garage, sliding sideways then proceeding towards the ambulances and the armoured R.A.I.D vehicle. "Ya think ya could drive that thar amblance thar "Smoke"? " Tim asked his passanger. "I reckon we gonna have a parcel a comp'ny in a spell. Some ain't gonna be to happy ta see us, an uthers will."

Tim then slid up next to the ambulance they had brought, spoke into the secure comlink of the assault vehicle "Mother Hen .... Mother Hen ...... Outlaw here ..... our hen house is here wrangle up all the chicks. I'll git tha Sheriff's attention, I reckon. " Tashika climbed out and into the driving compartment of the Heroe's Ambulance.

Tim then spun the assault vehicle around and and crashed it through the emergency room doors, slamming on the brakes and coming to a halt inches from the receptioist's desk. He placed it in reverse, spoke to the onboard computer 'Shield up ....... cameras on ....... weapons sytem armed.' That oughta get sum attention I reckon."

Zoe quickly gave Cassius and Yelena directions on how to get back to the ambulance and they started heading the way Zoe was guiding them. Yelena was taken by surprise when the man stepped out from behind the bushes. At first she took on a defensive stance and was ready to exchange blows if need be, but when she recognized the handsome features of the Adonis like man, she knew who it was and relaxed her stance slightly. As he asked where the blonde woman was Cassius lazily draped his arm around Yelena’s shoulders and pointed at Toril then she saw the smirk he put on his face.

“Dude….you gotta stop scaring the hell outta us like that. My girl here isn’t in the best of moods right now. She just might open up a can of whoop ass on you. You’d give her a run for her money, no doubt, but she has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Looking down at Yelena, Cassius winked.

“Right, baby?”

Yelena furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“Now isn’t the time for games. We have to get the hell outta here. Now.”

Looking over at Toril, she sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry about the blonde. She’s fine and safe from those assholes. For now”

About that time she heard Tim’s voice on the comm. unit and knew Cassius was hearing it as well. They exchanged glances then heard a crash followed by the sound of screams and yelling. Knowing they were out of time, Yelena nodded then looked over at Toril. Using her own accented voice but keeping her current disguise in place, she looked over at Toril again.

“We must go. Now. Before authorities realize they have been fooled. Come. We get you out of here with us.”

Without waiting to see if the tall man was coming with them, she and Cassius started heading a little quicker, but refraining from running, towards the direction the ambulance was located. When they got there they could see the destruction Tim had caused to the hospital with the assault vehicle.

“Noy je taut….”

Yelena knew they had very little time left before the feds would swarm the area. Sprinting to the back of the ambulance, she threw the doors open and quickly ushered Cassius into the back and looked back for the man who had helped them escape from the feds.

As Yelena turned to look for Wraith a gust of wind tossed the unruly locks of her present form and then sitting next to Cassius appeared the large blonde haired man.

"Hey kid," He said to Cassius, "Y'know I've never ridden in one things when I wasn't all shot up." Wraith winked then introduced himself extending a hand, "The name's Toril, it just seem's strange to go by Wraith without my mask."

He looked over at the young girl who had for a moment spoke with a broken Russian accent which lead to some suspicion but he kept it to himself. In a very relaxed manner, befitting of one about to embark on a tour of the country-side he asked enthusiastically, "So where are we going?"

Then looking down on the floor at the bloodied and beaten boy looked around to see if anyone else besides him has medical experience.

As the wind rushed by Yelena, she gasped softly. Blinking when she saw the form of the blond haired man appear in the rig next to Cassius, she furrowed her brow, said something under her breath in her native language then quickly ushered herself into the back of the rig as well and closed the doors.

“Let’s go!”

Seeing Shawn on the floor of the rig and obvious signs of a physical confrontation, Yelena quickly knelt down next to the poor young man and assessed his condition the best she could while relaying to Tim they were loaded up.

“Rodeo up, Cowboy. We’re headed out now. Get your ass out of there as well.”

Furrowing her brows, Yelena didn’t know where to begin. She was no medical professional nor was she much of a good field medic. As she tried to assess Shawn’s condition, Yelena returned to her normal look after a split second of her true, blue form. Finally turning her head to look up at Toril, she looked to him for some kind of help and answer his questions.



“We are going away from here. Leaving city all together. Is only safe thing for us to do now.”

There was no doubt she was deeply concerned for the young mans well being. The look on her face was nothing short of imploring and the look in her eyes spoke volumes as to how far out of her element she truly was right now.

“I am Yelena. This is Cassius and this poor young man is Shawn. Thank you for help back at hospital. But….why were you there? I not believe in coincidences. And please tell me you can help Shawn.”

Yelena's transformation answered Toril's suspicions and when she cast him a worried look his casual demeanor turned serious and he sprang into action.

"Excuse me please." He said to Yelena as he brushed past her, tripped the locks on the gurney beneath the boy and lifted his weight and that of the bed to waist height in one smooth, casual motion. He made sure the wheels were locked and immediately began to access the boys condition. He checked his vitals and utilized instruments in the ambulance to examine his autonomic functions; looking into his throat and flashing a light in his eyes.

"Multiple contusions, possible concussion." Relayed Toril then noting the curiousity in Yelena's expression he clarified why he knew his way around a patient, "I was in my first year of interning when I decided to change my career path to genetics and I've been in a few scuffles."

He checked the boys neck, running his fingers along the spine, "Seems fine, but I have some bad news. I'm afraid he's going to be permanently blind." Toril had a bit of a chuckle at his own joke but then realizing that it was a bad time for humour humbly apologized, "Sorry about that I have a seriously bad habit of making inappropriate jokes in tense situations. You're friend is going to be fine and in my expert opinion I would say that he is unconscious from over using his 'metabilities'. He should be awake in a few hours."

Toril raised the safety bar on the bed so that Shawn couldn't fall out and sat back down next to Cassius. "A friend of mine gave me the drop on your associate, DiVine. He thought I might be able to be of some assistance.", he explained as he removed his latex gloves.

Yelena stepped aside, as best she could, to allow Toril to do what he needed to do for Shawn. Keeping a very close eye on what the big man did, she braced herself by using a handle in the ceiling of the rig so she wouldn’t fall as the ambulance took turns at a rather quick rate of speed and the brakes were pressed from time to time. As she watched Toril assess Shawn, she furrowed her brows when he cracked his joke.

“Is not time for jokes. And he was already blind. Give me gauze so I can clean wounds, please.”

As Toril handed the alcohol and gauze bandages to Yelena before he sat down, the shape shifter moved so she could work on Shawn without having to reach awkwardly. Using a gentle touch and great care, she began to clean the scrapes and cuts, making sure she didn’t apply too much pressure and open a wound any more than she had to.

Keeping some of her attention on Toril, she listened to what he was saying to Cassius. Glancing over her shoulder at the young man, she exchanged another look with him then looked over at Toril before she worked on Shawn again.

When she was done, she tossed the used gauze into the small trash can and was just placing the alcohol back in the overhead compartment when the ambulance took a sharp turn causing her to lose her balance and fall towards Toril. If it hadn’t been for the large man’s quick reflexes she would have ended up in his lap but as it was, he was able to grab a hold of her waist with both hands and help her maintain her balance.

Yelena was so shocked that she dropped the alcohol and quickly grabbed a hold of Toril’s hands to remove them from touching her and she took a small step back. She would have taken another step but the gurney Shawn was resting on stopped her from moving any further. Seeing the look on Toril’s face, she merely looked away then moved to sit down on Cassius’ other side and look away from both men as they sat staring at her for a moment longer.

Finally Cassius broke the awkward silence between all of them as he looked to Toril.

“So….Dude….who is this….friend of yours and how did he know what we were planning? Sounds really fishy to me. And by fishy, I don’t mean that in a good way. Catch my drift, dude?”

Toril was very thankful for Cassius' intervention. He didn't quite know what to make of the shape-shifters reaction and until the young man's question he had been frozen on the spot by the bright flashing warning signals she threw off.

"Y'know I do, 'catch your drift'." Answered Toril, "I honestly don't know why Beacon was so interested in DiVine, I guess we'll never know."

"You're going to have to elaborate, dude. I mean, like as far as I know beacon is part of breakfast." Said Cassius.

Toril laughed and described to those of the group who were unaware of Beacon what exactly the organization was and his association with it. He told them that a while back, probably when some of them were still in diapers he use to do some work for them. "Like super-hero, stuff." Cassius had paraphrased and Toril had responded, "Yes, super-hero stuff."

"We... I mean, I thought we were going to change the world for the better, but it turned out Beacon was becoming part of the problem. I hadn't spoken to my old friend Surge for years then he just fell back into my life about a month ago. He had use for my talents and I obliged him, then after he dropped this DiVine thing in my lap with very little information. That's all I know. He always contacts me, so I just have to wait to hear from him and I'm a little anxious. My face is all over the R.A.I.D. cameras." He then looked directly at Cassius before he continued, "That's the disadvantage of not wearing a mask. Maybe you might think you look like a goof, but at least your identity is safe. I'm hoping Beacon can make the video disappear, if they haven't taken care of that already, they have that kind of power."

Toril leaned back against the wall of the ambulance and sighed, then he looked over to Cassius again, "So what's your power?"

"So what's your power?"

At this, Cassius grinned broadly, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms above his head. "My power?" he repeated, "uuuh... dashing good looks and irresistible charm." When Toril simply looked back at him a little bewildered, he clarified, his arms still resting behind his head. "I'm just a regular ole' human, dude. No like, cool meta shit. Just another dangerous radical." There was a pause in which Cassius took out a cigarette and lighter and began glancing around for a window he could open. Finding none, the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly downward and he stuck the cigarette behind one ear, sticking the lighter back in his pocket. "To like . . . elucidate . . . or whatever," Cassius went on, "I'm part of an underground railroad type thing. Like, a safe-place for metas, ya dig? We like, work for change and equality and all that shit. Not real popular right now but like, ya know how it is, right dude?" He elbowed Toril in the arm and grinned again. "So like . . . you disappear and reappear right behind other dudes?" asked Cassius, looking up at Toril, "that's cool. Ya do anything else awesome?"


Meanwhile, Shawn stirred on the gurney, the slightest of whimpers barely escaping his faintly parted lips. Squeezing his still-closed eyes against the pounding that throbbed against his head, Shawn's first instinct was to silently sniff the air. The rumbling that vibrated through his body told him the vehicle was in motion and the scents were all familiar save for one. A faint smell of blood still lingered in his nose, but the metallic taste in his mouth was no longer so potent.

As the fog cleared around his consciousness, the horrible sinking shot through his body as the memory of Fay's capture stabbed back into him. While he knew his fight had done no good, he had to know she was at least alive. Slowly, his hands began to move over the gurney, feeling out the bars that kept him from rolling out and the surface he lay upon.

"Ah!" Cassius exclaimed, "the ninja dude awakens!"

His body aching, Shawn pulled himself carefully to a sitting position, the top of the ambulance ticking his hair as his head brushed just barely past it. His bag. His bag should still be at least roughly where he left it. Head down, his eyes finally opened to slits, Shawn slid off of the gurney and immediately stumbled into the back doors as the vehicle took a harsh turn. For a moment, Shawn didn't move, the horrendous pounding in his head now at the bursting point. Immediately, Yelena jumped up to help him, placing a gentle hand on arm and shoulder which he barely resisted shaking off.

"Bag," he finally said, pointing towards the back of the ambulance and began inching towards it. Leading Yelena, the deaf-blind boy held his free hand in front of him, brushing against equipment and the gurney itself until his fingertips reached the front wall of the ambulance. Here, he slowly bent, his hand swaying in front of him until he felt the familiar worn canvas and reached inside. Pulling his arm away from Yelena's protective grasp, he extracted the label-maker and paused, wrapping the strap around his wrist. Still facing away from Yelena, he dropped his head a little more, the drop in his stomach hardening and grinding at him like a spiked bolder.

"I screwed up," he signed and spoke quietly, each syllable vibrating cruelly through his throbbing body, "is Fay alright?"

Perched on the roof of a darkened building, Grey stared down the barrel of sniper rifle. It was the kind of borrowed artillery that was about second to a woman in the hitman's mind and he found his gaze occasionally drifting to the sleek weapon, his fingers caressing the trigger. Lying on his stomach, the cool cement pressing hard against his chest, he turned his sharp eyes back down the sight into the window directly across from him. Though he filled his lungs with the cool twilight air, his body was stiff, pressure constantly building as though he were holding his breath.

Like a prey animal, he watched with unblinking patience until the light finally filled the tiny square in front of him, the floral design of the curtains back-lit by the cheap hotel lamps. Hands tightening around the handle, the gun stabilized against his shoulder, Grey's finger settled on the trigger. Still, as though carved from stone, his eyes locked on the illuminated window, unblinking until the figure finally moved in front of it-- a black silhouette nearly filling the light. In a split second, the only movement was that of his finger squeezing the trigger, the only sound that of the muffled spit from the silencer. The bullet cut cleanly through the glass, a small round hole where the figure had just been.

Immediately, Grey jumped to his feet and took off across the room as shouts seeped faintly from the punctured glass. Rifle bobbing in his hand, the hit man crossed the room, stepping nimbly onto the opposite edge and kicking off as he leaped across the twenty-story gap to land silently on the next roof over. Without missing a beat, he scrambled across a helipad towards the other end. With a quick glance at the empty rooftop behind him, Grey stepped up onto the ledge and glanced down before stepping off. Concrete and brick brushed past him, pulling at the stray fly-aways of loose, light brown curls from the short ponytail by the base of his neck.

Landing with a clang onto the top of a fire escape, Grey let his knees collapse and paused again, crouched with the rifle beneath him, listening to the silence above him and the rustling in the apartment beside him. He then scrambled down the black iron stairs, barely escaping into the shadows as a perplexed old woman appeared in the window above him. As he jumped down from the fire escape and ducked into the darkness of a nearby alley, he finally perched against the wall and finally let go of the pressure that had been building within him for over an hour. His face twitched uncontrollably, his head ticking to one side every now and then, barely missing the wall behind him. A string of swears tumbled forth from his lips, some mere mutters while others shouts at dangerous volumes that made him glance around himself. Finally, as the involuntary tics subsided, he clutched the rifle close to him and flipped open a small cell phone from his pocket. The message was a single text to one of the only real numbers in the phone.

"Done."

Toril was surprised to find that Cassius was Human as he seemed to possess a certain ere about him that he associated with Meta's. Powers or not, the kid had guts and Toril respected that, he couldn't count how many times he had seen a meta-human fall because they had become too reliant on their abilities. People like Cassius were a good example to follow, although he had his doubts on just how much of a role model the kid really was.

When Cassius asked about his abilities, Toril instinctively grew silent. Back in the day all the meta-humans had been extremely open with their powers and weaknesses and had paid the ultimate price for their honesty. Organizations like R.A.I.D. took advantage of this knowledge and used it against them, so Toril wasn't too hasty to divulge the extent of his mutations. Of course he really didn't have any reason not to trust anyone in the ambulance so let Cassius know that he was able to control winds and air. "I can generate vortexes, gusts and even manipulate the weather in a localized area." He elaborated and to demonstrate, Cassius suddenly felt the sensation of swirling winds running up along his shirt then his hair was blown straight into the air as if he were sitting on top of a vent. Toril smiled, amused by his own little trick but his lighthearted stunt ceased when Shawn began to stir.

As tension began to mount, it became apparent to Toril that they had lost one of their group and it seemed that she was most likely taken by R.A.I.D.

Yelena was very concerned about Shawn’s condition. Even with the rumbling and unstable movements of the ambulance, he seemed to not have his full wits about. Thankfully he was the perfect distraction she needed to put her mind on something else besides the tall man next to her. Doing her best to ignore him, or at least seem as though she were, she helped Shawn find what he needed to find. Her heart ached for the young man when she heard his words and gently guiding him back to the gurney, she made sure he laid down for the remainder of the ride as she took his communication device and relayed what she could to him.

Not screw up. Too many feds for us to handle. Fay is alive. Raid not take meta’s dead unless no other choice. Will find out from Zoe how Fay is. Rest now. Concussion make head hurt bad.

Turning her troubled gaze towards Toril then, she seemed to assess silently before she spoke again.

“Beacon try to help too much. Started out with good intentions but when they discovered how corrupt government really was, they resorted to same tactics and lines became blurred. Is difficult to stop snowball headed for hell at such rapid speed. They tried, but only ended up adding to steep incline we were already headed on.”

Looking over at Cassius, she let her gaze settle on the young man for a moment.

“Thank you for playing along back there. I had no choice. I hope O not mad at me for doing that.”

Turning her gaze back to Toril as he demonstrated for Cassius what his abilities were, she studied him again with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Thank you again for help back at hospital.”

Special Agent Henkel was just leaving when his partner walked into the now illuminated surveillance room with the look of utter defeat. There were about a hundred things Jameson wanted to say to Henkel about his plan and about a hundred things he shouldn't so he just flopped into a chair and seethed for a moment.



"Hey, DiVine is safely on his way to the detention centre and we caught one of them." Consoled Henkel, "What the hell more did you want?"

Jameson watched Henkel stroll by without raising his head, he couldn't believe how calm Henkel was, so much so it pissed him right off. They had just invested a lot of F.B.I. and R.A.I.D. resources for the capture of one little girl. What the hell more did he want? He wanted to catch the big fish and move up in the world instead of having to explain to their director what went wrong. Just then a call came through to the surveillance room.

"Sir! We need to mobilize all units! An assault vehicle just crashed through the emergency entrance and sped off!"

Jameson leaped to the comm, and checked the video feed on the vehicle that tore through the doors and sent it off to all of the unmarked R.A.I.D. cars they had at their disposal. He then sent out a message to all their operatives. "Subject is now exiting the parking lot. All units pursue, I repeat, all units pursue!" Jameson then tore out of the room to join the chase. He would contact Henkel once he was out of the hospital and in pursuit.

Henkel made his way out of the intensive care ward and toward the stairwell. He was just through the door when his secure phone rang.

"Yes."

"Well done Special Agent Henkel." Congratulated the caller.

"Hey! No names, what the hell is wrong with you?" Complained Henkel.

"Relax. Nothing on this planet or off can intercept our call, I've seen to that."

Henkel grimaced, but he knew that the man he was talking to could probably arrange such security. Continuing down the stairwell he made sure that there was no one else around to eaves drop. "Dominic Cassius got away." He informed his contact.

"What?" There was a long sigh then silence.

"Hey, you know that DiVine was always my first priority." Defended Henkel, "You wanted a diversion and I provided you with one. I never promised to gift wrap Cassius for you. Why do you need him anyway?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. What's important is that our operative is in place. You've done an adequate job, consider your debt cleared."

"You should know that one of the meta-humans was captured." Mentioned Henkel fishing for more information.

"We are aware. She is of no consequence at the moment but she may prove useful in the future. Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

"Hey just wait a minute. I want to at least know who you are after." Demanded Henkel.

"Good bye, Simon."

The connection was broken leaving Henkel with his unanswered question of just who Beacon was after. Dealing with these meta-humans was an unfortunate reality in his world, but at least he was out of their pocket. Now he could concentrate on tracking down the blackmailing son-of-a-bitch who had arranged the DiVine scandal, and he'd find him, if was that last thing he did.



Toril thought that Yelena's idea of Beacon hit pretty close to home. Beacon started out with the best intentions but somewhere along the lines their means had become questionable and most of their resources were used to maintain the secrecy of those meta-humans that sat in prominent positions of power in the Human world. He had hoped that after all these years Toril had changed, but the way he had recruited Jeb, and threw him into a meat grinder proved that his tactics were just as ruthless as ever.

Looking at the rag-tag band of meta-humans he had ended up with, Toril wondered why Vacily had guided him toward their cause? Their friend DiVine, was so heavily guarded that even if he hadn't suffered a heart-attack in the middle of the rescue their chances of success were pretty slim. There had also been a combination of F.B.I. and R.A.I.D. agents, which as far as he knew was a rare occurrence. There was some other hidden agenda, but at the moment it eluded him.

Toril had been very careful not to critically injure any of the agents during his fight but now he was very concerned with the damage the others had caused. He had caught sight of fallen enforcers in the parking lot and there was a loud explosion that had come from round the other side of the hospital. There would be serious repercussions to their actions and peaceful meta-humans would pay the price.

Yelena's acknowledgment of his assistance snapped Toril's mind back into the present moment. "You're welcome. I just wish I could have done more. I hope the doctors were able to stabilize your friend, DiVine. I have to say though, one of the nurses had me worried when she mixed up his saturation and heart monitor leads."

Yelena nodded to Toril.

“Robert is strong man. I have faith he will do just fine. But….what is this you say about the nurse mixing up his…saturation and heart leads? You are doctor of some kind then? Da?”

Who ever this strange man was, he certainly seemed to know what he was talking about when it came to medical knowledge, anyway. Still, if Beacon had sent him to ‘help’ Yelena had her suspicions it wasn’t from the goodness of their hearts.

Beacon never did anything without expecting something in return. And what was their interest in Robert? He was an old man who should have been sitting home, tending to his plants instead of off gallivanting through the city with a bunch of rogue meta-humans wanted by the authorities for causing trouble.

All of these thoughts and more tugged at Yelena’s heart as she rode in the back of the ambulance with an injured Shawn, a smoking Cassius and a strange, blond haired man who literally appeared from thin air.

"I have a doctorate in genetic science, specifically molecular genetics, but I also interned as a medical doctor." Toril answered Yelena, shrugging his bulging shoulders. "I also have some experience in the field dealing with the wounds of meta-human battles." he further explained.

Toril glanced over Shawn one more time then looked to Yelena, "You're doing just fine with him. It seems you have a little experience in administering first aid to wounded comrades as well." He remarked.

He sat back down and took a quick look at the faces of the group and it reminded him all the more that this wasn't Beacon and the black and white days of costumed heroes fighting it out were dead. It was so much simpler back then, or it seemed like it was, now he could very well be the enemy of these freedom fighters and wouldn't even know it.



Two helicopters circled round the surrounding area of the hospital, scanning for the assault vehicle that destroyed the emergency doors. Thankfully no one was injured but in the eyes of R.A.I.D., the F.B.I. and the NYPD the potential for the harm that could have been inflicted was just as serious.

The reinforced unmarked cars driven by R.A.I.D. sped in the direction the assault vehicle was last seen. Accompanied by several vehicles driven by the F.B.I., all the cars had turned on their flashing lights to identify them as the law. As they awaited direction from the helicopters many local police cruisers were flooding the streets in response to the b.o.l.o for the unique car that vandalized a hospital. The rumour that the perpetrator was suspected to be a meta-human only intensified the emotions of all the law enforcers who were just waiting for an excuse to open fire.



Jameson jumped into the car that he and Henkel shared and spun the wheels as he exited the hospital parking lot to join the pursuit. He swore this one wasn't going to get away.

The man known only as Boss to Grey took the rifle roughly from his hands as he regarded him with a cocked eyebrow and a curled lip. Saying nothing, he tossed the weapon to one of his henchmen standing by and handed Grey a wad of money which he immediately snatched from the big man's meaty hands and stepped away, counting it with dismay.

"This isn't even close to what we agreed on," said Grey, annoyance already bubbling within him, the violent twitch that rippled across his face only adding to his frustration. Turning to peek over his shoulder at him, the Boss laughed, a quiet, throaty chuckle as he lit a fat cigar and blew a puff of the foul-smelling smoke into Grey's face.

"I changed my mind," he said, simply, sticking the cigar between his teeth and taking a drag while his henchmen along the back wall grinned over at the meta. "You gotta problem with that?" Now Grey stepped forward, standing straight as his gray eyes blazed into the other man's.

"Yeah I do," he snapped, "we had a deal." Now, the crime boss frowned, straightening himself so that he towered over the young hit man. The others behind him immediately stopped laughing, looking with both eagerness and apprehension between the two men.

"Correction," said Boss threateningly, "we have a deal."

"You think I couldn't take you?" Grey replied, "don't play with me. Gimme the rest."

"Oh you think you could take me?" the boss snapped back, raising his voice as he took a step closer, the ash from the cigar dangling precariously over Grey's face. "Yeah, maybe, freak. But can you take the entire FBI? R.A.I.D?" He raised and eyebrow and regarded Grey's defiant silence expectantly. When he said nothing, the boss's lip curled again and he turned his back to his hit man, taking a few slow, even steps across his office. Grey's blood burned with anger his thoughts interrupted by his own unstoppable reactions as his eyes scanned his boss's wide back.

"Fatass."

"What did you say?!" The boss roared, whirling around and staring Grey down like a junkyard dog.

"I didn't say shit!" Crossing the room, the man was looming angrily over Grey in a matter of seconds but the young man stood his ground, narrowing his eyes up at him. The very air in the small office grew thick as they remained still for what felt like hours, staring each other down. Finally, the boss let out a disgusted tch! and turned back, cross his office again before abruptly turning and tossing a small orange bottle at Grey's face. Catching it easily, he looked down at the little bottle of black market Vicodin and felt a slight relief in spite of himself.

"Get the *&#^@ out of my office," his boss growled as Grey raised his eyes from the bottle back to glare at the man's back. Saying nothing else, the young meta turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind himself.

As he moved along the darkened streets with long, angry strides, Grey seethed and the long his raged inside, the more his own body rebelled against his fragile control over it. His face and head twitched and swears flew loudly from his mouth, echoing in the night and amusing some of the passing drunks. Shoving a cigarette between his lips, Grey lit it and took a deep drag that slightly relieved the tension that gripped him. The tics subsided as he neared the familiar neighborhood that was alive with lights and voices, figures crowding the streets, and the muffled pulse of music drifting in so many forms out into the crowds. His hands buried into the kangaroo pocket in the front of his hoodie, Grey stood in the dense line leading out of one of his normal haunts, ignoring the looks the turned quizzically his way whenever an odd noise erupted from his mouth or the muscles in his neck or face decided to randomly jerk.

When the lights and pulsing music finally enveloped him, the tension slid away from Grey's body and he immediately melted into the crowd as it moved with the music like an undulating wave. As usual, it wasn't long before he caught the attention of one of the scantily-clad beauties that worked the crowd. His oddities masked by the deafening music that owned the club, their bodies ground against each other as Grey moved his hand over her smooth, brown skin. The wad of money safely tucked into his pocket began to thin as he worked his way farther and farther from Boss's office with each shot. Eventually, the two stumbled out of the club and meandered down the street, locked together in some strange symbiotic strategy that kept their balance.

When he woke up, a familiar pressure clenched his head into a dull ache. The small remains of a ponytail lay among the tangled locks of curly hair that lay against an unfamiliar pillow. Rolling his head silently over, he scanned the naked brown back that lay still beside him and let his lip triumphantly curl before he gingerly rose. With expert silence, Grey slipped out of the bed and pulled on his pants and t-shirt before he tied his hoodie around his waist and disappeared out into the crisp dawn.

When he made it back to his apartment, he settled down on his meager double bed, the dip in the mattress nearly reaching to the box spring as he sat down. Shaking out a few of the little blue pills from the orange bottle, he tossed them back and swallowed them dryly before leaning back on his thin pillow, letting his shoes drop to the floor. Giggling to himself, Grey let his limbs go limp, his body letting go of seemingly any muscle tone whatsoever as the euphoria washed over him like a cool spring.

Two R.A.I.D. enforcers wheeled the cadaver that had been used to impersonate DiVine through the bay doors. They moved the body into the armoured transport and secured the gurney in place on the side of the truck opposite the young girl that had been captured during the rescue attempt. One of them checked on the girl's I.V. line, to make sure that she was receiving the proper amount of rocuronium, a neuromuscular blocker and propofol to anesthetize her. A combination of agents commonly administered to captured meta-humans to keep them in an unconscious and paralyzed state. He checked her bonds as well, a precaution in case she happened to have some ability that could counter the drugs.

"Pretty little thing." Commented one of the enforcers.

"Yeah." Agreed the other, "She should be college with my little sister, but life dealt her a bad hand, I guess."

"Hey, man, she's a meta. They should all be locked away. The less of them there are on the streets the fewer there'll be in the future." His older partner stated.

"Ya, I guess." Questioned the younger man.

"No guessing, son. Don't let her appearance fool you. She is the enemy." The experienced enforcer countered, then gave his partner a consoling slap on the shoulder. "Com'on, let's this rig rolling."



The men closed the doors and walked round the large vehicle and got into the cab. As the big truck pulled away from the loading dock of the hospital neither of the enforcers took any notice of the large raven perched atop a street light. The bird's dark eyes watched the truck intently as it passed by then it took to the air and flew in the same direction as if it were following.



Special Agent Henkel walked through of the door of surveillance room carrying a fresh cup of coffee and was surprised to find that Jameson had left. He had expected to find him still brooding about their failed assignment but seemed that he and the other R.A.I.D. agents that had been monitoring the hospital had stepped out. His attention had been grabbed by the complete search on one of the monitors that had been displaying the facial recognition comparisons of the tall meta-human going by the name of Doctor Carson.

"Shit." Expressed Henkel when he saw the word, 'inclusive' written across the search results for both the man and the woman who was impersonating an intern. He knew something was right, since he had ran both of their faces against all databases that the F.B.I. and R.A.I.D. has access to and it was virtually impossible not to get a hit on driver's license or some other form of identification. Beacon had to be protecting them, Henkel considered and now he was even more interested in tracking down these meta-humans, for they may be able to lead him to the man he had just spoken with on the phone.



The black coloured transport headed up the interstate then after a couple of hours turned off onto a grid road that wound it's way north into a forested area. For an hour the truck negotiated its way along a paved road that eventually lead to a facility with circa 1950's style architecture. The transport stopped in front a twelve foot high chain link fence topped with razor wire. There were few signs on the entry way:



The gate automatically slid open and the truck passed through, carrying on into a parking lot illuminated by dim solar powered street lamps. They drove around the back of the facility and into large bay door that was already opened by the time the truck pulled around.The red tail lights were enveloped by the blackness and the sound of the engine and closing door dwindled until only the songs of crickets and frogs once more dominated the night.



Hours later the raven navigated its way through the dark as if it could see in the black, silently gliding through the forest like an owl. It landed on the highest branch of a tall evergreen growing just outside the perimeter fence and there it sat for a while, moving its head side to side as it scanned the facility, then cawing with contentment the bird took to the air once more and flew back the way it had come.

Dawn was breaking when the weary raven flew through the open window of an old gothic apartment block and landed on the black leather couch of monochromatic coloured living room. The amber glow of the morning light cast a crisp dark shadow of the bird across the wall. The bird raised it's wings then the tips quickly elongated and became fingers, and the shape of the crow was replaced by the shadow of man. The man, dressed in black leather gothic style garments checked his hair in the mirror beside the couch before taking out a phone and calling his former partner.

Grey Pyre's phone vibrated away but it did not awake the man from his euphoric slumber and re-directed the call to his voice mail.



"Pyre, it's Scavenger. I know it's been a while but I think I found the detention centre. I was playing a hunch and hanging around the Our Lady of Mercy hospital since both R.A.I.D. and the F.B.I. were there and followed one of their transports. Bad news is, I think it may be too heavily guarded for you and I, but I got a plan. One of the members of this group of meta-humans that went toe to toe with R.A.I.D. was captured and they might want to get her back, so I propose we find them and strike a deal. What do ya think? Give me a shout back."

It had been a year since Stefan Rook, also known as Scavenger had spoken with Pyre, but he had vowed to find their former partners and found them he had, he was certain of it. Hopefully, Grey was still what he remembered because there was no way he could pull off a prison break without him, especially one specialized for detaining meta-humans.

Tim spoke over the secure link of the assault vehicles radio "Mother Hen chicken hawks in pursuit of the wrangler. Get hens to hen house. Wrangler will meet up latter." He then spoke to the onbaord computer "R.A.I.D Paint scheme activate."



"R.A.I.D Paint scheme activated all weapons system armed and ready. Tim, R.A.I.D and F.B.I assests closing. Suggest evassive action.......Stealth Systems activated, Radar jamming activated."

The assault vehicle became a flat black with eth R.A.I.D. Logo on each door and the top. Tim sped through the streets towards the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and Brooklyn.

Jameson tore up 16th Street and merged onto the Gowanus express way, weaving in and out of traffic like a rally driver. The helicopters had suddenly lost visual on the suspect, as if the assault vehicle had just disappeared but he figured that if the guy had some mutant ability to make the car invisible or something he would have used it long ago. Up ahead was the Battery Tunnel, and Jameson would put money on the fact that the meta-human speedster was going to run the gauntlet. He admit the guy had balls.

A car came out of no where and Jameson had to react fast and skid around the SUV. Expertly he maneuvered round the bulky vehicle and in between another two cars ahead of it without so much as a sweat. Driving had always come naturally to him, like shooting, but if he had to choose which skill he excelled at more, it would be hands down being behind the wheel of car.

Up ahead he could see something, a car had just slammed on its breaks and had been rear-ended by pick-up truck while trying to avoid a black vehicle the exact same shape of the suspects assault car.

"This is Special Agent Jameson, suspect has been sighted north bound on 478 approaching the Battery Tunnel. All units converge. I want the tunnel on the Manhatten side sealed, I repeat, seal the tunnel. I also want road blocks on West Street and route 78. Do you copy?"

"Roger that." Responded a unit.

Jameson knew that they didn't have enough back-up to put a sure stop to the high tech vehicle but he hoped the road blocks would be enough to slow him down. If he got through the tunnel then he knew that the only other route he could take would be the route 78 bridge to Jersey. He wanted to keep him on the island as long as possible because he made it across the chances of them catching him would greatly diminish.

Jameson was catching up to the suspect. The traffic was heavy and it was now a contest of driving skill rather than speed; a contest that he was more than up for. As he came up on the car he could see that it indeed had turned black and he radioed in the change to the other units. "Suspect's vehicle can alter it's colour. You are now in pursuit of a black vehicle."

As they entered the tunnel, Jameson could see the flashing lights of two NYPD cruisers in the distance within his rear view mirror. They were closing in but not fast enough, he had to try and slow this guy down. Beside him on the passenger seat he had a plasma rifle and pistol, he knew that bullets would just ricochet off the assault vehicle's armour so his best bet was to use the plasma rifle. He had his doubts that it would work, since that thing might have a defense built into it to counter the plasma but he'd be a fool not to try it anyway.

Jameson threw the rifle in his lap and quickly checked it's charge while swerving in and out of traffic. It read '82%' so he set the weapon to single burst and set it's level beyond ten, until it read. 'MAX'. Plasma assault rifles were rarely set beyond level ten, a powerful burst that drained half of a full battery in one shot but they could be manually set to expend the remaining power of the battery all at once. Jameson knew that the electricity of the plasma weapon was dispersed by electro-magnetism to the target and wasn't minimized by being grounded. A level five burst striking a normal vehicle would fry the electrical system, burnout the battery and kill the alternator, so he hoped that a maximum pulse might wreak some havoc on the assault vehicle, but he wasn't going to hold his breath.

Jameson put on his safety sun glasses and transferred the rifle to his left hand, then using the side mirror as a prop engaged the auto-aim. The guns computer began to track the assault vehicle, waiting for Jameson to keep the nose of his car in direct line for just second so that it could lock on. The assault vehicle moved behind and around the other vehicles in the tunnel but Jameson stayed right on his tail. The gun locked on and Jameson without question fired sending a blinding flash of energy at the assault vehicle, so bright that even with his glasses, Jameson had to close his eyes for a brief a second. The intense blueish coloured arc lashed out, illuminating the tunnel as it bathed the area in front of Jameson's car with a powerful burst of plasma energy.

Jameson managed to hold onto the plasma rifle and for a brief moment he wasn't sure whether or not he even struck the assault vehicle or even where the road was.

"Shields activaded" the on board compture said....."Shield weaked seventy five percent .... failer emminate"
"Shit." Tim said under his breath. He pressed the turbine engine ignite button and the jet turbine ignited, lunging the assault vehicle forward. "Auto steer activate" he said suddenly the turbine flammed out. The onboard computer said "Turbine enigine failure.......auto steer failure.......evacuation of vehicle recommended."

Tim slammed on the brakes and flipped the auto destruct switch.......concentrated and time seemed to stand still as he climbed out of the asault vehicle, shut the door and ran for a storm grate in the tunnel. Lifting the grate and climbing down into the storm drain, replacing the grate above him. Two minutes latter time returned to normal.

"Auto destruct activated ......5......4.....3...2....1" the computed said. When it reached zero on the display, all the onboard electronic inside the cockpit exploded. The Vehicles armour contained the explosion to the interior of the vehicle, althought the intense heat welded the doors shut and blew the roof off. The heat also destroyed the enignes.

Tim crawled along the storm drain until it emptied out into the city's main storn drain system. From there Tim made his way to Brooklyn and an abandoned subway station drain. Climbing up the ladder he pushed the grate off and climbed out. Tim spoke into his personal secure comlink "Mother Hen Wrangler on foot. AV destroyed. Acknowledge." ...... nothing but silence answered him. Unknown to Tim his comlink had been destroyed by the pulse.

Yelena let her gaze settle on Toril for a few moments then nodded slightly as she looked back to Shawn.

“Is unfortunate training I picked up. Out of necessity.”

Her voice grew very quiet as she slowly reached out to take Shawn’s hand and held it gently in her own letting the young man know she was still there and things were going to be alright.

“We used to be looked at as good people. And we are. We cannot help what we are. Why can people not see what we are was not choice for us? Is not my fault my family was in wrong place at wrong time. Why did I live and turn into some…..thing while rest of family die? Is not fair. None of it. But I cannot change what has happened. I can only hide what I am and try to live peaceful life. Is all I want. To just….live.”

Tim’s voice broke through the comm. unit still imbedded in her ear and she blinked then looked out the window behind them.

“Copy, Wrangler. Be careful. See you back at house.”

Turning so she could see Takashi in the drivers seat, she let him know things were heating up for Tim.

“Get us to interstate, Takashi then drive at normal speed so we not draw attention to selves. Tim is being chased. He will meet us back at safe house.”

Takashi rolled the window down and pulled out another cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag of it before he nodded.

“Sure thing.”

Yelena looked back to Toril and sat down next to him, making sure there was plenty of space between them.

“I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this. No doubt Beacon had reasons for sending you….but like all things they are part of, they not show all cards in hand.”

Toril sympathized with Yelena and suddenly felt guilty for the life he enjoyed. His work in the past for Beacon had afforded him safety from the Riggs Act, because of them Wraith was able to avoid the registry and the slip away with no questions asked. He couldn't imagine what life would be like wearing a collar tethered to the scrutiny of R.A.I.D. Toril wasn't even sure how they kept track of registered meta-humans but he knew that once they had you, your life was no longer your own and he would fight to the death before letting them burn a number into his arm.

Toril could not help but over hear, Yelena respond to her comm-link and speak the name, 'Wrangler'. Another member of their group he assumed, traveling separately.

He shuffled over when Yelena sat down beside him and thought to ask her about, 'Wrangler' but didn't want to pry. When she expressed her concern for his involvement in the rescue, he dismissed his curiousity completely and concentrated on her regards toward Beacon.

"I completely agree with you." Toril mentioned, "You can never trust the motives of Beacon, but an old friend of mine came to me personally and..." he shook his head regretfully, "well, he was once my partner, long ago." Toril straightened his back against the wall of the ambulance and tossed his head over his shoulder toward Yelena and further explained why he once more threw in with Beacon. "Y'know how it is." he said with a sigh, "I wasn't ready to hang up my cape, but the Riggs Act didn't give me much of a choice and when the opportunity to get back in the game came knocking on my door, I didn't think it through." Toril tilted his back angling his square jaw toward the roof and chuckled at his impetuousness. "Guess I just yearned for the old days."

He paused for a moment and listened to the sound of the wheels rolling along the highway, then he once more cast is icy blue eyes upon Yelena. "Are you registered?" He asked, then looking around he further inquired, "With the exception of Cassius of course, are any of you registered?"

Not much for physical contact, Shawn pulled his hand away upon feeling Yelena's touch. A faint groan escaped him as the intense pain throbbed through his head. When Toril asked if any of them were registered, he was only vaguely aware that someone was speaking by the vibrations from Toril's deep, resonating tone. Silently, he rolled over onto his stomach, his already slit-like eyes squeezing shut, wincing against the fresh wave of pounding that coursed from his head and down his spine. Folding his arms beneath his head, Shawn laid gently down onto his elbows and tried to concentrate on the soothing vibrations of the road.


"Dude... registration is oppression..." said Cassius in response to Wraith's question. Then with an oddly grave look falling uncharacteristically over his shaggy face, Cassius turned towards him with one hand drifting lightly toward the handle of the gun at his side. "You agree, right, dude?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grey's world was still soft, pillow-like and carefree as he listened to the distant tone of his phone go off for the third time. Finally, still giggling to himself, he rolled off of the bed and stumbled over to his tiny bedside table to listen to the messages. One was from his nameless jerk of a boss, the other was from one of his lackeys, their voices droning as though the two messages had merged. As he stumbled back to the bed, a dreamy grin spread over his face, he was suddenly struck nearly back to a cognizant state when he heard the name on the third recording: Scavenger. While the words were clear, their meanings drifted vaguely through Grey's clouded mind and he paused, long after the message had ended, squinting and staring at nothing in particular. He then shut the phone and dropped back onto his bed, his legs hanging off of the side, slipping into a high-flying sleep.

It was after two when he called Scavenger back, not even bothering to listen to the message again. Naturally, the nocturnal meta didn't pick up.

"It's Grey," he said, "I was f***ed up when you called. What the hell were you going on about? Talk to you later."

Yelena understood more than Shawn would ever know the dislike of physical contact. So when he pulled his hand away, she wasn’t hurt nor did she take it the wrong way, she merely let the young man have his on space. He knew she was there if he needed her. That was all she was worried about anyway.

As Toril explained a little about his associate friend ex-partner from Beacon, Yelena let her gaze settle on him once more. Obviously they had manipulated and used the tall stranger in the past, just like they have today. But when he asked her rather or not she was registered, there was no doubt he struck a nerve within her and it seemed Cassius didn’t think too kindly of the question either.

Watching as the young man’s hand moved closer to his gun, Yelena caught Cassius’ gaze for a quick moment, just long enough to move her head negatively. They couldn’t take the chance of a bullet puncturing an oxygen tank and blowing them all sky high. Instead, she answered Toril’s question honestly and candidly.

“Yes. I am registered. I had no choice. When Riggs Act passed into law, all foreign meta’s were rounded up and turned over to authorities from native country. Unfortunately, that meant I was returned to Russia. Even after collapse of Soviet Union, they still hold iron fists on certain aspects of government in that area of the world. As result of Riggs Act, I am in America now, illegally. Is good thing I can blend in with others, easily.”

The tension that was on the rise in the back of the rig could be cut with a rusty knife, easily. Yelena didn’t like moments like this. It merely meant things were about to get crazy and someone would eventually get hurt. Most likely someone who was an innocent bystander. In order to try and diffuse the situation, she physically placed herself between Cassius and Toril. While she didn’t appear to be that much of a threat to the others, there was something about the way she moved between them that said she wasn’t afraid of either of them and would do what ever she had to do to make sure neither of them did anything that would cause trouble.

Glancing at Shawn, Yelena didn’t say anything for a moment. She just stared off into the distance as though she had returned to another place and time. And she had. A cold laboratory where she was immobilized and put through some of the most insane ‘tests’ she was certain there was nothing left of her humanity.

It wasn’t until the rig run over a rough pot hole and jarred her back to the present place and time that Yelena was snapped out of her memories. Blinking, she cleared those horrible memories from her mind and looked back at Toril.

“Da…they can track me. Is how they found me many times after I moved around. Locator chip was placed in body and had to have it removed so they could no longer keep track of me so easily. Doctor removed device for me but I know they still track me some how. They have already sent others to return me to Russia. So far, they fail. Unfortunately, is only matter of time before they send right one and I will be deported again.”

There was another pause.

“Or at least they try to deport. I not go so quietly again. I will fight, to death, if necessary but I not go back to that place. Is worse than anything imaginable. And I am unable to request asylum in America.”

Looking at Cassius for a moment, she returned her gaze to Toril.

“You ask what restrictions are placed on me….lots. I not allowed to leave Russia. Not allowed to own home. Is illegal for me to marry. Not allowed to have children for fear of creating new generation of species like me. Must wear tattoo on forehead visibly identifying me as non-human. If anyone seen helping me in any way, they will be punished. By death if situation is bad enough to warrant such thing.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Yelena clenched her jaw hard a few times and took several deep breaths. Opening her eyes once more there was a hardness to them that wasn’t there before.

“In other words, I am lesser being imprisoned without shackles yet forced to live in solitude because I am different from others. Much like Jews in Holocaust were treated. But, like them, I will survive. And world will see what government, not just in America, but all over world, is doing to people like us. One day.”