Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Disney does.

Chapter 5:

The one window in the basement, which Javier had made his office, gave a view of an endless stream of shoes. All day and all night they passed by, a few inches away, but so distant. They pounded away, none stopping to take a closer look at the building or even pausing to consider who lived there. They just passed by, a few inches above those in the basement.

Javier stood by this window, watching the feet walk by. His arms were crossed across his chest and he put all his weight on one leg, leaning slightly in that direction. He appeared bored and casual, except for the thoughtful furrows in his forehead and the frown upon his lips. His expression was enough of a clue for any Bronx newsie to realize that he should only be disturbed for the truly important.

Harold could see this as he hovered by the door. He was torn between bringing Javier's wrath down upon his head by disturbing him and bringing his wrath down upon his head by failing to carry out his orders. He could not tell what his leader was thinking, but he could see it was serious. There were some serious things that could be interrupted, like personal thoughts. However, knowing Javier, it was very likely he was thinking of plans for the war or other things that truly mattered. To disturb that type of thought could result in ruining a brilliant plan. Not only would this hurt the Bronx, but Javier would be angry.

On the other hand, Javier wanted this news. He had expressly asked for it to come quickly. It was possible that the news would help him with the war and that withholding it was causing problems. Harold hesitated a moment longer, the best thing he could have done.

Javier suddenly turned from the window, disgusted, though he knew not whether it was with the view or himself for caring. He frowned at the floor, so Harold had the opportunity to slip in without being caught hesitating.

"Javier? I told Isabel you wanted to see her."

Javier looked up from the floor to Harold's face. He nodded and motioned for Harold to continue. Harold let out a small sigh of relief and finished.

"She had to finish her part of the laundry, but she's coming now," he informed Javier quickly. His leader nodded again, then dismissed him.

It was only a moment later that the door creaked open and a head appeared through the crack.

Javier was not looking at the door, but he knew who it was. It had been a long time since they had been alone, so his mood lifted slightly. It would have flown higher had the reason for the visit not been business.

"Come in," his voice resounded in her ears. She took a deep breath, her heart fluttering with both excitement and fear. She smiled nervously as she looked at him. She never liked when he was too busy for her. After all, he was the only bright spot in her life as a newsie. It was with a slight spring in her step and trembling legs that she walked across the room.

Javier had turned his gaze back to the window and did not watch as she approached. When she finally reached him, he waited for a time that felt like an eternity to Isabel before he looked at her.

She stood and waited for him to speak. Every few moments, hope would surge up, telling her that he might not have called her for business. However, she admonished it and reminded it that she was happy to help Javier and should not expect anything from him. She loved any time spent with him.

He watched her for a few moments. Her eyes were focused on the floor and her long lashes shielding them from view. He could, however, see the slight blush coloring her cheeks. For a moment, he was disappointed that it was not pleasure that had called for the visit. However, there were important matters to be discussed, more important than these silly feelings.

"Isabel," her head snapped up when he spoke, bringing her full attention to his words. When he saw the guarded hope in her eyes, he again felt a twinge, but only a twinge, of guilt. Again he reminded himself that the war was the pressing thing. "I have a job for you."

She nodded. She had known it was business. She had told her hope that it was wrong. However, she still felt a pang of disappointment. Her hope had not listened.

"How much do you know about this war of mine?" Javier questioned as he made his way to his chair. He sat down and looked expectantly at Isabel, who had followed him over.

"Well," she began quietly. "I don't know much. It's against Manhattan and Brooklyn. If... When we win, you will have control over Manhattan... I don't know any more."

"All right, I'll help you," his voice was soft and cool, but professional. He was all business now. "Which is more of a threat to me: Manhattan or Brooklyn?"

"Brooklyn," she responded nervously.

"Good," his tone was the same as before. "Who leads Brooklyn?"

"Spot Conlon," she answered, desperately searching for the reasoning behind his questions.

"Good. You know more than you thought," he replied. "Now, I want to weaken Brooklyn. What is the best way to hurt a group?"

"Through the leader," Isabel was not quite sure of this answer, but Javier's smirk assured her that it was correct.

"Right again. I have a plan to weaken Conlon. Do you know who his best friend is?"

"No, I'm sorry," Isabel whispered, lowering her gaze to Javier's hands as her cheeks reddened.

"Slingshot Laurent," he told her, leaning back in his chair. "Now, here is my plan. I want you to go to Brooklyn and make yourself... available to Laurent. As you two get closer, I'll see what I can do with him. We may be able to bring him over to our side, at best. He'll at least have some doubts about fighting the home of his girl. And with the leader's best friend unsure, who knows how many other newsies will doubt or even oppose Conlon. When can you leave?"

Isabel had stared at his hands for the duration of his explanation, thoughts flying through her head and tears welling up. She had thought these jobs were over. It had been common, during Javier's early years as the Bronx leader, for her to have a romance with an opposing force so she and Javier could use the relationship to destroy or persuade his opponent. However, Javier had established himself over the years and opponents dwindled. Isabel had not missed the unpleasant work, preferring to take care of the newsies' laundry and rooms.

However, it was not only the unpleasant nature of the job that turned her from it and brought tears to her eyes. The more important reason that she hated to do it was that it convinced her that Javier thought little of her happiness and cared not with whom she associated. He could not care for her if he did not mind sending her off to be with another boy. This hurt.

All of her feelings were voiced in one, quietly spoken, short word.

"No."

"What?" Javier jumped out of his seat and towered over Isabel. His eyes blazed in anger and his lips were pressed together in fury. His right hand tightened into a fist, but remained at his side. What was this? It was not normal for the peaceful, quiet Isabel to argue. Had Javier not completely switched over to business, he would have considered what had aroused such strange behavior. As it was, he was infuriated by the possibility of her ruining his plans.

Isabel seemed to shrink in her fear, but did not back down. She had surprised herself with her response, but was not ready to take it back. "I don't want to," her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Isabel, it's not a question. I told you to do it. Are you going to listen or do you need to be convinced?" he spoke slowly, keeping his anger in check, though the emotion was obvious enough.

When she did not nod or verbally agree, he raised his hand up. They stared at one another for a moment, but she still did not concede. Javier moved his hand back a bit more, it was now over his shoulder, nearly behind his head. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the blow.

For a moment, it seemed as though he would do it. It seemed as though he would hit her. He was almost wanted to, but he knew that it was wrong. Javier would never hit a female. He had raised himself by this code and held his newsies to it as well. It was unfair to hurt her. She was frightened. His expression softened into one of pity at the realization. Slowly, he lowered his hand. Instead, he placed it softly on her cheek, all anger erased.

Isabel flinched, but opened her eyes. She was confused and searched his face for a hint as to what he was thinking. He no longer looked angry, but there was something about him that told her she was not going to win.

When he spoke again, his voice was smooth, persuasive, and falsely gentle. "Isabel, I need you to do this for me. It won't be so bad. It's only for a little while and it will help us all. I wouldn't send you to do something bad, would I? Don't you trust me?" He kept his hand on her cheek as he spoke, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She felt herself blush. She was all too aware of his hand on her face and the proximity of his face. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she felt as though her lungs were closing up. Half of her knew he was lying, but the other half hoped he was telling the truth. Maybe he would care for her if she did this for him. Maybe he would finally see her as more than the little girl he grew up with. Maybe.

"I'll do it."

"That's my girl," he answered, words she wanted to hear, but in a different tone. He removed his hand and backed away. "Now go get ready."

The words cut through to her heart, dashing cold water on her hopes. She left without another word or glance at him. Javier watched her leave the room and hoped that it would not be bad for her. It should not be; he had heard that Sling was kind, as newsies go.

After a moment more of consideration, he brushed it off. She would be fine and, if something did go wrong, he could fix it. Sling was not his greatest obstacle. He had a war to begin.

The note had only been a warning. The first attack, Javier decided, would also come from his side. Accordingly, Javier had met with a group of Bronx newsies, carefully chosen, to plan. Now, he was ready to put the plans into action.

Javier left the main room of the basement and walked down the dark, narrow corridor to the staircase. On the next floor, he found a number of his newsies loafing about, playing cards, smoking, drinking, or talking. Through the smoke that hung near the ceiling, he located one of the group.

Dime sat in a corner with a few others, deeply involved in a poker game. He looked at the other players as he waited for them to take their turns, trying to appear passive, but failing. His smile was clear enough through his weak poker face that it was no wonder he had earned the name 'Dime', referring to the amount of money he earned each day. With his inability to lie, none of his improved headlines was believable.

Luckily for Dime, selling ability was not all Javier valued in his newsies. What Dime lacked in deceit, he compensated for in speed and strength. These latter qualities were the reasons Javier had chosen him.

"Hey, boys," Javier greeted the group as he clapped a hand on Dime's shoulder.

"Heya, Javier. You up for some poker?" a large newsie asked over his hand.

"No, I have some things to take care of, he answered. "Dime, come with me."

The boys barely reacted to this seemingly brusque comment; it happened often enough. Javier was serious about his leadership and never mixed business with pleasure, or even politeness. Dime put down his hand, rather disappointed to lose it, and followed his leader, who was already across the room.

"Yeah?"

"We're almost ready to go. You remember what you all have to do? Which ones you have to get?" Javier spoke in a low voice as he ensured Dime was ready.

"Yeah, I gots it all up here," he answered, tapping a finger to his forehead. Javier nodded with satisfaction and gave him a half-smirk.

"I knew you would. The others may need to be reminded, so round them up and tell them they can start any time now," Javier concluded. He was about to leave, but turned back to give Dime a final piece of advice. "Make sure you space them out. It won't work if it all happens in a few days. We have to keep them on their toes."

"Right," Dime nodded.

Javier left him now, confident that he would carry out the plan correctly. Dime stepped out of the lodging house, running through the details in his mind, ensuring that he had them all.

It took him two hours to locate all the members of the group. By the time he was walking back to the lodging house, Dime was cursing New York for being so huge. He was dead on his feet, too tired to begin his assignments tonight, besides, Charlie was doing his first. Things could get complicated if they ran into one another. This had to be done in complete secret.

A/N: I rewrote several parts of this chapter because I wasn't satisfied with it. Javier was right. I'm still not sure it's as good as some other chapters or as good as I want it to be, but I'll leave it alone for now. I also made some changes to other chapters, but nothing major. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, since I haven't started it and school is going to be getting busier, with midterms and SAT prep. I apologize in advance if it takes forever. I'd like opinions on this, especially this chapter, so feel free to review!