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Striker is a 16 year old girl that dresses herself like a boy and always acts tough. She has short brown hair, icy blue eyes, height of 5'7, and weighed a good 128 lbs. She is skilled in martial arts, fighting, and making good comebacks at rude comments. She always wore baggy shirts, pants, and a black and grey stripped hat that kept her eyes shielded from all who saw her. She lives in Brooklyn, New York and was a Newsie. She was good friends with the Manhattan Newsboys (Newsies), who worked under Jack Kelly. Her best friend was a boy named Racetrack Higgins.
Striker Magee headed towards Manhattan. She was going to meet her good friend Racetrack Higgins near the Sheepshead Racetrack. On the way, she tripped and toppled over a young mans legs, who stood immediately and said, "Watch where ya're goin', boy." His pale, icy blue eyes scanned Striker's and he huffed and walked past, bumping into her, hitting her left breast, since she was a women. Striker growled back and walked after the boy since the racetrack was the same way.
Suddenly, an arm flew out of an alley and grabbed her arms. She fought violently to get away when a voice whispered in her ear, "You'se can try an' get away, Strikah, but you'se never gunna get away from us." Striker kicked her left leg backwards and hit the man's head with her own and stepped forward a few steps to turn and face the gang called the Rebels Pickpocket. The leader of the group stepped out from the shadows and Striker hissed, "'Ello, Sunshine."
The leader smirked and his grey eyes glistened. "Welcome home, Strikah." He looked around the alley and added, "Membah this place? You'se got beat here often. We'd leave ya as a bloodied pulp and then that Racetrack guy came and helped you'se to the Lodgin' House with Jack Kelly and them." Striker looked around herself and got reminded of her old times there. She suddenly turned and ran to a wall and leaped over it. She quickly continued running as the gang chased after her.
She managed to get to the racetrack just in time to get in the mists of the huge crowd entering the track. Her head popped up from the crowd a few minutes later to see the gang had left. She looked around and saw Racetrack Higgins waving his arms and waving her to come over. "Strikah!" he panted and then looked slightly worried. "What happened to you'se? Ya looked like ya saw a ghost or sumthin." He slung an arm over her shoulders and smirked. "Well not ta worry, Race is herah. Always an' forevah."
That evening in the Manhattan Lodging House for the Manhattan Newsies, Striker and another friend of hers were talking. "Strikah, your very quiet," stated an 18 year old boy and the leader of the Manhattan Newsies, Jack Kelly, looking into Striker's bold icy blue eyes. Striker smirked gently and said, "Jackie-boy, I have a few things I've kept secret for years from you'se guys." She stood up and headed for the roof with Jack following close behind her.
Once on the roof, she sat down with her legs hanging over the side and she said to Jack who sat down next to her, "Jack, I'm not a boy." Jack looked at her. "You'se not a boy?" he asked. "What?" He looked confused so Striker quickly added, "Jack, I've been deceiving you'se and the othah boys. I'm really a female by da name of Tasha McConnell. I used ta live in Ireland and moved ta New Yoik about 8 yeahs ago, where you first met me." Jack scratched his head and asked, "You'se really named Tasha? Well, Tasha, nice ta meets ya. I'se Jack Kelly, but some call me Cowboy."
Striker laughed and said, "So ya don't mind, do ya?" Jack shook his head and shrugged. "Not really, Strikah. We just can't let those othah boys find out," he said, smiling and stood up, pulling her up with him. Together they headed down the fire escape, when Striker stopped and said, "I'll meet ya down there in a few minutes. Okay, Jack?" He nodded and slipped into the window and disappeared.
"Hey, Cowboy!" a voice yelled behind Jack. Jack looked to the voice and smirked. "Hey, Kid," he said, patting the boys shoulder. Kid Blink blinked and asked, "Where's Strikah? Race needs 'im for a pokah game." Jack threw a thumb to the window and said, "S-He's on the roof." He quickly walked away and sat on his bed.
Kid Blink scratched his head and sighed. He climbed out of the window and headed up to the roof. He saw Striker with the black and grey striped hat off her head and he saw slightly long brown hair cascading down to her shoulders that he never had seen before. He squeaked and walked up to her. "Hey, Strikah, what's with da long locks?" Striker grabbed the hat and stuffed her hair under it and stood up. "May I help ya?" she asked, harshly. She looked at Kid Blink over her shoulder and he shook his head. "Race needs you'se help on a pokah game. He's getting' his butt kicked by Bumlets," he said, quietly.
Striker's eyes softened as she said, "I'm sorry, Kid. I didn't mean fo' that ta come out so mean. Please fo'give me." Kid Blink waved his hand and replied, "That's okay, Strikah. I know ya didn't mean that." Striker and Kid Blink headed downstairs and Striker walked over to Racetrack. "Hey, Race," Striker said, calmly, her eyes flickering over to Jack to see if he was sleeping and much to her delight, she found he was. Race looked at her and said, "Good, me lucky friend is herah." She smirked and sat beside him. She glanced at his cards and then at the other's faces. She saw Mush had a bad hand by the way he was mumbling over what card to pick and Bumlets was smiling to himself, signifying he had a good hand. And lastly, Boots was growling at his cards, which he threw down and said, "I fold."
He pushed his chair back and added, "I'm headin' ta bed. Night all!" Everyone yelled their good nights to Boots and then went back to what they were doing. She saw Bumlets set his cards down and he had a good hand. Mush's face hardened as he threw his cards down and said, "I fold as well." His New York accent was less developed as some of the Newsies for he had only been with them for about 5 or 6 years. Now it was just between Race and Bumlets. "Change those two cards," Striker whispered to Race as she pointed to the cards. Race threw those down and said, "Two." He got the two cards and much to his delight, they were the cards he needed to make his hand a winning hand. Striker smirked as he set his cards down.
Bumlets sighed and pushed the winnings that were in the middle of the table to him. Race counted his money and said, happily, "Twelve dollars and 81 cents!" Everyone cheered and Race handed Striker 6 dollars. "That's for bein' me luck. Now I got all the ma'bles." He smirked and walked to his bed. After pushing his winnings into his pockets, he climbed into bed and fell asleep moments later.
Striker stood up and walked over to Mush. "Hey, Mush," she says, holding out a dollar. "Take this. I don't need money." Mush looks at her and then takes the dollar. "Are you sure?" he asks. She smiles and nods. "Yeah, I'm sure," she mutters, walking over to her bunk which was underneath Boots' bed. She pulled the covers over her body and fell asleep after yelling, "Anyone who wakes me up, before Kloppy comes, I'll kill ya'll!" Everyone in the bunkroom heard her and laughed nervously, and then they all hissed, "Shh!" to each other, knowing she was telling the truth for she had taken the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies down before.
The next morning, standing outside of the Circulation Building, Striker and Racetrack were leaning on the wall waiting for their turn to get their papes. Jack got 100 papes and then Race stepped up. "50 papes," he stated. He glanced at Striker as the 50 newspapers were handed to him. He slung them over his shoulder and stepped back to let Striker get hers.
Jack walked over to Striker and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "News has been goin 'round, Strikah that your old gang's in town. Is it true?" Striker nodded slowly and said, "Yeah, I'm gunna head to Brooklyn and see Tin Pin and Ashtray." Jack nodded and said, "I'll go with ya. I gotta see Spot anyways." Race looked at the two and sighed. "Where you goin'?" he asked as Jack and Striker began to walk away. That was odd, as Jack always waited for the other Newsies to get their papes and Striker always waited for Racetrack, Mush, Boots, and Bumlets, but now both were walking towards Brooklyn. He sighed and went back to waiting for Bumlets, Boots, and Mush.
Jack and Striker were nearing the Brooklyn Bridge when Striker felt a sudden chill run down her spine and enter her heart. Her heart skipped a beat as she muttered, "Gunshot an' the gang..." She growled and looked around, her footsteps still moving her to the bridge. Jack saw her sudden alertness and began to look around as well, hoping to be of some use. Since he wasn't, he just stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She shrugged him off and said, "I'm trying to listen to my instincts." She listened closely and smiled gently. "Well, he's here," she concluded.
Just as she said that, a group appeared behind her. Grey eyes appeared over her shoulder and black hair fell into the grey eyes. Hands held her arms at her sides and she just rested her head on the shoulder of her holder. "'Ello, Sunshine," she said, smiling once more. The one holding her whispered back, "'Ello, Strikah, nice ta see ya again." Striker just nodded and replied, "Oh, yes so good ta see ya, Gunshot." She cocked her eyebrow and looked at Jack. Jack blinked and mouthed, "What are you'se doing? You bloody crazy!" She smirked and mouthed back, "I know what I'm doin." The hands holding her relaxed and that's when she spun around, breaking free and yelled, "Run, Jack! Go get Spot, Ashtray, Short-stuff and Tin Pin! Tell 'em Strikah's in trouble!"
Jack nodded and ran to Brooklyn. They were already across the bridge, so it should have been a few minutes, but when he got to the Brooklyn Lodging House, he saw no one. "Tin Pin! Short-stuff! Someone! SPOT!" he yelled, screaming Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn Newsboys, name. A head popped out of a window and shouted, "Spot ain't herah! He went lookin' for Strikah, since he nevah came home last night after vistin' you'se guys!" Jack grabbed his hair and yelled, "Well, is Ashtray, Tin Pin, or Short-stuff herah!" The boy looked away and then replied, "Yeah. Their comin' down now!" The boy turned away from the window and disappeared inside. Suddenly the door of the Lodging house opened and three boys ran out. Ashtray was a 15 year old boy with grayish blonde hair, grey eyes, height of 5'8, and he weighted a good 167 lbs. Tin Pin was 17 years old and he had rusty colored hair, brown eyes, height of 5'4, and he weighed 110 lbs. The last boy to run out was Short-stuff. Short-stuff wasn't short anymore. He'd gotten his name when he was 13 because he was still only 5'3 in height, but at 16, he sprouted up and grew to an amazing 6'1 in height. He now weighs 213 lbs, has ash blonde hair and green eyes.
Jack told the three boys what had happened and they looked at each other. "Gunshot came lookin' for 'im earlier today, but we told 'im 'e'd gone to Manhattan ta visit Jack Kelly," Short-stuff said softly. Jack went wild, but Ashtray quickly added, "We didn't know who or why 'e was lookin' for 'im, so we just told 'im where 'e was." The three of them shook slightly in fear of Jack and Tin-Pin piped up, "'E was quite the decent sort when 'e was talkin' with us." Jack ignored him and took off running. Ashtray, Tin Pin, and Short-stuff followed behind him and they soon arrived at the Brooklyn Bridge, only to see Striker wasn't there. They saw, also, that none of the pickpockets were there either...
"Shit!" Jack yelled stamping his foot. "There're gone!" He began to search frantically for any clue as to where they went. He turned his head when he felt a tug on his pants. He looked down and saw a little girl tugging on his pants. "Yes?" he asked, trying to be gentle. The girl looked up at him and said, "Bad men took boy!" She pointed and Jack nearly kissed her, he was so thankful. He turned and fled in the direction the girl was pointing.
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