Author's Note: Part of my self imposed challenge to see if I can start and finish a fic in a week. Expect frequent updates and maybe some character death. Maybe. I'm thinking about it. Also, I know this OC is unlikable. That's sort of the point. And if you think you don't like him now, wait. It'll get worse.

The thing is, I didn't know he was Iron Man's friend.

I didn't mean to bring down the wrath of God on us with a single stupid mistake. But we needed young viable organs and he was alone at night. It was easy enough to slip behind him, follow him from a distance before rushing him. One cholorformed rag later I made the call to Galochio to pick him up. He was there in minutes, while I minded the unconscious body from the shadows of an alley. Good old New York, where nobody saw or they pretended not to see. Didn't matter much which way it went down. In a few minutes he was loaded up and I was on the prowl again, searching for someone else young and disposable looking. I hadn't been in this particular racket for long, though I'd been dabbling in extra income for as long as I could remember. To some people, the events of this night were a tragedy. For me, it was Tuesday.

I think I ended up calling it a night around three. That was eleven people and five hours later. The drive back was nothing extraordinary, a typical December night. The world was pristine and coated in sparkles. My youngest daughter's birthday was coming up and I needed to ask my boss if I could have the day off for it, since I knew I was going to be working Christmas. I never saw Iron Man pass overhead, never got a heads up over the phone that he was lurking nearby. He simply appeared in front of my car, in all his glory. My inky black eyes went wide only because I was startled. I wasn't scared. There was no way on God's green Earth that he could know what I'd done already. I had done much worse things without drawing the wrath of any of New York's superheroes.

"Officer," he said in greeting, almost casually.

I adjusted my cap habitually as I got out of the car, giving him my best serious expression. "Iron Man, sir. What brings you here at this hour?"

The next thing I knew I was in the air, held up by one arm. Sudden movements always hurt, but this was truly unexpected. I stared at him in genuine shock. Iron Man wasn't the freaking Punisher. He was one of the nice guys, the golden boys of superheroes. He didn't pull things like this; he wouldn't seriously hurt me. I told myself that repeatedly as his blue white glowing eyes bore into my own ink colored ones. If he did hurt me it would be unprovoked assault on an officer of the law. There was nothing to be afraid of.

"You have traces of Rhodey's DNA on you. I've heard rumors about your precinct. It doesn't take a genius like me to figure it out. What did you do to him, you sick freak?" Even with the distortion of the helmet, it was clear he was about ready to tear me a new one.

Admit to nothing, I heard my mother's voice say in my head, dredged up from the depths of memory. Lie like the bastard you are. I opened my mouth to put my quick tongue to use. "Allegations against my precinct are being investigated by Internal Affairs! They can tell you themselves that we're innocent! I've been working all night, just ask dispatch!"

He seemed to consider this. "Alone?" he asked coldly.

"Do you have any idea how thin we're stretched? I've been on solo patrol for months!" I decided to appeal to his moral decency. "Look, whatever grudge you have against the police, you can't afford to take it out on random officers. Think of the people who're looking at you as a role model. Think of yourself. Do you really want warrants issued for your arrest because of unlawful assault?"

My left arm was growing numb from him holding me by the wrist. My right hand instinctively went to my neck, to clutch at the rosary my mother had given me forever ago. It was a powerful talisman. Nobody ever suspected the religious of being guilty, for one thing, but for another it was also the first thing she ever bought me after murdering my father. It signified the end of our abuse at the hands of a madman and the start of our new lives, lives with control. It reminded me that while I was in the air right now, I was still in the right. There wasn't a court alive that would take Iron Man's crazy accusations over my solemn word. Even if he did somehow have trace DNA he could pinpoint on me, all that proved was that at some point I'd touched the missing person. I could come up with something about having stopped him on patrol...

He looked at me, my expression, my rosary, my face. And he lowered me to the ground, slowly. "Alright, let's try this again. Have you seen a black teenage boy in a gray wind breaker tonight?"

"Yeah," I gasped, rubbing at my sore wrist. "Yeah, I did. Around ten something. I stopped him on suspicion of illegal activity - we have a lot of drug runners who're in that age bracket. He was clean so I let him go."

I looked into his eyes, because people always believed me if I did that. I had black puppy dog eyes that were always a lot more sincere looking than I ever was. My uniform clearly marked me as an officer. I was in my damn car driving well within the speed limit on my scheduled route for patrol. All of this and more must've went through Iron Man's mind as he studied me, watched my every move. The bruises on my arm were going to be fun to explain to my wife and children tomorrow, but I could keep this encounter a secret if it kept me off Iron Man's shit list.

"If you need to find someone, you can fill out a missing person's report," I offered up in a softer tone of voice. "Anonymously, even. Maybe put a word in to the surrounding precincts. You shouldn't resort to violence with Registration staring us all down. If you don't trust cops, well, I won't deny that we've failed people. But you have to think of self preservation. Think of your friend. Alienating the police won't help you find him."

"Fine," he said tersely. "I believe you. For now. Don't make me regret that, Officer..."

"Donato. Vittore Donato."

"Let me make something very clear, Officer Donato. If I find out that you're involved in this, you won't be able to run farther than I can fly. Got it?"

I nodded. "Yes sir."

He flew off, and I waited a few seconds before collapsing into the seat of my car, staring ahead at nothing and clutching my rosary in my good hand until there was a cross shaped imprint in my palm. What had I done? My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do. I settled for calling Galochio, inhaling slowly and trying not to panic. He was onto us, but we hadn't lost the fight. We had a slight problem. We were clever. We operated in a city filled to the brim with heroes. If I could get word to the Boss, he could mastermind something at the last second like he always did, and we would pull out ahead. This calmed my breathing as I waited for Galochio to pick up the phone.

Evil will always triumph, because good is dumb. The fact that this instance of 'dumb' was in a flying suit of armor he'd custom created didn't matter. Because, after all, he wasn't the only one with friends. And my friends had been at this a lot longer than this chump had probably been alive. They'd faced down people a lot more dangerous and won. If push came to shove, I knew that Galochio, Zotello and I could kill him. It would take careful coordination, we might have to beg forgiveness rather than ask permission, but it could be done. A plan formed in my head, as it always did during times of crisis, a beautiful path that ended in his murder and immediate promotions for anyone brave enough to dare get involved. As Galochio picked up and asked casually in Italian what was going on, I smiled.

We had not yet begun to fight.