The Loft was much bigger than Taylor had anticipated; when Lisa had told her that the Undersiders had their headquarters in an old gutted warehouse, Taylor had thought it'd be smaller—for one reason or another. Then again, you don't really consider just how big a warehouse is until you've fit two stories, six rooms, and all the essentials of a home into one.

Alec and Brian followed closely behind Taylor and Lisa, with Alec breaking away from the group to throw himself onto the nearest couch. They'd just come from one of the egregiously expensive cafes on the Boardwalk, which made for an excellent first impression if you took Taylor's word for it. It was a bit difficult for her to accept the fact that these guys were criminals; they just seemed so normal out there, even as they were ironing out the details of Taylor's recruitment into the team.

Lisa seated herself on the open-floor kitchen's island, kicking her legs like a child.

"So, what do you think?" She asked, beaming. Taylor awkwardly let her eyes wander the room, unsure of what to say but uncomfortable with the expectant silence that followed Lisa's question.

"It's big." Taylor said.

"Hell yeah, it is." Alec spoke from his spot on the couch, his legs thrown over the leg and laid on his back. It was striking how nonchalant these guys managed to be despite being costumed villains; if Taylor didn't know any better, she'd suspect they were playing it up to lure her in, but something about their behavior struck her as natural. This was just normal for these guys, and that was... Taylor really couldn't put a word to the feeling. "Unnerving" felt too strong. Maybe "uncanny?"

"Six bedrooms, an open-floor kitchen, and reliable utilities—water, electricity, Internet." Brian spoke, "There is only one bathroom, though."

"Mhm." Taylor hummed. Brian took a seat at the kitchen island—the stool was almost comically small compared to him—and gestured for Taylor to take the seat opposite him. It struck Taylor as very professional, but that fit with the impression she'd gotten of Brian since they'd first met on that rooftop; then, he'd been the only one of the Undersiders wearing proper body armor, and, now, he very much looked the part of the put-together professional—sporting a light gray button down, rolled sleeves, and slate slacks.

Taylor sat.

"So, brass tacks. As a member of the Undersiders, you'll receive $10,000 every month; Lisa will help you with anything you need, but most of our accounting is handled by our boss."

Taylor nodded and glanced at Lisa, who shot her a smile. Alec had let it slip at the cafe that the Undersiders were on some mysterious benefactor's payroll, and Taylor had latched onto that information. Turning the Undersiders into the PRT—or at the very least their information—wouldn't be doing much good if there was a bigger fish out there that could just hire a new team of Capes. Taylor had resolved that she had to find the identity of the Undersiders' benefactor before she could turn anything over. Even if she wanted to go to the PRT now, Taylor suspected she'd only have one chance to burn this bridge.

"Sounds good."

"No questions?"

Taylor considered joking that if she thought they'd tell her, she'd ask who their boss was. She quickly disregarded the idea; it would've been way too suspicious.

"No."

Lisa hopped off of the kitchen island and briefly hugged Taylor's shoulders. The abrupt gesture sent a shock through Taylor's system, but she managed to quell the urge to pry Lisa's arms off. Maybe it was because Taylor wasn't used to people being this affectionate—with people they barely knew and with her specifically—or maybe Lisa was just friendly by nature. Either way, this would take some getting used to.

"Awesome!" Lisa almost squealed, "You're in luck too. We've got a vacant bedroom just for you; it just needs to be furnished."

"Oh, um, I've already got a place. You don't have to do that." Taylor interjected. Lisa grimaced at Taylor's words—friendly and expressive, Taylor noted.

"Can we do it anyway?"

Taylor fumbled to find her words, thrown off balance by Lisa's pleading.

"Just take the room." Alec spoke; he'd gotten up from the couch and joined the rest of them in the kitchen, resting his elbows on the kitchen island and his chin in his hands. Taylor's first impression of Alec wasn't wrong; he was very much a twink. He had a pale, unblemished complexion, a slim figure, and boyish features—Taylor was almost jealous that a man could be so pretty. "Lisa won't let up until you take it anyway. Brian insists on living at his place, and she still nags him every chance she gets."

"He bled all over the good couch last time he got hurt." Lisa protested before turning back to Taylor, "Let's furnish it, just in case. Better safe than sorry, right?"

Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat as the whine of the entrance's hinges hit her ears. She turned and almost jumped out of her seat as two dogs—a Rottweiler and a breed she didn't recognize—were prowling towards her, growling quietly. Behind them was a broad-shouldered woman; her features were blunt, and it looked like she'd never done anything but scowl. The clack-tap of her boots on the hardwood floor of the warehouse echoed through the Loft in response to the ominous silence as she closed in on Taylor.

The woman got as close to Taylor as she could without pressing their bodies together, and she towered over Taylor. The faint scent of filth that clung to her made Taylor's nose wrinkle. The woman glared down at Taylor, her choppy auburn hair falling into her face, and Taylor reciprocated with a glare of her own.

"Rachel." Brian said. His voice was low and cold—an unspoken threat underlying the word. Rachel held Taylor's glare, the silent tension causing Taylor to break out in goosebumps. She'd be lying if she said that Rachel didn't terrify her; she couldn't have been any taller than Taylor, but, from a glance, Rachel's physique beat Taylor's by a mile—taut muscle hidden beneath a dirty wife beater suggested that Taylor wouldn't stand a chance in a direct confrontation with Rachel. So, Taylor did the first thing that came to her: she grabbed the straps of Rachel's undershirts and slammed her forehead into Rachel's nose as hard as possible.

Brian shot up from his seat and put himself between them as Rachel stumbled back, the Loft echoing with the sounds of dogs' barking. Rachel steadied herself, shoving Brian's hand from her shoulder and cradling her nose with her free hand. When she removed it, she did a double take, inspecting the blood on her fingers, and Taylor felt the tension in the room rise significantly as the others noticed the blood running from Rachel's nose.

Taylor felt the buzz of her power rising in her ears as Rachel's glare returned to her, but she didn't make any moves to retaliate. Instead, Rachel huffed through her nose, spraying blood over her lips and chin, and marched to the stairs leading to the second floor of the Loft, followed closely by her dogs. The tension was quickly replaced by confusion as Taylor looked between Brian and Lisa, who both looked just as baffled. When Rachel came down the stairs, she'd crudely stuffed her nostrils with toilet paper and had thrown a backpack over one shoulder; she ushered her dogs out the door.

"Where're you going?" Brian called after her.

"Out." Rachel replied, her voice nasally. The door slammed behind her, and the silence that followed was palpable.

"You've got balls, dork." Alec broke the silence. "I'm impressed."

"It could've been worse." Lisa added, "She could've sicced her dogs on you."

"What?" Taylor was shocked out of her silence by that.

"Don't worry about it." Brian quickly interjected, "Just don't do that again, please."

"Still want on the team?" Lisa asked. Taylor considered the question for a second, wondering if what she'd just done might end up coming back to bite her. Although the rest of the Undersiders seemed far more concerned about Taylor's recruitment than what she'd just done, maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I still want in."

————————————————————————

Pain shot up through Taylor as she landed on her tailbone; a pained groan escaped her as she looked up at Brian, noticing his extended hand. She took it, and he lifted her onto her feet with no effort at all. Sparring practice was mandatory as far as Brian was concerned, and if she hadn't already done it on her own time, he'd have had her go through a basic first aid course. Not that Taylor was complaining; she didn't mind the practice.

"Not bad, but you've got to jump right back up when you're down. Can't let your opponent press the advantage." Brian advised. He pressed a cold water bottle into Taylor's hand, the condensation leaking from between her fingers.

"Thanks." Taylor said.

"You're doing a lot better than some people." Brain spoke loud enough for his voice to carry him to the living space, where Alec lazed on one of the couches, playing some games.

"What? Why would I spar with you when I know I'll lose?" Alec asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"Scared to get your ass beat?"

"Fuck you." Alec replied, not at all malicious. Taylor snickered quietly and took a sip of the water Brian had given her. It was refreshing; she hadn't realized just how dry her mouth and throat had been until now. When Taylor stopped, she'd drunk half the bottle, and she stretched the soreness from her muscles.

Taylor had only been with the Undersiders for less than two days now, and they'd already planned a bank robbery at that time. It was still difficult for her to really wrap her head around—that she'd be participating in a bank heist, probably fighting Capes. Brian seemed like the only person who was as anxious as she was, though; the rest of the Undersiders had been pretty nonchalant—even aloof—when they were planning a robbery yesterday. It was nice to have someone else who was on the same page as Taylor for once.

"Ready for another round?" Brian asked.

Taylor opened her mouth to say, "Yes," but the whine of the Loft's front door interrupted her. She turned to watch the door open, and Lisa stepped past the threshold into the Loft wearing an uncharacteristically wide smile.

"Hey, Lisa—." Brian trailed off as Lisa pulled a man Taylor didn't recognize into the Loft. He was taller than Lisa—as tall as Taylor—and he carried himself more like she'd noticed Brian did: his back straight, shoulders back, and chin high. The man wasn't nearly as imposing, but his features were harder than Brian's; his cheeks were gaunt and his nose and cheekbones were sharp—the type of guy you'd see in a B-List action movie. He was chiseled, but not in an attractive way—more like a poor imitation of what a handsome man looked like than anything else. Still, when his eyes—so dark and brown they might as well have been black—fell on Taylor, she felt a chill run down her spine. "Who is that?" Brian's words were cold.

"Our new teammate!" Lisa cheered.

"We talked about this." Brian spoke. "You can't just bring anyone off the—"

"Hush." Lisa interrupted him. "This comes from the boss. Nonnegotiable."

Brian folded his arms and marched to Lisa's new arrival. A quick glance over Taylor's shoulder revealed that Alec had taken his attention from his game to watch what was about to unfold, though he didn't look concerned. Taylor, on the other hand, felt very concerned. Brian towered over the new arrival, and the two couldn't have looked any different. Where Brian wore a sweat-stained undershirt, slacks, and loafers, the other man wore an olive bomber jacket and khaki cargo pants bloused over combat boots. Where Brian wore neat cornrows, the new arrival wore a low fade.

"Is that right?" Brian asked, glaring down at the new guy.

"It is." The new guy said; his voice had a slight accent that Taylor couldn't place, but it was enough to suggest he wasn't a native to Brockton, and it was just as cold as Brian's had been. "Brian Laborn, right?"

Taylor could see Brian's shoulders tense.

"That's Alec." The new guy pointed to Alec and jabbed a thumb back at Lisa. "And, of course, that's Lisa Wilbourn—we're already acquainted." He pushed past Brian and glared at Taylor. Despite the fact that he was less imposing than Brian, this new arrival's stare was far more intense than anything Taylor had experienced herself. "But you. I don't know you." Taylor swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Taylor." She managed.

"Taylor." He repeated.

"And who're you?" Brian put a hand on the new arrival's shoulder before he could close the distance between himself and Taylor.

"Ollie Lynch." Ollie replied without hesitation. "Call me Hitman."

"I never heard of you."

"Good."

Lisa quickly put herself between the two of them; her words were almost breathless with the effort of putting space between the two men that easily dwarfed her.

"He's a professional assassin and mercenary. Boss wants a professional on the team—an expert's opinion could help us a lot." Lisa hurried to speak.

"So, what? You're here for a paycheck?" Brian asked.

"Aren't you?" Ollie returned the question.

Brian only scowled in response. Ollie broke away from the tense huddle and walked to the center of the lobby, absently digging into the right cargo pocket of his pants and producing a small pill bottle. He twisted the top off with a pop and dumped a chalky white pill into his palm. He tossed it into his mouth before speaking again.

"So. Where's Ms. Lindt?"

Taylor heard Brutus snarl before she saw him, which was quite impressive for a dog his size. A sharp whistle tore through the tense silence, and everything that followed felt like it happened in the breath of a second. Ollie sidestepped, throwing himself to the right, revealing Brutus lunging forward with his jaws open, ready to close on where Ollie had been a moment ago. Ollie's hand closed on the back of Brutus' neck, and he used his momentum to throw the Rottweiler onto the hardwood floor. He held Brutus against the floor with his left hand at the base of the dog's skull, Brutus' jaws snapping and barking futilely. Ollie pulled a handgun from the inside of his jacket, aimed at Brutus' head, and Rachel roared as she rushed forward.

"Wait! I'll kill you, you stupid fuckwit!" Angelica and Judas were at her heels, teeth bared, and barking.

"That doesn't sound like an apology." Ollie chided.

"I swear to God!"

"Call off the dogs." Brian interrupted. Rachel stared at him, dumbfounded. "Call them off!" Brian repeated it, sterner this time. Rachel scowled and brought her fingers to her lips; the sharp whistle was met by her dogs falling silent and Brutus' legs scratching at the floor as he strained against Ollie's grip, eager to return to his master. Ollie let go and stood, holstering his pistol. Rachel did as she had when Taylor had broken her nose and stomped to her room to fetch a backpack and leave in a huff.

"Thanks." Ollie said.

"Don't thank me." Brian shot back. "That was impressive. What's your power?"

"Ooh! Mover, and…. Thinker? Yeah. Superhuman reflexes, agility, and immediate danger sense." Lisa spoke on Ollie's behalf. Taylor would've said that sounded pretty average if she hadn't just watched it in action. Brian, Lisa, and Ollie fell into conversation, discussing the details of Ollie's recruitment into the Undersiders; they got along like a house on fire after that stunt Rachel had pulled. Alec had lost interest and returned his attention to the TV, but Taylor was left pretty shaken. As far as Taylor was aware, the rest of the Undersiders were no more than petty criminals, but they'd planned a robbery of Brockton Bay's biggest bank just yesterday, and now a professional killer was joining them. Ollie spared Taylor a momentary glance, and it gave her chills to imagine how many people he'd killed had seen those same eyes.

She needed to contact Armsmaster.