Harlem, Five Years Earlier...
An elderly African American woman stares out her apartment window at nothing in particular. The TV is on but she's not watching it. "Wendel Rand and his family have been missing for the past five years...," the anchorwoman announces on the television. Soon, her grandson enters the living room with a gym bag. This is 18 year old Carl Lucas who will later be known as Luke Cage. He is tall, handsome, and muscular with short hair. He kisses his grandmother on the cheek, "Gonna go play some ball, granny. I'll be home late."
"Okay, baby."
"Did you remember to take your medicine?"
"I sure did."
"Okay, granny. I love you."
"Love you back."
As Carl turns to leave, he hits his knee against the corner of the short hallway leading to the door, "Aw, shit." His grandmother looks up, "Is that you cussing over there, boy?"
"No, Granny. I said... Christmas."
"That's what I thought. Don't make me whup your ass!"
Lucas leaves the apartment building and goes out into the street. The neighborhood is poor and rundown, a view of the country rarely seen but all too real. He continues to the subway station where he takes a train to another part of New York as the sun goes down. He gets out in a much nicer area and makes his way to a street corner where he waits while nighttime comes.
Soon, another teenager approaches. This is Willis Stryker who is Lucas' age and roughly his build. The two of them clasp hands.
"What's up, Carl."
"Willis."
"You ready for this?"
"As ready as I'm gonna be."
"Alright, man. Welcome to the Rivals," Willis shows a dagger tattoo on the back of his right hand, between the thumb and forefinger.
"I'm not in your gang, man," Lucas becomes agitated, "This is only gonna happen a few times. I'm no thug!"
"Relax. I got this. Look man, we used to go to school together. Remember that?"
"I remember doing some pretty stupid things. I just grew up. You got worse ever since you met Sonny, the Hammer."
"Whatever, man. Act like your shit don't stink."
"Just tell me how this is gonna go down."
"Alright, the people in these apartments got money but not so much they're gonna afford security systems. We pick the lock and we're in. Easy. We stay in the living room. We get computers, TV's, phones, whatever we can carry and we get out."
"And if we see anybody?
Willis pulls a switchblade from his jacket pocket, "We show `im this."
"You're as crazy as you are stupid! I'm not killing nobody. Put that thing away!"
"Who said we were kill'n anybody? It's just to scare `im off. It ain't like I got a gun. And trust me, if I wanted, I could've brought one."
"At least you got some sense."
"Nobody's gonna see us anyway. They never do."
"You're leaving that thing behind."
"You always act like you're above it all. Why you doing this anyway?"
"I just need the money for my granny. She's sick and needs medicine. I'm not some thug and I'm sure as hell not in your gang."
"Yeah, I know. We wouldn't take your punkass anyway."
"So... we doing this thing or not?"
"Yeah. Come on."
They start down the street. "Just be sure we're not using that knife on nobody, Willis" Lucas warns him again. Willis groans, "Nobody's gonna see us, man." They walk into an apartment complex and to the apartment closest to the door. Lucas stands watch while Willis picks the lock. A few moments later and they're in. They quietly slip into the apartment, Willis pointing out a laptop on the table in the kitchen area. Lucas quickly slips the laptop in his bag while Willis makes his way over to the surround sound system nearby.
Suddenly, the lights turn on. Both teens freeze as a large man enters the living room with a baseball bat. "I see you punks!," he shouts, "This is the third time my place has been robbed this year! It's not happening again!" Lucas tries to make a run for the door but the man swings his bat around, blocking off the exit, "Oh, not so fast, son!". Willis pulls the switchblade from his pocket and waves it around menacingly. The man glares at Willis and raises the bat, "Bring it on! I ain't afraid of you! You think you're man enough, do it!" Lucas drops his bag and shouts, "Willis, let's get out of here!"
Willis ignores Lucas and charges at the man. Before he can plunge the knife into his gut, however, Lucas tackles him to the floor. The man drops his bat and quickly snatches his cellphone from the coffee table. He jumps over Willis and Lucas who continue to struggle on the floor. He runs out of his apartment, dialing 911 in the process, "Hello, I'd like to report a break in!" he shouts into the reciever. Inside the apartment, Willis tries to force the knife into Lucas who now struggles to break free. Lucas jabs Willis in the forehead and rolls to the side; the two tumble along the floor and once Willis is on his back, he screams in agony. Lucas leaps to his feet, astonished and horrified. Willis writhes below him, the blade now sticking out of his thigh. Lucas makes a break for it, leaving a wounded Willis behind. He races down the stairs and gets to the lobby where he bolts out of the main entrance.
Minutes later, Willis crawls into the bathroom, blood trailing behind him as he pulls himself up on the toilet, snatching a towel from the rack to place on his leg wound. Two officers make their way inside the apartment and eventually make their way to the bathroom. Willis looks up at them with pleading eyes, "I'll tell you everything you need to know."
Lucas pokes his head out of an alley, searching for any police officers. With the coast clear, he sprints down the sidewalk. As luck would have it, the moment he turns the corner, a squad car cuts him off as it mounts the curb. Lucas retreats in the opposite direction, only to see a beat cop racing toward him. He darts out in the middle of the street, tires screetching as cars come to a stop. His momentum carries him over the hood of one car and by the time he gets back up, the police officers have already descended upon him; as they read him his rights, they handcuff his hands behind his back. He doesn't resist.