A/N: well, hello again. Okay, for the treasured few of you who actually read my first story, I'm sorry, but I've gotten rid of the DCR and replaced it with the sequel to "Ghost of Mine". Yes, the sequel!!!! Up to R because it will cover ADULT themes. Not sex [maybe], but drugs, pain, the like. Okay, so the big S word will be mentioned. Oh, and language.

Disclaimer: well hello, do you think Marvel would put this up on the internet like this if they owned it? So hence, I own nothing.

Without further ado, I give you....

Life's Train Ridin' on Broken Tracks

Part 1: My New Lifestyle

Chapter one: The Down City Risers and the Down City Brothers

The music started up, and people started coming in. The restaurant on the third floor opened, and people started coming in. The lounge in the second floor opened, and people started coming in. That's how most active nights went, but Fridays were always the busiest. Not just for the clubbers, who came to dance, get drunk, hope to get laid, and then find ways home via the escort service. No, most Friday nights were devoted to business deals. Record labels were discussed, possible acts for entertainment, and of course, how to get money.

The ways of getting money were often very controversial. Prostitutes, contraband, drugs, illegal aliens, all of that and more on the list. But no one thought it bad. They owned the city, not to the naked eye of course, but they had left deep marks on Main and Wall Street. People were up in the offices, getting information; people were down in the gutter of the Big Apple, getting info on gang relations. All of this done under a façade of a worthy business associate or trusted business owner. Not many knew what happened behind the mask. Not many saw what happened when the sun went down and the moon came up to glitter over the lives of the few and the proud.

Ray Crisp found himself in that crowd, the one of the few and the proud. Barely twenty-five, he had finally made it to the top. He owned a club, restaurant, went to college, lived in one of the best apartment buildings in the city, had a clear view of everything, and was living it all up... Yeah, he had it all.

Ray looked over to the person who sat beside him, Roberto De Costa. After Ray left the Institute, Roberto had followed him up, unable to stand the Mutant Crowd any longer for reasons he wouldn't say. So, Ray and he shared the rent of an apartment, and made it through school together. Ray paid his way through Business school, while Roberto finished his junior and senior year before doing the same. It was hard, but they got through it, meeting Joey Valerio along the way and getting drawn up into a life of riches, power, and secrets. Ray and Roberto grew up fast, but it paid off in the end... For the most part, anyway... ---

The meeting was in the back "Risers Room". A reserve meeting area with table, dramatic spotlights, couple computers, and couches incase the eight seats were taken up. It

Ray looked to his right, and saw another friend, Joey Valerio, son of Joseph Valerio, Sr. A born city kid, Joey had showed Ray around and hooked him up with his first job.

Also at the table were Andres, a local gangster who rarely made an appearance, (50 Cent would have competition with this black man, a person who grew up in the projects, and had a crew of thugs all the time. He wore a bullet proof vest 24/7, if that said anything. He was also the leader of a local gang known simply as "the Knock-a-rounds"), Donni "A-Jax" Valerio, Joey's brown-nosing brother, a few rich whities from Manhattan Ray couldn't name, and of course the arm candy girls who decorated a few arms, walked around serving drinks (and head, if they crawled under the table). Not a big crowd, but this was more than business.

At the head of the table, in all his mafia glory, was Joseph Valerio Senior. A balding, plump, rich Italian man, raised in the ways of the Mafia, he came over to the US with a vision, though tainted red. Thanks to him, the Underground had a sense of Order. Thanks to him, Ray and Roberto got through college. He treated Ray like family, and didn't ask for much...

"You are all probably wondering why I've asked you to come," Valerio said, leaning back in his seat. His uncharacteristically clear voice held a subtle edge of power, that hint that let you know don't interrupt or else. That voice seemed to radiate, seeping into every ear and mind; "As you see by looking around you, only the elite members of the Down City Risers are present. I've found a new... venture... a new, opportunity of sorts... that could make us all wealthy men."

Ray consciously sat up in his seat, though the comfy leather he'd chosen was inviting to just drift sleep. The floor vibrated from the music in the club, the loud voices and activities audible somewhat. Ray glanced at the two guards at the only exit. Yep, it was locked. The room was soundproof now. Something was going to happen...

Valerio rose, not a good sign, Ray thought; "This could make us millionaires," he continued; "And it won't cost more than an American dollar on our part."

"Are we attempting something out of the States, then?" one of the unfamiliar men said timidly, clearly British.

Valerio turned on his heel to face the cowering man; "As a matter of fact," he said, smirking as he continued walking around the table. Oh no, not a good sign; "Yes, but not by us leaving here. An associate of mine in Honduras wants me to help him ship up some goods. Now, this is a risky undertaking, but I'm willing to share the profit if you, my fellow brothers, are willing to... get it over the border and pass it around," he paused.

"Um, Valerio?" Ray asked, and Valerio looked at him and nodded; "What exactly are we talkin' about dealin'? Drugs, cars... stolen artifacts, what?"

Valerio chuckled; "No, Ray, nothing like that," he smirked again, a lighthearted one it seemed; "Well, drugs are a side deal. No, we are talking about gems, my friends, cold, raw gems freshly cut. Diamonds, rubies, gold..."

"So, why's this all illegal, then?" another one of the white men asked. Ray took note how the remaining silent one was constantly fidgeting, shifting his position, facing Valerio or anyone that talked. He's wired, Ray thought, maybe...

"It's on federal property, apparently," Valerio said, unconcerned; "Now, my associate has gotten these goods to the Gulf, but we need to collect them in an exchange from there..."

The other two are legit, Ray thought, his eyes still on the three. He now noticed the Brit, a William Hammle, and the other as John Sanders. But the mute was fidgeting too much. It made Ray nervous. Now he wished he'd never even said a word.

Ray kept calm, and held his hand down behind his chair. He snapped his fingers quietly, and one of Andres' thugs came over; "Yo, the mute white," Ray whispered fiercely; "Rip the wire off, take the badge in his pocket, and make sure he don't remember anything. Got it?"

"You sure?" the thug asked in a gruff whisper.

Ray nodded, turning back to the table as the thug walked over to tell two others. Valerio had stopped to watch him, and Ray simply shrugged when they made eye contact. Valerio nodded.

The three thugs surrounded the mute, who looked around in horror before glaring at Ray. Again, Ray simply smiled and shrugged as the mute was hoisted from his seat.

"Wait," Valerio said, holding up a hand. He glanced at Ray, then looked at the thugs and their next "assignment"; "What is this all about?"

"Crisp says this crackah's wired," one said, motioning to Ray.

"This true?" Valerio asked, looking at the man and nodding slowly as he thought; "Strip 'im."

Joey and Roberto tried to hide their laughter, and Ray smiled wickedly as the man glared at him again; "Why not?" Ray said, shrugging.

"What's your name, oh Silent One?" Joey asked cockily.

"Don," the man replied simply, throwing his arms from the thugs as he stepped away. But he froze when a prominent click went through the air.

Ray looked over. A-Jax had loaded his handgun, keeping it under the table for effects. Valerio smirked again, the dangerous one; "Open 'im up," he said.

In a flash, a thug had ripped "Don's" jacket and shirt away, revealing the wire taped to his chest and leading down to a small box on his belt; "Sucker's really rigged!" Joey exclaimed as the wire was painfully ripped away by a thug. Don let out a painful grunt, falling to his knees as his arms wrapped around the welts traveling down his front.

Valerio laughed as he walked over to him; "Nobody crosses the Down City Risers," he spat, kicking Don. Don let out a hollow, almost silent cry, then fell to the floor.

Andres had been handed Don's jacket, and after pilfering the pockets, produced a wallet and badge; "Look, a badge," he said in his deep, throaty voice, laughing. He slid the badge and wallet over to Joey, who took it up. After scanning it, he handed the articles over to Ray and Roberto. Ray pocketed the Badge, and Roberto pocketed the wallet. Don's heart sank—it was over.

Don managed to stand, and his clothing was thrown at him. He hastily put his shirt on, and Valerio chuckled; "What's the rush, 'Don'?" he asked, then he turned to Ray; "Ray, I don't ask or much," he said, "I want you, Roberto, and Joey to take 'Don' here to our little friend down near the Peers. Can I count on you?"

"Of course, Valerio," Ray said as the Down City Brothers rose to the cause; "We'd be happy to," he looked at Don, and managed to smirk; "Come on, let's get this guy outta here," and with a wave of his hand, Don was flanked by Joey as they headed out.

Roberto closed the door, and he flanked Ray's right as Joey took the left with Don between them. Joey's hand gripped Don's upper arm like a vice grip, ensuring that the guy wouldn't run off. Ray could feel Don's tension, but ignored it. The four walked through the lounge, taking instead the back stairwell over the main one. As they left the second floor, Don started to ponder on his demise.

They came out in the back alley, where the dumpsters were kept and the vents from the neighboring buildings poured stale air out. Ray pulled out his cellphone, looking at Roberto briefly as he did. Pressing #3, he waited as it rang.

Roberto popped his knuckles, turning to look at Don. The man was petrified, trying not to quiver. Joey was idly looking up at the sky, as if trying to find stars. "Yeah?" came the reply after four rings and silence.

"Favor?" Ray asked.

"...Gods, Crisp, don't tell me you have another one?"

"What can I say," Ray said airily, "Boss is on a roll. So, can you get a car around?"

a sigh—"Yeah, suppose I could..."

"Come on, it won't take long," Ray paused; "We're at the usual spot. Be here in five." With that, he hung up.

Ray put the cellphone back in his pocket, and looked at Joey; "What're you lookin' for, Jay, stars?"

Joey shrugged; "Why not?" he asked, looking at Ray briefly before once again continuing his search; "Damn bored jus' standin' here..."

Roberto chuckled, then he turned to Ray; "Hey Ray, got tickets for the next boxing match. In?"

"Nah, boxin' really isn't my kinda sport," Ray said, "But, thanks. Hey, take a girl with ya."

"Yeah, what girl likes boxing?"

"The ones that like gettin' in yo' pants!" Joey said, nudging Roberto as the three shared a laugh.

How can they be like this? Don thought, And they're just kids! They're acting like this is just some joke! They're acting like a life doesn't matter!

In the time stated, a short, black limo pulled up at the end of the alley, and the window rolled down; "Come on!" came the reply, a hissed whisper as a dark hand waved them over. Without another word, Joey, Roberto, and Ray rushed Don over, Ray opening the door, shoving Don in, and then all three climbed in.

Before Don could try and open the door, Joey had reached over and pulled him back. Ray had pulled out the badge, and Roberto pulled out the wallet.

"Nah no!" Roberto muttered, brow furrowed in thought as he went through the wallet, when Don reached out for his things. Roberto planted his foot by Don's knee, going through the wallet; "Hmm, Master Card... Visa... ooh, funky Driver's license," he said with a chuckle; "So, Donald Reggins, what precinct you workin' for, ah?" he looked up at the captive man.

"Works for 42nd," Ray said, tossing the badge in the air and catching it; "Right?" he looked at Don; "Come on man, your minutes are numbered anyway."

Don sighed; "Yeah," he said, "I work for 42nd," he looked at Joey, who was now idly polishing a small, silver handgun with the cuff of his sleeve.

Joey paused, and looked up; "What?" he asked; "You wanna should I just pop a cap in your ass now?" he held the gun out towards Don, who cringed against the interior.

"Hey, quit waving that thing around, Joey!" Roberto exclaimed with a look of disgust; "Honestly, what if it went off?"

"Mother hen," Joey said idly, putting the gun away.

Don sighed, and straightened up; "So," he said, "I never would have thought that you, Ray Crisp, would be in on these kinds of things. Though it's not surprising..."

"My name's not in the federal books," Ray said, "Least not in this city. I'm keepin' you alive, anyway, so don't go makin' wise cracks."

"Oh?" Don asked; "Your friend wavin' that gun around-"

"We'll give you an answer if you answer this..." Roberto said.

"Why you guys suddenly startin' to bug our meetin's?" Joey finished.

"Well, your boss is pretty big in the contraband end of the Market," Don said, leaning back; "We've been watching him for months, but we can't get anything up to the surface. So, we figured that we could get some guys in under cover-"

"There're more?" Ray asked.

"I won't give you names," Don said.

"Look, we'll get it outta ya anyway," Roberto said.

Just then the window came down; "Crisp," came a voice, deep and a little edgy; "Maximoff says dock five. Okay with that?"

"Yeah," Ray replied quietly, leaning his head towards the window; "Let's just get this done, okay?"

"You owe me big for this."

"I know," Ray sighed as the window went back up. He seemed to be in debt when it came to these kinds of thing.

The limo gave a lurch as they hit the docks, the car bouncing along the wooden boards as they went to the selected warehouse on the peer. The riders inside waited in a deathly silence until the car came to a halt. The driver got out, and opened the door. Ray got out first, then Roberto and Joey brought Don out.

"Don't freak out when we get in here," Ray said to Don; "You wanna live, right?"

Don nodded; "I have a family," he stated.

"Yeah, we don't have consciences, so don't try guilt trips, old man," Joey said, and then he and Roberto shoved Don along inside the warehouse.

Ray hung back, and turned to the driver. The man lifted his hat, and Evan Daniels made his appearance; "Lucky you and your dad invests in limos, huh?" Ray asked as they shook hands.

"Yeah, suppose so," Evan replied, smiling; "Just... man Ray, when you gonna get out? Valerio's gonna catch on, ya know. We worry about ya, man, you and Roberto both."

"Hey, we're trying," Ray said, "Keep it low though, okay? We don't want folks at the X-Inn worryin' too much."

Evan let out a quiet laugh; "Yeah suppose so. I gotta get goin', see ya Ray," he climbed back into the limo, and as he drove off Ray walked into the warehouse.

Ray walked through the rows of broken cars, finally getting to the back where a spotlight showed down on Don and the other DC-Brothers. Don was strapped down into an old barbershop chair, paler than he already was. Roberto and Joey were leaning against the seat, but backed off when Ray approached.

"Mastermind! Maximoff!" Ray said loudly.

Pietro walked out of the shadows after a burst of speed, and Mastermind followed him soon afterward; "Look Crisp, hurry it up already!" Pietro shouted impatiently; "Dad doesn't know about this."

"Yeah, neither does mine but ya don't see me whinin' about it," Joey muttered.

Pietro shot him a look, muttering under his breath about how Joey was a stuck-up mob brat. "What was that?" Joey asked, hand going to the gun in his inner jacket pocket.

"Let it go, Joey," Roberto said quietly; "Pietro's like that," Roberto looked at Pietro, who shrugged.

Mastermind walked over to Don; "What do you want me to remove?" he asked, looking to Ray.

"Everything from the past three days," Ray replied; "The stuff that's got to do with the Down City Risers, anyway. The precinct stuff too."

Mastermind nodded, but as he reached out Don let out a struggled cry and began jerking his head every which way. Roberto rushed over and held his head in place, then Mastermind took over. Roberto hastily backed off, and the four watched as Mastermind went to work.

"So, how is your dad anyway?" Roberto asked Pietro.

"Fine, why?" Pietro nearly snapped.

"Sheesh, easy Maximoff," Ray said; "And Wanda, how's she?"

"Back at the Institute after that last outburst," Pietro said quietly, glancing over at Joey.

"He's okay," Roberto said.

Joey was idly examining an engine set up on blocks; "Joey, don't," Ray warned as the inquisitive, and very stoned, young man reached out to touch a certain wire.

"Fine, fine," Joey said, sluggishly backing off and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Man, we can't let him carry a gun when he's like this," Roberto moaned.

"Okay, Mastermind's done," Pietro said, "Now we gotta go."

Mastermind backed off away from Don, who was now slumped and unconscious in the chair; "What'd you put in?" Ray asked.

"He left for work after taking early leave," Mastermind said; "And got mugged. I say dump him a block, beaten up or something, and call it a night."

"Get any names?" Roberto asked.

"There're more cops under cover." Mastermind shook his head and rubbed his temples; "I only found one," he replied finally; "A David Hofka."

Ray nodded; "Thanks again," he said.

-FOLLOWING MORNING-

OUTSIDE 42nd PRECINCT

Marcus Finch and David Hofka got out of their patrol care early Saturday morning, neither keen on working on the weekend. As they rounded the corner heading for the precinct, Marcus went ahead quickly, muttering about getting home early to sleep more. As he neared the steps, he heard his partner call out.. "Holy shit! Mark, get over here! I just found Don!" Marcus turned around. David had gone into an alley way, and dragged a badly beaten man out from it. Marcus rushed over as David dropped to his knees, and held his breath.

"No kidding? Whoa, man he looks like hell beat 'im up! Come on, get an ambulance!" Don's left temple was bruised, and dried blood caked his lips. His chest, visible through his singed shirt, seemed burnt slightly, like he had been electrocuted. He was mugged, Marcus thought, Dirty bastards who did it...

"Think this was all Valerio?" David asked as he checked a pulse. There was one, barely.

"More than likely," Marcus replied, "His wire's gone too, damnit!"

"Screw the wire, let's get Don some help!"

--------to be continued (?)-----

A/N: Well, was it good? Is it a keeper? As I said, it's a sequel, so you might be left in the dark from here on out. Review!!!!!!