"Of course, sir."

"Yes, the girl's still missing; but we have an pretty good idea of who's helping the little brat."

"Yes, sir; we have all our the first resort men on it."

"Next transmission to be around 23 hundred hours."

Fisk slammed the small blue phone headpiece down into the same blue set holder, almost throwing them both off the desk; muttering; "Stupid asshole." He picked up a folder looking at the picture of two young girls, faint laughter coming to his lips as they twisted into a sneer.

"We're going to bury you, little girl. Sorry little case you are. No one you trust is even a friend, anymore."

With another gruff laugh Fisk closed and threw the folder on the top of the desk in the dimly lit room and picked up his bomber jacket, slipping it on. The man was seemly shady, slipping out of the office turning off the light. Looking at him walking through the warehouse; he was a character. He wore old and worn dark blue jeans and a simple green shirt under the bomber jacket. A bit of stubble on the face that seem all to lost in his next deed. Shaggy black hair and small grayish eyes under a pair of cheap imitation sunglasses; that looked as if they hadn't seen sleep in ages.

As the door had closed the gust of air knocked one picture across the gaping space between table and floor, it landing with a soft small sound. An intricate and utterly innocent picture. The picture of innocence, youth, and beauty. She was a young girl; couldn't be more than 16, maybe 17. Her eyes seemed younger and older still at the same second. She was leaning back across the front of a car, long blonde hair and bright pink John Lennon glasses. A bright laughing smile and her fingers in a peace sign to the camera. She seemed, inevitably......happy.

************************************************************

Jean nodded in the silence, promising; but Remy was already slipping away as she did. It was good to be alone for a moment. To breathe her own air without being watched over. Her eyes followed him slowly discretely since he made not a single sound. Half of her heart was beating excitedly. Who else her age got to do this sorta thing? It was an adventure. A terror. It made her breath catch in her throat and her heart sop at some points; when she forgot to analyze it all. She just took it in for a few seconds. In some crack watching and keeping safe. She muffled a yawn into her pale hand smothering even the faintest sound.

For a moment a scene from the Little Mermaid blast across Jean's mind, with no recollection of where exactly it came from. Picture centered on the fish -Flounder, was it? Or something like that?- and he was in the treasure ship, trying to seem brave; the line glittered her memory. "Excitement........Adventure........Danger lurking 'round every corner" the little fish mummered not even seeing the shark looming right behind him and the glass windows of the ship, preparing to attack. And for a sudden second it felt as if her heart stopped.

(Am I in over my head?)

She looked left and right for a second. Damn, she lost him in the shadows. She hoped and prayed for a second that he was okay and then almost laughed at the thought. The boy looked even though he was her age that he'd been on his own and doing fine for a while now. Who was he to need anyone hoping and praying for him? The thought stayed a while, but it was still pushed over by the faint hope in her that he would alright while a faint frown formed, thinking she was too soft towards people.

Pushing the slow forming anxieties from her mind and body she calmed; but only momentarily, before terror took over as a hand clamped harshly over her mouth, giving her no room to make but the smallest unheard noise and she was brutally yanked from the crack where she was hiding.

((Oh, god, Not again))

**********************************************************

Walking back from a different room across the warehouse floor Fisk's ears caught the faint noise. Genetically enhanced -even if the man was one of the greatest sneaks his shoes made the slightest sound of friction on the ground- and his mechanical hyper senses picked it up. He listened for barely a second longer.

"Remy Lebeau."

The speaking through the silence -Fisk's loud booming voice- the words were more a statement of amussement than a greeting or an accusation. Turning with an arrogant grin his eyes studying the large dark room focusing almost perfectly on where he is in the darkened shadows and dimmed light. They'd work together before -long ago- but that was before Remy had 'gone soft' as Fisk put it at lightest.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. You know you can't hide from me, or surprise me, Lebeau. This game is stupid."

Faintest rise in heart breath and breath was all noted surprise from the man on the other side of the warehouse from Fisk. He laughed suddenly as it happened.

"You've given them a run for their money, you know. It doesn't matter though, you must realize someone else took the fall of course, don't you? But where's your beautiful and sweet little accomplice, Wild Card?"

"Here, boss."

From the sam direction came a burly a man suddenly another man from the past. Lumberjack big and brawn to match it. He didn't need to be so much enhanced because of his fighting skills. Curly Joe, with Jean walking right in front of him. One of the mans hands was calmped firmly over the young girls mouth and her hair on one side and the other had a gun next to her right temple on the otherside.

"I got the little girly."

Considering her wake of fear that she was now living in, Jeanie's eyes were barely open and the little they were focused on was taking steps and the circle of metal that pressed against her temple. Pressed the edge of her life with it's very cold being, reminding her just how mortal she was.