Rae: In which much butt is kicked thanks to Jazz. (cackles) My beta said it reminded her of Jazz taking down Springer in AHM; I'm inclined to agree seeing as that was where I got the inspiration from ;)

Thanks for the go-over, love, on both of these chapters! And all before you had to go out; aren't you just the best? (huggles happily) Enjoy everyone! x

Jazz peered down the barrel of his rifle, squinting and frowning slightly before pushing the greased cloth gently back through it. He twisted it and brought it out again, nodding in satisfaction before placing it back down on his coffee table. He was about to pick up the screwdriver to disassemble and clean out the gas tube when his burn phone started dancing across the table on vibrate, belting out one of the default ringtones it came with. It was the best one he could find in the options; he wasn't going to bother downloading a ringtone onto a phone he was just going to throw away.

"Yeh've reached Foxtrot," he greeted, putting speakerphone on and placing it onto the table. He snatched up what he'd been reaching for before.

'Tonight,' was the reply. 'You're up tonight.'

"Nice t'hear from yeh too Frenzy," commented Jazz dryly, twisting the screwdriver to detach the gas tube for cleaning. "Alright, what's th'job 'n when?"

'23:00. We've got a shipment due in, but the only dock we can port in is too heavily guarded to collect it. We need you to take out the security detail.' Frenzy ignored the sarcasm. 'You get us in and out without alerting anyone and we'll talk about your initiation.'

"Yer boss wants me 'n he knows it." Jazz blew lightly on the gas tube and picked up the bristle brush. "Y'know, Foxtrot likes t'be noticed. It'll b' really temptin' t'set off th'alarms right b'fore we leave. I want th'police t'know who they're dealin' with, who's back in town after a loooong vacation."

Frenzy snorted. 'And what makes you think the police will know it was you?'

"Oh, they'll know." The dreadlocked man grinned even though the twin couldn't see it. "Where?"

A pause. 'West Side Industrial, dock twelve. Don't be late, Foxtrot.'

"As if. I'm lookin' forward t' this." He hung up before Frenzy could say anything more and sank back, exhaling a lungful of air slowly. So soon? He hadn't expected the test for another week at least. He glanced at the bullets lined neatly up next to a magazine clip and chuckled. It was a damn good thing Wade and Percy knew what they were doing so damn well. Any further delay wouldn't have made the needle-rounds possible.

-x-

Jasper rang Adam's doorbell and checked his watch. Less than two hours. He brightened when he heard the latches being undone and a key being turned in a lock a few seconds later, and then the startled face of his partner peered through the crack. The sturdy door opened wider and Adam gestured the saboteur in.

"Jazz, what are you doing here?"

"Passin' these on." Jasper placed a small paper bag on the countertop in the kitchen. "Tonight at eleven o'clock, West Side Industrial, dock twelve. I've been told t'take out th'security 'n if I don' get t'th'guards afterwards I'm leavin' a batch with yeh. I'll send yeh a buzz or sommat when 'm done, so yeh'll know whether t'go or not."

"Are you sure?" Adam looked surprised, and then worried. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," shrugged the dreadlocked man. "I jus' know I can count on yeh if I can't get t' 'em."

"Of course." Adam slipped around the side of the counter to stand in front of his partner, clasping his shoulders gently. "You've got just over an hour and a half, so you'd better get going, but Jazz..." He trailed fingertips down one arm and then rested them on one cheek, searching unseeing gold eyes. "Please be careful."

"Always, Prowler." Jazz leaned up and kissed the brunette in front of him, chaste, tentative, but solid, and then left swiftly with one last wave. He shut the door behind him, listened to the 'ka-thunks' as Adam slid the bolts back into place and dashed down the stairs to the car park. He hopped into his Porsche, making sure he'd stripped the plates and put the falsies on first, and then headed over to the dock. He had a post to man and a murder spree to go on.

-x-

10:57.

Rumble glared at his watch and looked around him for what must've been the hundred-and-fiftieth time. He saw Frenzy helping Samuel unload the boxes they were using as the ruse in case anyone was watching, Thane and Spencer were scouting around the ship in dock worker uniforms pretending inventory check, Warren was flitting around with supplies and Rumble himself was on look-out. Foxtrot, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Rumble briefly wondered if Foxtrot had backed out at the last minute, got cold feet, and then he reminded himself that this was the same gang-banger who went on a slaughtering rampage in LA. For years. As a kid. In nothing more than the name of fun. He wasn't afraid of anything.

He glanced back down at his wrist. 10:58. Foxtrot would be late if he didn't hurry that damn sexy ass of his up. A slight pang hit Rumble as he remembered what the dreadlocked man had said to him last time they met. He knew he had been pushing his luck, but he'd thought that maybe, just maybe, Foxtrot would agree.

As if.

Foxtrot was right, he should have known better. The gang-banger was paranoid, violent and extremely cautious; he wouldn't've known whether Rumble would try to kill him afterwards or if he really was interested in just sex. There was no way to tell and no way Foxtrot would take that chance. Rumble made a face at the realization he could have thought things through just a little more than simply attempting to satisfy his libido. He was lucky a sharp reprimand was all he got instead of a throwing knife to the neck or something.

10:59.

Thane was looking annoyed at something, and for once it didn't seem to be Spencer who was stood next to him complaining loudly about newbies. Rumble guessed it was the apparently absent Foxtrot's fault. Warren looked nothing short of nervous, but then he seemed to be on every task he and his trine were set. Frenzy and Samuel ignored everyone else, concentrating on their cover. Thane's ruby eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, and even Spencer wound down the bitching as Rumble's watch beeped 11:00 quietly at him.

It was then that a tiny 'whoosh' and small tinkle of glass sounded from nearby, and everyone started and looked around for the source. Thane spotted it first; the controller in the tower sitting next to their dock which regulated importation, exportation and searches was slumped over the control panel. Another couple of swift quiet swooshes and the patrol who were manning the dock with their supposed fellows (being Thane and Spencer, both with hair either dyed or under a wig; Jazz wasn't sure which) were downed. Three gate guards fell after that, then a scouting unit, four beat cops and an inventory inspector who was unlucky enough to be just entering dock twelve.

"What on earth..." Spencer stared at the felled security in astonishment and then carefully moved up to a body. He prodded it gingerly with a foot and leapt back, expecting a hoax, but nothing happened. He poked it again, and then kicked it. Nada. He raised an eyebrow and knelt down to feel the pulse at the neck. Mahogany eyes widened and he turned around with an exclamation of, "He's dead!"

"'Course he is yeh idiot." A voice behind them had everyone turning around to see Foxtrot sauntering in with an annoyed expression, hoisting a sniper rifle over one shoulder and a small duffel bag up the other. "I ain't that bad o' a shot. Gimme some credit yeh half-wit."

"What are these?" asked Frenzy, looking up from examining another body and lifting a dart between his fingertips.

"Mah own ammo," said Jazz, walking over and plucking it out of Frenzy's hand. "Poison dart-bullets; instantly fatal, self-made 'n untraceable. Makes murder a lot easier. It ain't a common type o' poison either, nearly impossible t'pick up in tox-screens unless y'know what t'look fer." He smirked at Samuel, who gazed unwaveringly back. "Yeh thought I wasn't comin', right? Wrong." He moved towards Rumble with that same self-satisfied grin then, closer and closer until there wasn't even room for a pinkie finger to get between the two of them. He placed a knuckle gently under Rumble's chin, golden eyes catching the mahogany ones, and his smirk widened. "Wouldn't miss it fer th'world," he whispered, accentuating each word with slightly exaggerated movements of his lips. Rumble felt himself flush, heating up from Foxtrot's proximity and the way those lips moved when speaking.

Jasper let out a giggle at that point, tinged a little with a giddy insanity that didn't make him sound at all stable, and pushed Rumble away from him hard enough it drove the younger man back several feet. He turned and sprinted off to the control tower and loped up the steps three at a time until he reached the booth. He pushed the body off the console and searched it, nicking off with the radio he found and relieving him of a keycard. He twirled the card around his fingers a couple times to show off and swiped it into the reader to open the gates unalarmed, only to growl as the console asked for a verification password. He backed out of the swipe register and cracked his knuckles. Hacking time.

He pulled one of the panels off the workstation, revealing the electronics and circuitry behind it, and ran his fingers along one of the boards until he found the port he was looking for with a satisfied noise. Jazz pulled out a small device from the duffel bag and a cable, attaching one end to a tiny socket in the PDA look-alike and the other into the port on the circuitry panel. A few taps on the device and a minute later granted him access to the system, where he set himself up an account as an administrator and overrode the lock controls and commands. He kept the PDA attached to the system as he swiped the keycard through the scanner again. The console didn't bother asking him for a password this time, and he opened the gates and shut down the security cameras for dock 12 without any more problems. Really, Jazz thought in slight contempt, if they were going to make a dock security system at least make sure it's actually secure. The entire hack took him just under five minutes, so either he was just that slagging good or the system was that slagging bad.

He popped up from his crouched position and gave Morgan's crew a thumbs-up to signal it was okay. Thane nodded almost imperceptibly and barked something to the others, and Frenzy started waving to someone Jazz couldn't see. A minute later revealed a small truck with no license plates backing into the loading zone through the gate and Naomi was driving it. He watched as they began the unloading off the ship and loading into the truck with a swiftness and efficiency that showed Jazz they had been at this game a long time.

It took less than 15 minutes for the shipment to be loaded up and the truck to speed off to wherever it needed to. Impressive work. Jazz was just about to back himself out of the system, delete the account and wipe any trace of himself when the radio crackled to life and a voice spoke over in a concerned tone.

'David? David man, you there?'

Thank God Jazz had retained enough of his paranoid self to really scout out the area earlier and familiarize himself with both the environment and the people. He knew what David sounded like and where the accent was from, and thus a talent he was quite proud of came into play very handily. "David here," came the broad Welsh back.

'Dude, what's going on? The gate's registering as open. Why's the gate open?'

"James forgot somethin', but rather 'n park an' walk again he just drove straight here. Let him in through the gates." Jazz sighed like he was tired and a bit antsy from being on duty for so long. "Nothin' for you to get your panties in a bunch about. If there was a problem I'd've radioed you about it."

'...Alright, but tell Jim not to do that again.'

"Can do, David out." Jazz cut the speaking button and coughed a few times; as handy as vocal imitations were they did put strain on his own voice. He shook his head and commanded the gates closed once more, erased the last few minutes of camera footage and turned them back on, then set about planting a small harmless virus into the system before backing out and cleansing any signs he'd ever had access. It took him all of seven minutes to do it. Hacking something was actually easier than getting out of a system without leaving a trace, but he was fast by any hacker's standards.

The PDA device disconnected easily, and he stuffed it into his duffel bag before setting to work disassembling his rifle. It slid into the bag as well, fitting perfectly, and he bounded down the steps back to the others who were waiting rather impatiently.

"What the fuck were you doing up there, napping?" sniped Spencer, assuming a very 'drama queen' position. Jazz just stared coolly back and canted his head, dreadlocks spilling off to one side.

"It takes time t' back out o' a hacked system without leavin' somethin' traceable b'hind. Every competant criminal knows that," shot the saboteur back sharply. "B'sides, yeh should b' thankin' meh fer takin' the heat fer ya."

"What do you mean?" asked Thane curiously, glancing at Samuel as he too requested clarification.

"I planted a small virus in their system," Jazz said idly. "Claimin' that Foxtrot's back. Hey Detroit PD, guess who's over from LA and wantin' t' play?" He picked up one of the darts for emphasis and grinned. "Foxtrot may've been flashy, but even they know I know when t' do discretion."

"And what if they think it's a hoax?" demanded Spencer, not to be outdone.

"They won't." Jazz glanced back at the booth with a decidedly wicked smirk. "Trust meh. They know m'callin' card."

"Alright, let's get out of here." Thane interrupted whatever Spencer what about to bitch at next, forcefully and in obvious annoyance. "We've lingered too long as it is. Move it."

-x-

Jazz didn't move as Spencer snapped a pair of cuffs on his wrists, hands behind his back, and refused to flinch even as the metal bit into his skin from being pulled too tight. A flash of what happened last time he was in handcuffs made him smile briefly; now that had been an arrest and a half. Spencer made a disappointed noise that Foxtrot didn't react, and shoved at the lieutenant roughly to start walking. Thane marched silently next to them both, and Samuel flanked the other side. An odd little procession to be sure, but it amused Jazz.

"So th'boss man wants t' see meh fer real, huh?"

"You should be honored to meet him face to face," snapped Spencer, twisting his grip on the cuffs slightly.

"Oh, y'mean like yeh are?" He barked a harsh laugh as Spencer snarled and really twisted the cuff chain round. Jazz felt something warm running down one hand, so he'd obviously been cut, but he didn't care. It was nothing compared to most injuries he got. "I've heard 'bout yeh, White. Y'ain't exactly Russell's number one fan, are yeh? I ain't sure yeh could have any less respect fer him, so don' go talkin' t'meh 'bout it."

Samuel grabbed Spencer's wrist as the commander drew it back to hit Jazz and stopped the motion dead. "Action not recommended," he intoned emotionlessly. "Instruction: cease."

Spencer glared at the officer for several seconds, then wrenched his fist out of Samuel's grip. "Fine," he growled.

They continued for a few more minutes in silence, Jazz taking in every bit of the building he could and committing it to memory, creating a mind-map in his head as detailed as he could make it. He'd need it later, he was sure. They reached an elevator whose doors opened as they approached. Spencer pushed Jazz in first and the others piled in after him. Samuel mechanically pressed the button marked 'P', but instead of going up to the penthouse like Jazz was expecting it began to descend. He shifted slightly, bouncing gently from foot to foot until the elevator stopped smoothly and the doors hissed open.

He barely reigned back a surprised sound as he found himself in what could only be called a throne room. In essence, it was a massive, obviously underground, room with support pillars lining the outside and a huge chair and desk at the back, behind which sat a man with silver hair. He must be about the same age as the Commissioner, thought Jazz. There was an aura of strength around him, and a sharp, sly look in his eyes told Jazz this man could be incredibly great if he had chosen the right side of the law, but then it was that same greatness that kept him away from exactly that. The first tendrils of a grudging respect began to weave through him.

He was thrown unceremoniously forwards, and while Spencer had apparently meant to bring Jazz to his knees the saboteur steadied himself and kept upright, straightening and holding his head up, locking gazes with Morgan while Spencer made an inarticulate noise of rage.

Silence persevered for several minutes as Morgan examined Jazz thoroughly, and then a slow smile that lacked any warmth spread across his face. "Well, well, well. So this is the great Foxtrot."

Jazz never moved. "That's meh."

A snort. "Good. Modesty is wasted here, you will have no use for it."

"Modesty?" Jasper raised an eyebrow and shifted his weight onto one hip, adopting a sort of 'bitch, please' kind of pose. "I'm th'best there is dammit. Modesty is fer th'weak. If yer strong, flaunt it. I think I proved that back in LA, didn't I?" His lips curled up in a sneer. "Yer 'test' was ridiculously easy. No wind made sniperin' a breeze, so t' speak, the security system was nothin' short o' pathetic 'n if I hadn't taken out th' extra patrols they'd had stationed that yer men hadn't anticipated yeh all woulda been caught red-handed 'n carted off t'th'pen." He snorted disdainfully. "Foxtrot's takin' all th'credit fer this one, like it or not."

"Extra patrols?" Morgan glared at Thane, who stared back unwaveringly.

"They were impromptu and unscheduled my Lord, or I would have known about them."

"Everyone knows yeh need t' scout out th'area b'fore pullin' a heist," growled Jazz, golden eyes narrowing. "Yeh obviously hadn't, or if yeh had y'didn't do it thoroughly enough." Foxtrot's influence swirled gently into his consciousness, and Jazz had to forcefully quell a violent urge to attack Thane and show him who really was superior in this room. He realized he was going to have to do this a lot more while he was undercover. He could pushed Foxtrot back, keep him at bay in the deepest recesses of his mind, but the bloodthirstiness and violent tendencies would always be there. His eyes squeezed shut briefly to stop a tear from escaping.

Thane was about to retort when Morgan raised a hand. "Enough," he barked, and the assault specialist backed down respectfully. Morgan rose to his feet and pointed at Jazz. "Prove it to me now, then. Show me that what you pulled off tonight wasn't a trick of some kind."

Jazz's golden eyes flashed with something Morgan couldn't identify, and the smirk that twisted his lips while his shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug was pretty damn sadistic. "Alright, if th'boss man insists."

The lieutenant cracked his neck quickly to one side and slid open the cuffs he'd picked pretty much straight after Spencer had let go of them in the corridor upstairs. He turned around and leapt towards the commander before any of them had actually registered what had just happened. Jazz caught the commander and downed him with a simple toss over his right shoulder. From there he set one leg over Spencer's throat, another across his abdomen and clasped one arm to his own chest in such a way that if Spencer attempted to move it would most likely fracture. Spencer's gun was retrieved from its holster with Jazz's other free hand and aimed at the man's head, and everyone who had been making for the saboteur stopped abruptly in their tracks.

"Now," said Jazz blithely, "I realize Spencer ain't exactly th'most diplomatic o' all o' yeh, but from what I gather he's one o'th'strongest fighters in this room. Am I wrong?" He received no reply to state otherwise, to which he let a satisfied look settle on his features. "One quick twist 'n his arm is broken." He tightened his hold just to make a point, and Spencer cried out in pain angrily. "Yeh don' ever mess with Foxtrot if ya wanna live, and yeh certainly don' underestimate meh." He let Spencer squirm for another few seconds before releasing him and rolling backwards gracefully onto his feet.

Spencer, as soon as he was free, launched himself at Foxtrot with murder in his eyes, but Jazz side-stepped the attack and dodged or countered every move the commander made. The African-American grabbed an arm as it sailed past him in a failed attempt to slice him with an Army knife, brought it round and dug a heel into the back of the other man's neck, bringing him instantly to his knees, forcing him to drop the blade and render him unable to move once again. "Jus' give it up," said Jazz simply. "Yeh ain't gonna beat meh, not outta blind anger like that."

Jazz's statement along with Morgan's order to cease fighting immediately had Spencer sullenly submitting to his loss and resisting the want to try again when the dreadlocked man released him. He settled for a feral growl and stalked out the room without waiting for a dismissal, and Morgan watched him go in ill-disguised amusement.

"So." Morgan sat down and gave Jazz another once-over. "You've certainly got the stuff to be here."

"I'm sensin' a 'but' comin'," remarked Jazz dryly.

"Indeed. 'But' I need to know if you're willing to serve me. You will follow my orders and my rules without question, understood?"

Foxtrot made a contemptuous noise before Jazz could stop it. "I ain't promisin' anythin', I'm too independant t'be tied down t' anyone fer too long. But with enough freedom on my part yeh'll have m'services fer as long as yeh want 'em. That's th'best I can offer."

"Then it's what I'll have to live with." Morgan stood up once more and moved down to Jazz, extending his hand which Jazz took and shook firmly. "Welcome aboard, Foxtrot. I'm expecting great things from you."

"Now that I can guarantee."

-x-

Jazz waited until both Samuel and Thane had disappeared and he no longer had an escort to find the only blind spot in the cameras on the upper floor he was led in on and pull out his normal phone. He sent a quick text to Adam that read 'Antidote, 17 doses. You know where. Be careful and keep them hidden.' and flipped his phone closed, sliding it back into the pocket just inside his jeans waistband. He was glad he thought about giving Adam that bag of oxidase phials. Trusting that Adam wouldn't send him a reply back, he started then on a hunt for his bag which had been taken off him before they got to Morgan's place, deciding to explore a bit more while he did so and gain some extra info for his mind-map.

Room after room was explored (and sometimes broken into. With finesse and stealth, obviously. Man, he hoped no one would kill him for taking that door off its hinges...), each adding to his mind map but yielding no bag. They were mostly office rooms, conference rooms, computer labs, toilets and the occasional break room, the usual you'd expect in a building like this. Typical multi-storied construct.

Speaking of which...

The next room he barged into - another meeting one, it turned out - he made a beeline straight for the window and pulled back the curtains. He whistled softly in appreciation of the view that greeted him. He'd never seen Detroit from this high up before, and he had to admit she was stunning. From a good forty stories up she was spread out in front of him like a particularly tempting lover, all curvaceous structure and straight streets, softly lit and gleaming gently in the darkness now well-settled over her. He chuckled as Snow Patrol's 'Take Back the City' rolled briefly through his mind, and he bopped his head to its inaudible beat as he studied the view trying to spot landmarks and things that might help him determine exactly where Morgan's base of operations was.

In the end he gave up; he'd try tomorrow, it was too dark right now. He felt the first waves of sleepiness wash over him, and he suppressed a yawn as he slunk out the room. He was taken by surprise when his bag was suddenly dangling in front of his face, and he knocked it out the way and assumed a defensive stance instinctively. A nervous laugh reached his ears, and Rumble stepped into view.

"Sorry man, never meant to scare you."

Jazz snatched his bag up, checking inside to make sure everything was still there, and glared at Rumble. "B' glad I wasn't in a mood," snapped the lieutenant. "I coulda taken yer head off. What are yeh, crazy?"

"Others have said as much." Rumble shrugged slightly. "Shiv's a bit pissed off with you, because he couldn't get past the encryption program on that PDA thingy of yours."

Jazz snorted derisively. "O' course he can't, I programmed it mehself. Adaptive 'n viral if yer not careful. Someone like him could spend th'rest o' his life tryin' and never get past th'first level."

"Clever, aren't you?"

"Paranoid 'n delusional more like," the dreadlocked man countered, moving off to the elevator so he could get out, take his ride and go home. Apparently his Porsche had been brought back with them for a thorough searching, and nothing had been found much to Jazz's amusement. Rumble fell into step beside him.

"Listen, Foxtrot, about last time... I'm sorry, alright? I wasn't thinking. You had... have no reason to trust me not to kill you in your sleep and I should've realized that before asking anything."

"So yeh do have a brain in all that thick paddin' yeh call a head," retorted Jazz scathingly, Foxtrot was well and truly annoyed now and showing it.

Rumble winced slightly, faltering in his steps. "I'm sorry, alright?"

They reached the elevator and Jazz ignored the blue-haired man as he pressed the call button, and for the several second that passed before it arrived. Just as the doors opened Jazz spoke up once more. "There's somethin' important yeh need t'learn 'bout Foxtrot," he said, stepping into the carriage.

"What's that?" Rumble's expression looked a mixture of hope, fear and anxiety.

"He doesn't do second chances." The smirk Rumble saw right before the doors finished hissing closed was one of pure ice and the promise of some form of mad revenge. He shuddered and backed away from the elevator doors, starting to think that maybe it hadn't been smart to face Foxtrot without his brother's slightly soothing presence.

-x-

Adam jumped slightly as his phone let him know he had a text message. He opened the message to find it was from Jazz, telling him that he had to get the antidote to the workers at the dock and keep them hidden. Presumably so Morgan's crew wouldn't know they were still alive. He sighed, got up and stretched, then grabbed up the phone as he slipped a pair of tennis shoes on. He speed-dialled the station and Dana answered, far too brightly for whatever time it was right now. That girl worked far too much, he thought as he requested Orion. He knew the Commissioner worked late the last couple days of the week. There was a pause as Dana re-routed the call to his office, and then the tired, world-weary voice of Orion Arkham answered.

'Hello?'

"Sir, it's Adam."

'Ah, Detective. What are you calling this late about, Adam? You should be resting, you've had a trying past few days.'

"I know. Jazz's test was tonight, but he hasn't had chance to get back to the guards yet. He's asked me to do it for him, but it's gonna look weird if just one policeman shows up to an apparent multiple-homicide scene." Adam checked inside the paper bag Jazz brought with him earlier to make sure he had enough doses and needles.

'I see.' Orion paused, and then Adam could hear a wan smile in his next words. 'It'll get me out of this paperwork for a while, at least. I'll round up the graveyard shift and we'll meet you there. Where is it?'

"WSI. Dock twelve, Jazz said."

'Alright, let's get going.' Orion hung up and Adam did the same, snatching up his car and house keys, locking the front door and bounding down to his car.

Rae: ...is this the point I start cackling evilly yet? x