Disclaimer: I already disclaimed the whole story but for fear of lawsuit
I'm doing it again...heh. I don't own Static Shock, though I wish I had his
powers.
Brief A/N: This is the first chapter to involve a new character/bang baby. I hope you guys like him.
# # #
Static Force Chapter 3: Come What May
The sweat poured from her body in the exhilarating shower of exhaustion as she continued her strenuous workout, pushing the limits of her body to the breaking point. For more than three hours she had focused on her workout regiment that included a variety of free weights, aerobics, calisthenics and kickboxing training exercises, and just now had she reached her second wind. This was when she was most alive; feeling the blood pumping through her veins in the unstoppable adrenaline rush of life. Only when in her alternate guise, jumping over rooftops and dodging the variety of attacks her lifestyle threw at her did she feel more animated. To her, this was living.
Finishing the final rep of bench presses that would kill most of the boys in her school should they be foolish enough to attempt to lift the overly weighted barbell, Shenice Vale calmly walked to the waiting water bottle and took a gratifying mouthful of the refreshing liquid. She allowed a moment for the water to cool the inside of her mouth before swallowing, feeling it run the length of her throat and sending a much needed chill down her spine. Setting the bottle down and picking up the slightly damp towel, Shenice began to dry her face and arms before beginning the last of her nightly exercises. She paused a moment, the towel just covering her mouth as she stared at her image in the mirror. One would assume, given the level of exercise she committed herself to every day that her body would be sharply defined with chiseled muscles and bulging veins. But to look at her, no one would realize the strength that existed within her nimble form. Dark, innocent eyes sheltered the truth that she was not entirely human, simply a specimen of genetic engineering crafted to be the perfect human subject.
As she worked herself to become a little stronger with each new day, her thin, lithe frame hid the inhuman strength she possessed. It was her greatest asset against many enemies twice her size to be underestimated, and countless unconscious thugs who broke the law had made that very mistake.
Turning from the mirror to pick up her jump rope, Shenice began her final series of exercises, the rope spinning invisibly fast as she jumped to keep pace. The constant whistling of the cord filled the converted basement turned specially designed workout room as she quickened her pace. It wasn't until she heard her mother's voice at the top of the stairs calling her name that she stopped, losing count and growling slightly that she'd have to restart.
"Shenice!" Her mother called again as the teenager placed the jump rope on the wooden bench and retrieved the towel to pat herself dry.
"Yes mom?" She said, walking to the foot of the stairs and seeing her mother cradling the phone, covering the mouthpiece with her hand.
"You have a phone call."
Eyes opening wide in slight surprise, Shenice walked hurriedly up the stairs to retrieve the phone from her mother. Having returned to Dakota once the corporate kidnappers trying to catch her for the purpose of cloning her perfect DNA were finally caught, she was able to finally be herself. But for reasons she pondered more than she cared to think about, the outgoing, extroverted Shenice was nowhere near as popular as the shy wallflower she had been long ago. She couldn't deny that being shunted aside hadn't hurt horribly, nor could she hide the fact that deep down she was desperately lonely. So when her mother told her she had a phone call, she forgot all manners and quickly snatched the phone from her hand.
"H...hello?" The teenager said, speaking perhaps a bit more eagerly than she intended. When no response on the other end came to her greeting she assumed some cruel person was only playing a vicious joke on her. But despite her fears of being the butt of that joke, she asked again. "Hello?"
"Shenice..." The voice the on the other end of the receiver cracked, as if the person were struggling to speak. "Shenice, you there? It's me, Ritchie."
For the second time tonight in as many minutes, her eyes grew wide in shock as she turned to look at her mother who was smiling at the knowledge her daughter had received a phone call from a boy. Indicating that she would take the call in her room, the energetic teenager quickly ran up the flight of stairs and closed her bedroom door before responding.
"So what's the deal Ritchie? I haven't heard from you guys all summer!" Shenice said, speaking angrily into the phone she paced the length of her room to work off the tension building within her.
"It's been kind of...hectic." He said, attempting to brush aside her anger to address the matter at hand.
"Really! Well that's just great. First you guys wanted me on your team, then you didn't, then you wanted me back again, but you haven't called me for patrol or anything. And now, out the blue you call me back. Look, I'm tired of feeling like the puck on an air hockey table." She said, realizing how stupid that sounded the moment the words escaped her lips.
"Shenice, can we save this for later, Virg and I are in trouble." Ritchie said, coughing slightly as his voice cracked a bit more.
Biting her lip as she hesitated between her desire to stay mad at the two heroes and her sense of duty to them, Shenice swallowed her anger as she spoke quietly into the phone. "Okay Gear, tell me what you need."
# # #
Vanmoor School of Science, headed by Alva Industries, was among the most prestigious and sought-after private institutions in the country. Students from every corner of the U.S. clamored to prove their worth and held their breaths in the hope of being one of the few selected to attend the prominent learning institution. At least that was what Nigel Saunders' parents had told him before uprooting him from his comfortable life in Gotham and transferring him to the on-campus dorms where he would be challenged by other up and coming geniuses.
Nigel was, without question, a great disappointed to those expectations. In his old school, Nigel made outstanding marks, not because he was brilliant, but because his teachers knew he had the potential and worked to bring it out of him. That was why his parents had transferred him to the Vanmoor School of Science in the first place, to challenge him to use his untapped intellect. Little did they understand that the challenge was the last thing he wanted.
His parents were so far beyond average that he himself felt smothered by the shadow of their greatness. His mother, though not yet world-renowned, was certainly well known and respected among her peers. As a foremost authority in the fields of Micro Biology and Chemical Engineering, only his father's accomplishments rivaled those of his mother's. Though not as well known as his mother, his father none-the-less was one of the few people anywhere who truly understood the workings of advanced Quantum Physics and more importantly, could find practical uses for it. It was in no small part that the influence of his parents was the biggest reason Nigel did not just despise science, but outright rejected it.
But despite passing with little more than mediocre grades at Vanmoor, his parents had refused to bring him home, insisting that he was a brilliant young man. Perhaps he was as smart as they believed, after all, with parents who were well on their way to winning a Nobel Prize, how could he not have inherited their intelligence? Simply because life, was at times, ironic that way.
Of course, it wasn't that Nigel wasn't smart; it was simply that his interests lie outside the realm of science. He was, what he often considered, not a dreamer but certainly a dreamer in training. Many times in class, his mind would wander to various self-constructed adventures to fend off his boredom. His homework and studies were often neglected in favor of reading one of many classic novels, Beowulf being among his favorites. It wasn't that he found school boring, life in general, particularly his life, was boring.
In truth it didn't matter whether he lived in Gotham or Dakota, he never seemed to fit in and could never make friends. His mind would wander to far away worlds and outlandish adventures as he spent much of his time daydreaming or reading rather than hanging out at the mall or some other teenage gathering. In truth, people didn't like dreamers, and because of that he preferred his solitude. But alone was a state many would not let him enjoy.
Often ridiculed and bullied by other students because he was both, so different and such an easy target, Nigel was a favorite object for those that wished to be strong by picking on the weak. So on the night of the second Big Bang, while making his way from the library, Nigel met up with one of the many neighborhood bullies who felt compelled to chase him some two miles before finally beating the absentminded dreamer unconscious and leaving him at the southern district docks of Dakota.
When he finally regained consciousness, Nigel could barely see the strange purple mist hanging in the air through his tears of pain and fear. Thinking it was only fog shaded by the nightly darkness, he slowly, painfully made his way back to his school dormitory, unaware that the pain that tore at him wasn't from the beating he received previously that night, but from the mutation of his own body.
The next morning, when he had seen what he had become, Nigel, scared of the nightmare that stared back at him from the mirror, ran from him school. That was nearly a week ago, and though he now found shelter in one of the many abandoned warehouses that peppered the harbor district of Dakota, his burdened tears of grief were his only comfort.
Life was ironic; he knew this by experience from what his life had held over the past week. For as long as Nigel could remember, he felt out of place, as if he were born on the wrong planet or in the wrong time. And more times than he remembered he wished he could escape into the world of his books, become part of the stories he so loved. Yet now, as he had become a monster from those his stories, he wanted only be normal again. That was what was so ironic.
"What am I going to do?" He asked to the empty darkness, unable to accept that even his voice had changed in accordance with new his body. Knowing that both the school was looking for him, as well as that fact that his parents would have been alerted of his disappearance by now and would be coming to Dakota, Nigel felt great waves of disgust at the world he now lived in. Punching a steel support beam in frustration and causing the column to buckle under the massive strain of his powerful fist, Nigel buried his face in one oversized hand and dropped to his knees as the bitter tears found their way from his tormented soul.
# # #
Ebon marched the length of the old subway tunnel that had at one time been the residence of the Meta-breed. Now, with the collection of new members standing about the chamber, it had reclaimed its former status as headquarters. With the exception of Shiv, all other members were new to the Breed, and he was sure he did well in his recruitment.
Though, that wasn't to say there weren't confrontations between them. Shiv took great enjoyment in annoying Hotstreak to the point that the pyromaniac threatened to loose just enough fire on the energy manipulating blade master to leave him burned and screaming. Of course it was a similar threat the angry young man had used on every member of the Breed since joining, but that was just his way of "warming up" to people, as it were.
There were of course others to worry about. The powerfully built Chainlink wasn't one to listen to rules or follow orders without severe protest. Though after a few educational measures conducted by Ebon, he was slowly falling in line. Tamara Lawrence, or Sweetness as she called herself now, was another matter all together. She had trouble focusing on working as part of a team and continued pining over her ex-boyfriend/part-time delinquent Marcus Reed. She couldn't make up her mind between wanting to find him in order to rekindle their relationship or smash him to pudding. Truthfully she was a bit out of hand over her ex-love, though with strength that was perhaps greater than Onyx, she was an asset if for nothing else than pure brute force, and thus her often emotionally-centric preoccupations were easily overlooked.
Of course the fights didn't matter; none of it did really. Hotstreak, Onyx, Sweetness, Chainlink...hell, even Shiv were nothing more than hired muscle. To Ebon, the real prize was Puff. She not only had powers she had yet to fully master, but had a brain for tactics and intelligence for analyzing combat scenarios as well. In fact, it was her idea to ambush Static and Gear at the mall. The rest of the Breed was nothing more than grunts, powerful yes, but grunts nonetheless, which was why he named her as his second. Though he highly distrusted her and the thought of her betraying him was always at the forefront of his mind, he knew she didn't have the power to usurp him, and that was how he would keep her in line. Because when matched against each other, not one of the Breed, with the exception of Onyx, would pick Puff over him.
Ebon apprised each member of his team, scrutinizing their strengths while weighing their weaknesses. Of all the potential Bang Babies, these were, in his opinion, the best at what they did. All they'd need was to focus as a team and they'd own this city. But teamwork was a hurdle that was proving difficult to overcome.
"Damn it ears, your standing in my spot!" Hotstreak screamed, glowering at the tall, gray-skinned monster in the white tank top before him.
"Shut up Hotstreak, you know my ears are sensitive and your constant squawking is only giving me a head ache." Sweetness growled, raising one massive fist threateningly at the pyrokinetic arsonist.
"Hey, knock it off you two. This isn't preschool no matter how immature you act. So both of you be quiet." Puff said, floating between the two of them in an attempt to separate the potential fight.
"Ebon, is this what you have to show me," a new voice entered the chamber as the collected villains turned their attention to the monitor and the elder man's image that covered the screen. "A group of degenerate, hot- tempered thugs whose only usefulness is the power they possess? Thus far I'm not at all impressed."
"Don't think of it as hot-tempered Mr. Alva, think of it as spirited." Ebon replied to the elderly businessman.
"Remember that I'm funding this little operation of yours Ebon. I'm not paying for your wisecracks. Now, is your team assembled?"
"Don't worry Alva, as long as your money's still good, we'll dance to your little tune." Ebon said, a slight smirk flashing across his face before returning to business. "But I still have one person I want to bring in. I've been scouting 'em out for a while and I think they'd fit in nicely. So one more member and we're ready."
"Very well. And Ebon, it's best not to disappoint me." Alva said before the monitor went dead.
The assembled group began clamoring for details of what they had just heard, unaware that the hidden, shadowy figure deep within the rafters, having witnessed the full conversation, had moved from the building and out into the night air, leaving behind a solitary feather as the only sign that she was ever there.
# # #
Edwin Alva reclined his old, tired frame in the uncomfortable yet stylish office chair and closed his eyes as he allowed a brief smile to tug at the corner of his lips. Business, as he knew, was nothing more than a game of chess. Some pieces were more valuable than others, but in the end, strategic sacrifices needed to be made for the conquest of the game. His favorite piece was the pawn, however, as it served no purpose other than to protect those of greater importance, and as that was its only benefit, sacrificing it never bothered him. Yet when one found a group of pawns he could manipulate with greed and power, it made the illusion all the more grand, and victory all the greater.
"We must tread lightly as we proceed." Alva said, rising from his chair and turning to gaze at the skyline of Dakota from his lavishly decorated office. "Soon my beautiful city, I'll have you in my hand, and you will praise me as your savior. It's only a matter of time."
-To be continued
# # #
A/N: Yet another chapter comes to a close. I am sorry not much action happened here but I'm working on setting the scene and getting all the players together does take some time, but I promise you, there will be action forthcoming in the next chapter...and you'll get to see more of Nigel as well. Hee Hee Hee. I also intend to describe what he looks like better, but wanted the illusion of mystery surrounding him. Yeah, I'm evil that way. As always, reviews are very welcomed. Thanks to everyone who reads my stories and hope you guys liked this. I must say, this is becoming a favorite story of mine to write.
Brief A/N: This is the first chapter to involve a new character/bang baby. I hope you guys like him.
# # #
Static Force Chapter 3: Come What May
The sweat poured from her body in the exhilarating shower of exhaustion as she continued her strenuous workout, pushing the limits of her body to the breaking point. For more than three hours she had focused on her workout regiment that included a variety of free weights, aerobics, calisthenics and kickboxing training exercises, and just now had she reached her second wind. This was when she was most alive; feeling the blood pumping through her veins in the unstoppable adrenaline rush of life. Only when in her alternate guise, jumping over rooftops and dodging the variety of attacks her lifestyle threw at her did she feel more animated. To her, this was living.
Finishing the final rep of bench presses that would kill most of the boys in her school should they be foolish enough to attempt to lift the overly weighted barbell, Shenice Vale calmly walked to the waiting water bottle and took a gratifying mouthful of the refreshing liquid. She allowed a moment for the water to cool the inside of her mouth before swallowing, feeling it run the length of her throat and sending a much needed chill down her spine. Setting the bottle down and picking up the slightly damp towel, Shenice began to dry her face and arms before beginning the last of her nightly exercises. She paused a moment, the towel just covering her mouth as she stared at her image in the mirror. One would assume, given the level of exercise she committed herself to every day that her body would be sharply defined with chiseled muscles and bulging veins. But to look at her, no one would realize the strength that existed within her nimble form. Dark, innocent eyes sheltered the truth that she was not entirely human, simply a specimen of genetic engineering crafted to be the perfect human subject.
As she worked herself to become a little stronger with each new day, her thin, lithe frame hid the inhuman strength she possessed. It was her greatest asset against many enemies twice her size to be underestimated, and countless unconscious thugs who broke the law had made that very mistake.
Turning from the mirror to pick up her jump rope, Shenice began her final series of exercises, the rope spinning invisibly fast as she jumped to keep pace. The constant whistling of the cord filled the converted basement turned specially designed workout room as she quickened her pace. It wasn't until she heard her mother's voice at the top of the stairs calling her name that she stopped, losing count and growling slightly that she'd have to restart.
"Shenice!" Her mother called again as the teenager placed the jump rope on the wooden bench and retrieved the towel to pat herself dry.
"Yes mom?" She said, walking to the foot of the stairs and seeing her mother cradling the phone, covering the mouthpiece with her hand.
"You have a phone call."
Eyes opening wide in slight surprise, Shenice walked hurriedly up the stairs to retrieve the phone from her mother. Having returned to Dakota once the corporate kidnappers trying to catch her for the purpose of cloning her perfect DNA were finally caught, she was able to finally be herself. But for reasons she pondered more than she cared to think about, the outgoing, extroverted Shenice was nowhere near as popular as the shy wallflower she had been long ago. She couldn't deny that being shunted aside hadn't hurt horribly, nor could she hide the fact that deep down she was desperately lonely. So when her mother told her she had a phone call, she forgot all manners and quickly snatched the phone from her hand.
"H...hello?" The teenager said, speaking perhaps a bit more eagerly than she intended. When no response on the other end came to her greeting she assumed some cruel person was only playing a vicious joke on her. But despite her fears of being the butt of that joke, she asked again. "Hello?"
"Shenice..." The voice the on the other end of the receiver cracked, as if the person were struggling to speak. "Shenice, you there? It's me, Ritchie."
For the second time tonight in as many minutes, her eyes grew wide in shock as she turned to look at her mother who was smiling at the knowledge her daughter had received a phone call from a boy. Indicating that she would take the call in her room, the energetic teenager quickly ran up the flight of stairs and closed her bedroom door before responding.
"So what's the deal Ritchie? I haven't heard from you guys all summer!" Shenice said, speaking angrily into the phone she paced the length of her room to work off the tension building within her.
"It's been kind of...hectic." He said, attempting to brush aside her anger to address the matter at hand.
"Really! Well that's just great. First you guys wanted me on your team, then you didn't, then you wanted me back again, but you haven't called me for patrol or anything. And now, out the blue you call me back. Look, I'm tired of feeling like the puck on an air hockey table." She said, realizing how stupid that sounded the moment the words escaped her lips.
"Shenice, can we save this for later, Virg and I are in trouble." Ritchie said, coughing slightly as his voice cracked a bit more.
Biting her lip as she hesitated between her desire to stay mad at the two heroes and her sense of duty to them, Shenice swallowed her anger as she spoke quietly into the phone. "Okay Gear, tell me what you need."
# # #
Vanmoor School of Science, headed by Alva Industries, was among the most prestigious and sought-after private institutions in the country. Students from every corner of the U.S. clamored to prove their worth and held their breaths in the hope of being one of the few selected to attend the prominent learning institution. At least that was what Nigel Saunders' parents had told him before uprooting him from his comfortable life in Gotham and transferring him to the on-campus dorms where he would be challenged by other up and coming geniuses.
Nigel was, without question, a great disappointed to those expectations. In his old school, Nigel made outstanding marks, not because he was brilliant, but because his teachers knew he had the potential and worked to bring it out of him. That was why his parents had transferred him to the Vanmoor School of Science in the first place, to challenge him to use his untapped intellect. Little did they understand that the challenge was the last thing he wanted.
His parents were so far beyond average that he himself felt smothered by the shadow of their greatness. His mother, though not yet world-renowned, was certainly well known and respected among her peers. As a foremost authority in the fields of Micro Biology and Chemical Engineering, only his father's accomplishments rivaled those of his mother's. Though not as well known as his mother, his father none-the-less was one of the few people anywhere who truly understood the workings of advanced Quantum Physics and more importantly, could find practical uses for it. It was in no small part that the influence of his parents was the biggest reason Nigel did not just despise science, but outright rejected it.
But despite passing with little more than mediocre grades at Vanmoor, his parents had refused to bring him home, insisting that he was a brilliant young man. Perhaps he was as smart as they believed, after all, with parents who were well on their way to winning a Nobel Prize, how could he not have inherited their intelligence? Simply because life, was at times, ironic that way.
Of course, it wasn't that Nigel wasn't smart; it was simply that his interests lie outside the realm of science. He was, what he often considered, not a dreamer but certainly a dreamer in training. Many times in class, his mind would wander to various self-constructed adventures to fend off his boredom. His homework and studies were often neglected in favor of reading one of many classic novels, Beowulf being among his favorites. It wasn't that he found school boring, life in general, particularly his life, was boring.
In truth it didn't matter whether he lived in Gotham or Dakota, he never seemed to fit in and could never make friends. His mind would wander to far away worlds and outlandish adventures as he spent much of his time daydreaming or reading rather than hanging out at the mall or some other teenage gathering. In truth, people didn't like dreamers, and because of that he preferred his solitude. But alone was a state many would not let him enjoy.
Often ridiculed and bullied by other students because he was both, so different and such an easy target, Nigel was a favorite object for those that wished to be strong by picking on the weak. So on the night of the second Big Bang, while making his way from the library, Nigel met up with one of the many neighborhood bullies who felt compelled to chase him some two miles before finally beating the absentminded dreamer unconscious and leaving him at the southern district docks of Dakota.
When he finally regained consciousness, Nigel could barely see the strange purple mist hanging in the air through his tears of pain and fear. Thinking it was only fog shaded by the nightly darkness, he slowly, painfully made his way back to his school dormitory, unaware that the pain that tore at him wasn't from the beating he received previously that night, but from the mutation of his own body.
The next morning, when he had seen what he had become, Nigel, scared of the nightmare that stared back at him from the mirror, ran from him school. That was nearly a week ago, and though he now found shelter in one of the many abandoned warehouses that peppered the harbor district of Dakota, his burdened tears of grief were his only comfort.
Life was ironic; he knew this by experience from what his life had held over the past week. For as long as Nigel could remember, he felt out of place, as if he were born on the wrong planet or in the wrong time. And more times than he remembered he wished he could escape into the world of his books, become part of the stories he so loved. Yet now, as he had become a monster from those his stories, he wanted only be normal again. That was what was so ironic.
"What am I going to do?" He asked to the empty darkness, unable to accept that even his voice had changed in accordance with new his body. Knowing that both the school was looking for him, as well as that fact that his parents would have been alerted of his disappearance by now and would be coming to Dakota, Nigel felt great waves of disgust at the world he now lived in. Punching a steel support beam in frustration and causing the column to buckle under the massive strain of his powerful fist, Nigel buried his face in one oversized hand and dropped to his knees as the bitter tears found their way from his tormented soul.
# # #
Ebon marched the length of the old subway tunnel that had at one time been the residence of the Meta-breed. Now, with the collection of new members standing about the chamber, it had reclaimed its former status as headquarters. With the exception of Shiv, all other members were new to the Breed, and he was sure he did well in his recruitment.
Though, that wasn't to say there weren't confrontations between them. Shiv took great enjoyment in annoying Hotstreak to the point that the pyromaniac threatened to loose just enough fire on the energy manipulating blade master to leave him burned and screaming. Of course it was a similar threat the angry young man had used on every member of the Breed since joining, but that was just his way of "warming up" to people, as it were.
There were of course others to worry about. The powerfully built Chainlink wasn't one to listen to rules or follow orders without severe protest. Though after a few educational measures conducted by Ebon, he was slowly falling in line. Tamara Lawrence, or Sweetness as she called herself now, was another matter all together. She had trouble focusing on working as part of a team and continued pining over her ex-boyfriend/part-time delinquent Marcus Reed. She couldn't make up her mind between wanting to find him in order to rekindle their relationship or smash him to pudding. Truthfully she was a bit out of hand over her ex-love, though with strength that was perhaps greater than Onyx, she was an asset if for nothing else than pure brute force, and thus her often emotionally-centric preoccupations were easily overlooked.
Of course the fights didn't matter; none of it did really. Hotstreak, Onyx, Sweetness, Chainlink...hell, even Shiv were nothing more than hired muscle. To Ebon, the real prize was Puff. She not only had powers she had yet to fully master, but had a brain for tactics and intelligence for analyzing combat scenarios as well. In fact, it was her idea to ambush Static and Gear at the mall. The rest of the Breed was nothing more than grunts, powerful yes, but grunts nonetheless, which was why he named her as his second. Though he highly distrusted her and the thought of her betraying him was always at the forefront of his mind, he knew she didn't have the power to usurp him, and that was how he would keep her in line. Because when matched against each other, not one of the Breed, with the exception of Onyx, would pick Puff over him.
Ebon apprised each member of his team, scrutinizing their strengths while weighing their weaknesses. Of all the potential Bang Babies, these were, in his opinion, the best at what they did. All they'd need was to focus as a team and they'd own this city. But teamwork was a hurdle that was proving difficult to overcome.
"Damn it ears, your standing in my spot!" Hotstreak screamed, glowering at the tall, gray-skinned monster in the white tank top before him.
"Shut up Hotstreak, you know my ears are sensitive and your constant squawking is only giving me a head ache." Sweetness growled, raising one massive fist threateningly at the pyrokinetic arsonist.
"Hey, knock it off you two. This isn't preschool no matter how immature you act. So both of you be quiet." Puff said, floating between the two of them in an attempt to separate the potential fight.
"Ebon, is this what you have to show me," a new voice entered the chamber as the collected villains turned their attention to the monitor and the elder man's image that covered the screen. "A group of degenerate, hot- tempered thugs whose only usefulness is the power they possess? Thus far I'm not at all impressed."
"Don't think of it as hot-tempered Mr. Alva, think of it as spirited." Ebon replied to the elderly businessman.
"Remember that I'm funding this little operation of yours Ebon. I'm not paying for your wisecracks. Now, is your team assembled?"
"Don't worry Alva, as long as your money's still good, we'll dance to your little tune." Ebon said, a slight smirk flashing across his face before returning to business. "But I still have one person I want to bring in. I've been scouting 'em out for a while and I think they'd fit in nicely. So one more member and we're ready."
"Very well. And Ebon, it's best not to disappoint me." Alva said before the monitor went dead.
The assembled group began clamoring for details of what they had just heard, unaware that the hidden, shadowy figure deep within the rafters, having witnessed the full conversation, had moved from the building and out into the night air, leaving behind a solitary feather as the only sign that she was ever there.
# # #
Edwin Alva reclined his old, tired frame in the uncomfortable yet stylish office chair and closed his eyes as he allowed a brief smile to tug at the corner of his lips. Business, as he knew, was nothing more than a game of chess. Some pieces were more valuable than others, but in the end, strategic sacrifices needed to be made for the conquest of the game. His favorite piece was the pawn, however, as it served no purpose other than to protect those of greater importance, and as that was its only benefit, sacrificing it never bothered him. Yet when one found a group of pawns he could manipulate with greed and power, it made the illusion all the more grand, and victory all the greater.
"We must tread lightly as we proceed." Alva said, rising from his chair and turning to gaze at the skyline of Dakota from his lavishly decorated office. "Soon my beautiful city, I'll have you in my hand, and you will praise me as your savior. It's only a matter of time."
-To be continued
# # #
A/N: Yet another chapter comes to a close. I am sorry not much action happened here but I'm working on setting the scene and getting all the players together does take some time, but I promise you, there will be action forthcoming in the next chapter...and you'll get to see more of Nigel as well. Hee Hee Hee. I also intend to describe what he looks like better, but wanted the illusion of mystery surrounding him. Yeah, I'm evil that way. As always, reviews are very welcomed. Thanks to everyone who reads my stories and hope you guys liked this. I must say, this is becoming a favorite story of mine to write.