[Case 03: Capturing a Lynx]

"Behind you, 10 o' clock."

Sam spun around bringing his elbow into the ribcage of his assailant, and grabbing him to toss into the next.

"How many are left?"

"Too many to fight off." Through the ear piece he could hear Mirage typing away at computer keys, "Get out there, we got what we came for."

Sam looked the thugs in front of him, one swinging a crowbar like a villain from a cheesy b-flick, blocking off the easy exists from the warehouse. He sighed as he rubbed his the package he had tucked under his arm.

"It's not going to be that easy. I'm surrounded."

"Just eight guys."

Sam ducked as the crowbar was slung at his head, switching the packaged between hands, he kicked one guy against the wall as he scrambled around the wooden boxes.

"Easy for you to say. I could do a little help here!"

Some silence passed on the line. Sam used it to jump out the way, and throw the first thing he grab at the guy behind him. The hard thunk gave him a bit of security.

"Do you still have the utility belt I gave you?"

"Yes."

"Third pouch, hit the small button, drop it, and cover your ears."

Sam jiggled his hand into the pouch, pulled out a small marble size object. A knife was thrown at him, but he ducked around the pillar as he followed Mirage's terse instructions.

As he covers his ears he watched as the object bounce down to where the rest of the goons where, it blinking like a boom….

Enough though it as muffled, Sam could make out the piercing shriek that filled the air, loud enough that the boxes rippled around collapsing to the floor. Sam grabbed the package and ran to the roof.

"What was that?"

"It was once called the Cat Shriek," Mirage replied, the disembodied voice becoming slightly amused, "but I guess you call it your Mountain Lion Howl, Lynx."

Sam scowled into the darkness, "Very funny."

Minutes later he was on his motorcycle cruising along with a stature cradled close to him, with a busted a lip and the usual bruises on his face. Wondering why he was doing this again but he knew why, it all started with a text message a month ago that lead him to a library.

He hadn't been in the superhero business for long. Just had a homemade costume and was punching out bad guys that he knew were affiliated with the League's main enemies. But he did recognize the name of who sent him the text.

Mirage.

Everyone heard of Mirage even if not many people knew who he was.

The infamous computer hacker and informant who popped up five years ago had become a vital informant for the League. He was everywhere and nowhere it seemed he not only provided information to the League and the LPD, but periodically curtailed the top card carrying villains, such as General Hydra, Honey Badger, and Maestro from making advances through the great information highway.

So maybe it was curiosity that led Sam him to join this odd operation to go to the local Lima library and pick up a book.

Luckily for him the library was fairly empty that day, because he sure he looked like a fool trying to find a title of a book and not knowing where to start. After shuffling through the dusty stacks Sam descended on the librarian shifting through books behind the desk rolling between stacks in a wheelchair with small light up wheels.

"You're looking for that," the librarian had said, "it was put on hold this morning."

The book Sam had picked up from the library had a card that gave codes to open a lock box. Inside the lockbox was a key, and that key unlocked a room in a rather nice apartment, that other being furnished and a pretstocked fridge had a small box sitting on the counter containing an ear piece and a computer tablet.

Both items, Sam found as he turned them on, was a direct link to Mirage who periodically sent him all over the place on odd missions.

And from there the partnership was formed.

Sam wasn't super like the Capers he would see in the news, like Braveheart or Dasher. All he had was a super enhanced durability, which meant he could stand getting hit and be off his feet longer than most regular folk. And while Mirage had the knack of sending him in tough spots, the perks of the job more than made up for it. Only a month in he was making more than pizza delivery job and subbing ever did, not to mention his mysterious boss made arrangements to dropped off a portion of earnings anonymously for his siblings who were still in rotation in foster care.

He didn't who Mirage was, but the man helped Sam keep an eye of Stevie and Stacy as well, not just making sure his siblings were safe and sound, but keeping aware of music recitals, soccer games, and science fairs, even their grades. Making him feel even if he wasn't there he was close enough to love them even from afar. And that was enough for him, though he did want some downtime soon.

Stopping at the designated drop off, Sam slid the small statue into the mailbox, and zoomed off in the darkness going home to lick his wounds.

"So I'm an errand girl?"

"Driver would be more accurate." Artie looked up from the computer screens, "How did you get in?"

"You rotate the same passwords in a pattern. I always make sure to check on them since the last time you didn't answer you accidentally tripped up your own security."

"That was an accident. I was just trying something." He looked back at the screens where the scanners there just compiling information on the various targets he was tracking. "Again I ask why you're here? You could have just called."

"You left a box with a com-link and cryptic message. Wheels, I may not know you as well as Tina does, but I still remember your old gaming codename."

Artie scowled, "I thought it was a classic."

"Yeah, classic as it was sticking me on the guard duty again. It's not the four of us like it was before, you have a new team and a new guy running around doing legwork, why can't I do it?"

"Your enhanced hearing makes you perfect for lookout," Artie replied tapping a key that showed a picture from some of their biggest exploits, with a side by side comparison of her stats from five years ago.

Mercedes leaned over and tapped a key banishing the images. She leaned towards him menacingly. "I can also hit a direct shot on a bottle cap a rooftop away, a little skill that came in help before."

Artie met her gaze and slowly folded his hands together patiently, "The operation is more about stealth, not shooting people and blowing things up."

"Most of the time," she amended, "I don't want to be a getaway car."

"You forget lookout."

Mercedes gave him a foul look.

Artie turned away from the computer, wheeling his chair towards her.

"Sam almost got caught the other night. He refuses to wear a mask, and he doesn't have the skills to stay hidden. And if needed, you're back up. It's not like someone from the League will always be flying around."

Mercedes's expression cleared. "I get to fly a jet?"

"Helicopter for now," he added, "If you stay on that may change."

"Do I get to shoot things?"

"If you're lucky."

She seemed appeased and as Artie turned back to the console, she exclaimed suddenly.

"We should have a name!"

"No, we don't."

"That's why we need one."

"Trust me, we don't- hold on."

One of the screens pulsed and Artie dragged it over quickly scanning the complicated code before him.

Mercedes whistled slowly as she stared at it, "What in the world are you up to now Wheels?"

"Nothing much," he tapped a button calling up Sam, turning on the voice modulator. "I got a job for you," he said sending the essential information, "hope you rested up."

Across town, Sam stood on the landing of his apartment building clutching a notice in one hand wondering if he could risk getting away with strangling his landlord.

"I would ignore that," on the stairs was who appeared to be the mysterious occupant in room 306. Sam was never around the apartment long enough to meet any of his neighbors. It was how he insulted quite a few by accident, but this tenant was gone more often than he was it seemed. Sam had suspected from chatter he had overheard that his neighbor designed clothes for models and his attire screamed it right down to the way he was looking down on Sam's clothes.

He ignored it smiled. He was trying to be low key after all. And that doesn't happen when you form relationships with your neighbors.

"Bryan Ryan just targets everyone he suspects to be Capers thinking he can blackmail us. I think he's a Mundane but doesn't have the talent to register."

Sam's neighbor walked down the stair his knee high boots clicking on each stair as he descended. "Of course someone isn't running around with their underwear over their tights doesn't have mundane powers. You moved in last month didn't you?" he said, "Kurt Hummel."

Realized he had extended a hand, Sam hastily took it, surprised at not only how soft but firm his grip was. Sam. Sam Evans."

"It's always nice to meet neighbors," Kurt slung his bag over his shoulder and continued along, "you should use lemon juice, so you won't ruin your hair."

"I don't dye my hair."

Kurt just waved a hand as he descended the stairs.

"I hope you rested up. I need you to assist on a job."

"With who?" Sam said still staring at the spot where Kurt had disappeared too before walking towards his apartment.

"Let's just say you might see a familiar face."

Sam paused, "How familiar?"

The line went dead.

"I hate when he does that," Sam muttered before his grabbed his keys and gym bag.

There were a number people that come to mind. Both pleasant and unpleasant. One that came to mind almost immediately was the poisonous Viperess who not only managed steal right under his nose but made fun of his lips. But then was Braveheart and Haymaker who were pretty chill despite nearly getting his bike wrecked.

Hopefully it was someone who he could get along with.