"When a guy with more money than Davy Crockett offers you 2K a day, what are you supposed to do, turn it down?"

"It depends what he's asking you to do," Luke replied as he wiped down the bar while balancing his phone against his ear.

I really need to invest in a set of earbuds, he thought as Jessica's voice filled the relative silence of the bar. It was still early, there were only a few customers, and Luke made a point of not serving alcohol before 11, so the all-day drinkers knew to pick another watering hole.

But Cap's had an excellent breakfast menu as well as an excellent lunch and dinner menu, and the 6 - 9 AM crowd was always strong, as was the 11 - 2 crowd, and the 4 - closing crowd. Luke did not usually work mornings, but Helen was taking her mother to a medical procedure so Luke chose to save himself the cost of paying someone time-and-a-half and took the shift himself. It was these sorts of problems that Luke liked to solve, not so much the other ones, though Luke freely admitted that those other problems would always need solving, and would need to be solved by someone like him.

Luke had come to hate the life of a superhero, though it was more accurate to say that Luke had hated Pepper Potts' voice whining at a frequency that could etch glass. Luke had no idea how Tony put up with it, except that the sex must be amazing; and Luke had to admit that she wasn't a strain on the eyes to look at.

But Luke much preferred to look at the woman whose voice, which at times was sharp enough to also etch glass, was speaking into his ear.

"I'm going by to sign the contract and pick up Trish. We're stopping by for lunch, and we need you to play act a bit."

Jesus fucking Christ, he thought as he performed a perfect one handed facepalm.

"What did you do now?"

"Who said I did anything?"

"No one. What did you do now?"

"Nothing. Not. one. fucking. thing. At least, not one fucking thing related to this."

"What do I have to do?"

"Trish will have a woman on her arm. The woman's name is Ann. Just act like you know her already. No big deal."

"Got it. What's my motivation?"

"I will fuck your brains out later."

The smile on his face was wide enough to draw attention, even in the sparsely populated bar whose front room interior was bathed in mid-morning sunlight.

"Sold."

The heat radiating from the asphalt roof was beginning to penetrate the soles of her boots, and as the sun continued to beat down on her, Jessica Jones was seriously reevaluating her rule of not wearing large hats since she thought they made her too noticeable when she was trying to hide inside a crowd.

She had not walked far after leaving Trish and Annelie before hailing a cab. The air conditioned interior was a short, welcome reprieve from the afternoon heat, even if it did smell like feet.

I could probably jump that, she thought as she lowered her camera lens and looked across the street at 18 Avenue C, home of Brock Industries, licensed to import and export resources, intermediate and final goods and services, but no specifics on what resources, goods, or services were being imported and exported. It was about one-hundred feet straight line distance, but the roof on which Jessica was standing was easily six stories taller that the one across the street.

let's see...distance equals the square of the velocity times the sine of two-theta divided by, oh fuck it...

"Brock Industries is a front, we believe, for a splinter group of Religio Criminis," Kyle's Chief of Clandestine Operations had told her right after she had signed her non-disclosure agreement and contract.

"Those assholes."

"Maybe those assholes. We have intel from our cousins in The Windy City that points to them, but we need proof. That's where you come in."

"Identify the assholes. Got it. What are my operational limits?"

"Don't kill anybody."

Jessica had expected a bit more, and it took her a second to realize that he was serious.

"That's it?"

"Nighthawk is a private contractor. We are technically outside the law. Alias Investigations, as of right now, is a subcontractor to a private contractor, so you're more outside the law than we are. If the law gets involved we will deny all knowledge of you, and there will be absolutely no evidence that says otherwise."

"Outside the law. Copy that. What else is fucking new?"

"Just be careful. Legalities aside, if we have to send a counter assault team to get you out of a jam, it's coming out of your pay."

What the fuck could these assholes be importing and exporting that Kyle Richmond would take an interest? Jess wondered as she stood on the hot rooftop and gazed across Avenue C, and as a small reflection of light from above her and to her right caught her eye.

Huh, she thought as she looked at a small silver box mounted on a rusted metal pole and pointed towards the building across the street, Kyle must really be interested in this fucking building.

Jess's shirt was soaked through with sweat by the time she walked back through the door that had been marked ROOF ACCESS AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Should be a lot cooler tonight, she thought.