The Arranger exited his vehicle and walked towards the elevators marked in the dimness by a series of day-glow signs scattered around parking level seven. He scanned around and smiled nostalgically, witnessing again in his mind’s eye what this place had looked like back in September of 2001.

Things were different then, he recalled. The country was wounded, the city angry, confused – vulnerable. His Saab which had been parked here had been buried in half a foot of that vile ash and dust mixture which had coated downtown when the towers fell. He’d had an important delivery in the trunk and not being able to access it for that whole week had cost him a client.

In hindsight he should have seen it coming. Someone up the chain probably had, but putting limits on who and what you’ll deal with as an organization tends to narrow one’s view of the horizon. When it came to operations, his own organization’s record was just as morally questionable as Al Qaeda’s, but apparently even Viper had standards.

So long as he served the serpent they were his standards, too, he mused with some consternation, but such thoughts were best put aside until the time for reflection was at hand and that time was not now. Now was the time for stereotypically and unnecessarily covert meetings between representatives of groups which on any other day would likely be considered rivals and not allies.

His counterpart was already here. Standing by the elevator door, having just reached them himself, was a middle-aged man. Unlike his choice of a well-tailored yet unassuming business suit, this one wore khaki shorts and a golf shirt. With his retro-styled brown hair and expensive walking sandals he seemed more like one of the millions of over-fed tourists which flock to New York City in the summertime than a point of contact for a major criminal organization.

They stood next to each other without so much as an acknowledgement until the elevator arrived. Then both men stepped into the car and the door closed behind them. The man in the golf shirt pressed the number for the ground floor. Then he retrieved a small battery-sized device from his pants pocket and pressed it against the car wall where it stuck.

“Keeps this private,” the casually-dressed man explained with a gesture to the device. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

His tone was smarmy and the Arranger considered him a bit too glib for the circumstances.

“This is a professional courtesy,” the Arranger replied smoothly. “I’m listening.”

The casual man wasn’t put off but instead smiled open-mouthed in amusement and held up his hands. “Okay, okay…” He put his hands in his pockets and said, “We’re taking a hard look at our new neighbors but there’s not much to know. Most of them don’t have an official file to speak of and what’s unofficial is surprisingly thin. Lee’s apparently smarter than we realized, and that’s saying something. Well, we’ve got a plan for filling in the holes, but we could use your help. The way we figure it, you’re probably looking at the same holes and so we both stand to benefit here.”

The Arranger listened and weighed the revelation. It wasn’t every day that the opposition revealed a weakness, but was it really a weakness? The man was right – Viper hadn’t been able to dredge up much information on the newly-arrived New York Knights either, but he knew the other man couldn’t have been certain and was likely probing for a reaction. He didn’t give him one.

“We’re still assessing our intelligence,” he replied noncommittally, “but keep talking.”

The casual man smiled again and shook his head, clearly amused at the front being put up by his more business-like contemporary.

“Well, it’s a pretty straightforward plan.” Over the rest of the ride down he explained it.

When the doors to the elevator car opened at the ground floor, the Arranger was thinking the details through and nodding to himself.

“It has some merit, I’ll give you that,” he said. “I’ll have to take this back to my people but I believe they’ll react positively.” Not the least of reasons why was that despite the lack of true risk to his organization, it dovetailed nicely with some of their other ongoing interests.

“Fine, great,” the casual man replied as he stepped out of the car after retrieving his little eavesdropping blocker. He turned and added with a smile, “You know how to contact me,” before the doors closed.

On the way back up to his car, the Arranger used his mobile phone to arrange a debriefing with his superior. “Interesting, and potentially very useful,” was all he revealed over his mobile phone about the meeting, and both adjectives were quite appropriate.

The Pier, New York City
June 1, 2008
12:44 Hours

The team had gathered in the C&C along with an unusually chipper Daniel Lee and NYPD Lieutenant Carla Moody, a tall, heavy-set black woman who had become a frequent visitor to the Pier over the last two days.

It had been a quiet two weeks since the first day when the press had descended on their fortress like an invading army. Little actual field work had been done, with none of the city agencies calling in emergencies and no actual events demanding their attention, the Knights had spent most of the time training to work as a team and working with the various tools at their disposal.

The communicators were used with much less awkwardness, and the crime scene kits were familiar to them now. Everyone could safely launch the Falcon, get it airborne, and set the auto-pilot for a destination, although nobody was near proficient enough in Lee’s estimation to conduct actual piloting maneuvers just yet.

Lee had told them to value the quiet times like these, that this was what they would look forward to once things got more engrossing, but there was still a growing sense of frustration in the old-timer’s mood about the Knights not getting more involved in the daily routine of the city.

Until two days ago, Lee had become downright cranky. But then he cheerfully announced that his constant negotiations with One Police Plaza had finally bourne fruit. The direct link between the Pier and the NYPD was to be reestablished and a new liaison officer was to be named.

Said officer was Lieutenant Moody. Although she looked like she’d have trouble meeting the physical requirements of a police officer, she had proven to be professional, smart, and ready to answer questions. She’d managed to get the link up a few hours ahead of schedule and was now going over the finer points with the team.

“The officers on-scene were given their protocols for calling in the Knights during the shift briefs. When a call is made, it gets routed to central dispatch who then activates the link. That will trigger a cascading series of notification messages including pages to one of the Deputy Chiefs, the Mayor’s appointed staff person, and Mr. Lee here. But the first thing that happens is your computer is notified and will alert you all via your team communicators and a facility-wide alert.

”Emergency alert…" The voice of the Pier’s main computer was unmistakeable and was accompanied by a flashing message on the giant main viewscreen which read: "Emergency alert…emergency alert…"

Flashfire was faster -- much faster -- but Chance was standing right there and beat him to it. "What we got here, Ah wonder?" She asked no one in particular, sliding into the chair before the screen.

Rachel's head snapped around when the alert went off. Excitement and fear mixed within her as she wondered what was happening. The labs had been awesome and the training time had been fun, if exhausting, but this was the real thing, this was what they had signed up for. Time to have some fun.

Mayhem started a bit at the sound but quickly fell back into her lazy lean against the wall, where she had been examining the ends of her long hair for any splits. She was pretty certain that it was some sort of test alert and wasn't overly worried.

Training with the others had very instructive and fascinating for Elastic Man but also potentially dangerous. He'd still not told the rest of the team his real background. All they knew was that he was Rick Roe, recently from Bensonhurst in Brooklyn. He'd explained his powers as being due to a mutation and, although he was a mutant, that wasn't actually the nature of his abilities. Lying to his new friends seemed wrong but, after this long, he was used to saying those lies and they easily tripped off his rubbery tongue.

One day he was going to have to tell them. Probably one day soon.

Like Lee, Elastic Man had been eager to get involved with the daily exploits of the city. He wanted to help these people, almost needed to, and so when the alarm went off Elastic Man felt a strange sense of relief.

"Finally, a call to arms", he said, turning towards Chance at the monitor station. His neck then stretched over towards Chance so that his head could look over his teammate's shoulder.

Johnny had enjoyed the training sessions and even the quiet times well enough. It wasn't unlike time spent in a Firehouse, waiting for the claxon to go off, and hoping it never did. When the alarm finally did sound, he was in the situation room like a shot, ready to respond to anything.

Dynamo looked from alert to the officer and back to the alert. "OK - let's run this the way we have been taught. Chance -- take the call." He hoped that the team would do well; but it was his experience that everyone needed a shake-down mission before things could ever be good.

"Computer, put it through," Chance said, gloved hands at the keypad in readiness. "What is the emergency?"

The large viewscreen changed from the flashing alert message to a split-screen view. The left half of the wide screen showed a street map of the city centered on the intersection of West 23rd Street and 6th Avenue, the location highlighted by a glowing red pin point. On the right hand side of the screen, the top half was being filled with text from a rapidly scrolling cursor that darted left to right across the space leaving words in its wake.

10-34 LVL 3
W 23RD & 6TH
23RD ST PATH STN

SINGLE SUBJECT ARMED HVY WEAP
ASSLT PO...PROP DESTRUCT...

Underneath that was a sound wave analysis of audio being streamed to the Pier from NYPD central dispatch. The tone of the call was steady but with a frantic edge. The background noise was mainly screams of panic and the occasional explosion.

**Car 218 requesting backup! Officers under fire! (boom) One gunman armed with...I think it's a grenade launcher, firing at random targets. (boom) Subject keeps repeating calls for the New York Knights. I believe him to be metahuman, repeat, this is a metahuman perp.**

In the background a mans voice was clearly heard shouting, "Get 'em down here already!"

**(loud boom) Fall back! Fall back! Car 218 requesting backup! (very loud boom)**

The rest was static.

Dynamo wasted no time, "Flashfire - get there now and get eyes on the target. But don't engage unless you have to. Priority one is civilians, then first responders." He was always impressed with the way the air parted when Flashfire took off. "Everyone else get to the Falcon."

Johnny didn't need to be told twice, he was already gone. Out the front gate, over to 6th street, The Avenue of the Americas. He hung a left onto sixth, which was one way heading towards 23rd. He kept his speed just under the speed of sound, since he didnt want to bust all the windows in the steel canyons of downtown. In under 20 seconds, he had weaved his way through traffic to the intersection, trying to assess the situation.

Once they were on the Falcon and underway, Dynamo looked at his team. "OK. Here's our plan. Frostie, Mayhem, and Chance you help Flashfire keep everyone safe. Elastic Man and I will engage the bad guy. Once people are safe, come and join the party." He looked out the window and wished he was flying ahead, he hated sending a teammates ahead of him into danger. "Everyone watch out for each other, we'll be OK." He was, with a firm confidence. He was worried about the rest of his teammates - especially Rachel. But, if the commander seemed out of his depth, there was no way the team would feel confident. So, he was sure of himself and of them.

"Wait just a minute." Mayhem's mouth was set in a firm line as she looked over at Dynamo. "I forget which twisted era you're from, but I hope you aren't putting the girls on safety patrol...outta some sense of macho bullcrap."

Good question, Chance thought, pausing nearby to hear the man's answer.

"No ma'am." He said politely but firmly, "I'm putting you there because it is the most important thing. Now, get on the plane." He said in a tone that could only be taken as an order. "If you have a complaint, you can register it after we have handled this."

Heh. Good answer, she agreed, chuckling aloud.

"I'm hearing you Dynamo." She put a hand lightly on his arm to show that there were no hard feelings, but just as much to watch him squirm. "Look it. We may look too damn fine to be useful, but we're not. Just don't let pussycats on safety patrol become SOP. mmmK?"

"After." He said tersely, seemingly uncaring about her hand. "Discussions after danger."

Rachel checked her new mask one more time as she climbed into her seat. It was much easier to breath and talk with her mouth exposed, but she was more worried about it slipping. The smile on her face was tentative. She was excited and scared at the same time. This was her first real mission, her first chance to prove she could handle the life of a Knight. Part of her wondered if her father would be watching them. After their last phone call, she hadn't heard from him. She hoped she would make him proud.

Chance nodded at Dynamo, but put her arm around Frostbite. "You okay, kiddo?"

Rachel grinned broadly. "Oh yeah, Chance. I'm just a little nervous. This will be my first fight." She grinned at the superhero. "I can't decide if I'm more excited than I am scared, or more scared than I am excited." She laughed a bright, nervous laugh and mock glared at Dynamo. "I'm not so sure I like being called Frostie, though. Makes me think of a fat snowman in a top hat."

Mayhem grinned over at Rachel and Chance as they were talking. "Did you hear that Dynamo? Miss Sunshine doesn't like to be called Frostie. Add that to your list of complaints. Give you five bucks if you can tell me her real hero name without looking." Salandra's grin made it clear that she wasn't the least bit worried about whatever threat was waiting for them on the streets of New York.

"Understood Frostbite." He walked to the door of the Falcon and watched each member of his team load in. His mind held a timer acutely aware how long Flashfire was out there alone. Once the last one was on, he stepped onto the deck, closed the door and radioed the pilot that they were ready for take-off.

"Chance -- get up front. As soon as you have a visual and can safely port into the situation; do it." He said, "If we can find a usable video feed -- go as soon as you have something." Then he turned to Mayhem and Frostbite, "You two get out with me. Elastic Man, get out when any time after that.*"

Rachel smiled at the big man. "Sure Dynamo, whatever you want. I was just kidding about the Frostie thing. It really isn't a big deal, as long as you don't make me use the theme song." She laughed, trying to lighten the big man's mood a little.

"Cain't P-jump from a movin' vehicle safely, Chief. The velocity goes with me," Chance replied, equally terse. "If Ah'm gonna go, Ah need to do it now, before this thing takes off."

She looked at Dynamo, dark eyes peering out from a black and white domino mask confidently. "Ah can get in safely. Be there in less than five seconds."

"Then go, but we don't know what we're dealing with; so wait for everyone before you start to engage the bad guy." He keyed his communicator, "Flashfire, Chance will be meeting you on-site. The rest of us are a minute or two out."

She nodded tersely. "Metahuman -- with a grenade launcher. Somethin' don't add up here, Chief. You lot be careful -- you're all a bunched together target when this plane gets in his sights." With that she pixellated out, having chosen the five-story building on the north corner of that intersection as a good arrival point when the call came in....

Elastic Man sat down in the Falcon, reacting very little to Dynamo's commands. He simply nodded in acceptance and generally kept quiet. This was something he was used to. His military background meant that he listened to his commanding officer and carried out his commands without question. Well, most of the time.

Still, Chance's words brought something to his attention. He was going to say something to Chance but she'd teleported away before he could say anything. Luckily they still had their comm units.

"Sir", Elastic Man asked, snapping to attention in front of Dynamo. "I believe getting the civilians as far away from this metahuman as possible is a wise course of action. If, as Chance says, he targets this craft with his weapon I may be able to bounce the grenade back at him but only if the area is clear and the metahuman can withstand the explosion".

Elastic Man stated his intention clearly and quickly. It meant that he'd have to clamber out onto the outside of the Falcon when they got close but that shouldn't be too much trouble if they were moving slowly at that point.

"Good plan, Elastic man." He watched as the bendable hero climbed out of the falcon and formed to its silhouette. "If he makes this ship the target and you can't bounce it back at him (for whatever reason), throw the projectile high."

As Rachel got into her seat, an idea hit her. "Hey Dynamo, any chance we can get a report from our new police liason as to why they think this guy is a metahuman? It might help up plan on how to kick his butt."

"Do it." He said with a smile. "Good idea."

Rachel smiled happily. "That's right, the communicator." Clearing her throat, she spoke to the air. "Frostbite to Lieutenant Moody. Could you please see if you can find out what sort of metahuman abilities the attacker is exhibiting? Thank you very much." Despite her nervousness, Rachel's voice was still cheerful.

**You know what I know,** came Moody's voice over the comm line. **I'll see what I can find out from dispatch.**

Mayhem's green eyes were sullen as she sat in the craft watching Dynamo enter in their coordinates. The inside of her bottom lip was actually sore from biting it, she was trying very hard to remain quiet and focussed, but the idea of showing up on the scene in the Falcon was eating her alive. Finally when she could bear her silence no longer, she blurted out was bothering her. "Look it! Why are we going in this thing. We can't make an entrance in the Falcon. This is our first real impression...and we're not making an entrance." She sighed a bit. "I know in the big picture it doesn't seem important, but a lot of a heroes reputation rides on their entrance. And we're flying in there with Elastic Man as a bumper sticker...it's just wrong."

"Fly the plane, Mayhem." Dynamo said flatly. "When this is over, we can talk at length about your concerns. But, so long as we have people in harm's way, we don't have time to talk about things that don't matter. Are we clear on that?"

The scene was enough to give Flashfire a jolt of post-traumatic stress. It wasn't as bad as his memories of 9-11, but it was bad. Cars were on fire at three different locations that he could see along with a city bus, all looking like they'd been hit with explosives. One of them was a police car. It was upside down and nearly blown in half.

The intersection was one of the busier ones in the city, but right now it was practically deserted. The few people Flashfire did see on the streets were running in panic away from the location, but experience told him there would be many hiding or trapped in the surrounding buildings. There were three unmoving bodies on the ground by the destroyed bus. Two were men, one old and one young, and an indeterminate aged female in business attire. One more lay by a dark scorchmark near the entrance of the subterranean PATH station. This one was very young, just a kid. His clothes looked singed.

The NYPD had set up a command post of sorts - mainly just four cars with the officers behind them, on 6th almost all the way to West 24th. Behind them Flashfire could see the FDNY response units and an ambulance forming up, waiting for an all-clear. The cops had their guns out and trained south but curiously enough weren't firing.

The object of their attention stood in the middle of the ruined intersection, pacing in a small circle. He had the external shape of a man but was completely devoid of any detail. He was a man-shaped colorless silhouette of dull, smoky grey, without color or expression or mood. The silhouette held something gun-shaped with a wide, two foot-long barrel.

Chance pixellated onto the roof of the building at the intersection's northeast corner and took in the scene from five stories up.

She almost missed her reason for being here, his featureless dark grey form blended in so well with the smoke and pavement. It wasn't until he shouted, "Where the hell are they?!" that she took notice.

Chance clamped her jaws shut tight at that, fury rising in her like an unrelenting tide. Anger is your enemy's best weapon girl, she reminded herself, drawing in deep breaths for calm, for clear thought. She keyed the communications node for the Falcon, reined-in anger making her voice tight.

**"Dynamo, this is Chance on-scene. Ah don't see Flashfire yet. Ah got the perp in sight, sorta. He... don't really have any features to speak of. Grey-lookin' fella, obviously hostile, also obviously meta. But -- it's just him. Ain't much of a threat for all of us -- so somethin' else has gotta be goin' on. There's a bus on fire and three unmoving bodies near it. Another body down in front of the PATH station entrance -- looks young. Ain't movin'."**

She took another deep breath, went on. Attacking civilians to make a point was a VIPER tactic and it still infuriated her, to this day. **"NYPD's a block away, up toward 24th. Ah ain't sure Ah can get to the casualties without givin' Spooky down there an excuse to do more shootin'. Ah am pretty sure Ah can get in behind him and give him a case of the Murphy's he'll never forget, though."** Even in their brief time together they'd each experienced it at least once -- the stinging smack of instant karma exploding all over, and the subsequent feeling that Murphy on steroids was sitting on their shoulder afterward, making everything they did go wrong. They called the effects of the attack "a case of the Murphy's" and it was appropriate. **"Should set him up real nice before you get here."**

Flashfire had been about to "key" his radio and give the sitrep, when he heard Chance's voice break the squelch. So rather than clog the channel he opted to stay silent. Maintaining eyes on target he made a beeline for the PATH station entrance and kneeled down at the fallen youngster. In a second he had checked the boy's vitals and general condition. Then he and the boy were gone before the smoke surrounding them could rush to fill in the space.

Dynamo checked the GPS; they were still not close enough to help yet. He did see that Flashfire was on site from his GPS beacon.

**Chance/Flashfire -- work together. Chance, distract him - keep him from shooting again (as best you can). Flashfire -- when you see an opening get anyone to safety that you can.**

**I'm ahead of youse, D,** came Flashfire's voice over the team frequency in that funny, tinny, slightly-distroted tone his voice picked up when running at super-speeds. **That kid by the PATH needed emergency treatment so I evac'd him to Bellevue.**

Dynamo leaned into the cockpit, not really to say anything so much as to feel like he was getting there faster. He hated having two of his team out there working without the support of the others. Mayhem could practically hear his jaw clench in frustration. Still, he managed not to ask her to drive faster.

Mayhem's head turned regard him, sensing his impatience was as keen as her own to get there. Her brown hair crackled with a sudden energy as the air in the cockpit raced towards her.

"Want me to get out and push?" She offered him a small smile but was pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate her attempt at humor.

**Acknowledged, Dynamo. Flashfire, you're prob'ly movin' so fast Ah cain't see you, so Ah'll be dependin' on you to see me,** Chance said, willing her probability Field into place around her, then rolled her eyes. This time it looked like little guppies or maybe tadpoles, almost transparent but not quite, swimming in the air around her. Oh this oughta be good, she thought. **"Ah'm goin' in now."**

Eyes narrowing, she picked a spot least likely to cause further injury to anyone who happened to be trapped in the buildings nearby, and about 5 meters (2.5 hexes) away. She pixellated into that spot as if it had been reserved just for her. "Afternoon," she called out, tipping her stylish white fedora politely. "Quite a mess you've made here, honey. What's all the ruckus about?"

He turned around to face her, not quite leveling his implement. There was a hesitation as he checked her out, and then he asked, "You're Chance, right? Where's your friends?"

"Hey, you heard of me. Now that's all right," she replied, smiling though she mostly wanted to take this guy down hard. "Ah cain't return the favor though, sorry to say. What's your name? Cain't exactly go on callin' you `Spooky' -- although, if that's your code name, Ah suppose Ah'll have to, huh?"

He sighed and said, "Don't matter," mainly to himself. "We'll wait." He never turned away from her, but just stood there.

"Well now, that's mighty nice of you, to help me do my job," Chance allowed. Ah should just take this guy out and be done with it -- in the old days Ah would have. But hell, Dynamo's instructions were pretty clear, and my codename ain't `Mayhem'. She knew the Falcon and HQ were listening in on this exchange, so she extemporized a bit.

"But either you're real stupid -- not takin' the opportune moment to shut me down while you can -- or this ain't what it seems." She crossed her arms over her chest, deceptively casual. "Wanna go have a coffee and talk it over?"

The man - she assumed it was a man by the voice, given that Chance couldn't see any detail beyond his blank, grey outlines - chose not to answer. He simply waited, just like he said.

Flashfire returned and ran from one body to the next checking vitals. It was a burst of speed and then a stop, and then a burst of speed and then a stop. The man with the gun noted it and Chance wasn't sure if he was nervous about it or not as he shifted to try and make sure he had them both in view.

He noticed her looking and said, "Don't worry your pretty head. Your fast little buddy can do whatever he wants. I'm not here for them.

The Falcon's engine noise preceeded it's arrival in the sky above the smoking scene of vehicular carnage. As it settled closer, the side door opened and the team came out in a colorful wave of sueprheroics. Elastic Man was the last one down, detatching himself from the vehicle and flowing downward in a thin ribbon that flitted along the air until it reformed among the rest of the team into the person.

"About damn time," the strange figure said to them as they approached. "I'd tell ya to work on your response time, but that don't matter none now I guess."

Before the Falcon got to the scene, Rachel concentrated. Ice crystals formed on her body, then quickly spread until she was covered from head to toe in a layer of ice. She flexed her hands a few times, just to make sure she could move them properly, then waited for the signal to launch. When it was time, she created a slide of ice under her feet that propelled her out of the Falcon and to the ground. Once there, she ignored the figure, other than a curious glance, and focussed her attention on her job. She looked for anyone in need of help or cover.

Seeing the four people down, she took a deep breath. The fire nearby scared her, but she was determined to do her job. Once again she summoned up an ice slide and moved herself closer to the three by the bus, putting herself between the villain and them. With a wave of her hand, a wall of ice appeared, shielding them from him.

Elastic Man reformed from the ribbony parachute shape into his normal red, white and blue humanoid form in less than a second. Remembering Dynamo's orders, he took a step forward and then flexed his hands, forming them into large mallets, ready for action. The others noticed that his whole stance and body language seemed to change; he began to flex and become more animated.

The strange figure confronting them looked like he might be immaterial or gaseous, though it was difficult to tell. Elastic Man wondered whether normal physical attacks would harm him. He guessed they'd have to find out.

"Say Mr Spooky - you're looking a little pale!" Elastic Man called out. Even his voice sounded different, more outgoing and teasing. "How about you put down that weapon of yours and come along quietly? Let us clean up this mess for you, eh?"

He glanced at Dynamo, wondering how the man wanted to handle this. Hit him first and ask questions later? Or find out what the guy wanted before rushing in? Whatever, Elastic Man made sure he was this guy's primary target and thus letting the others get the injured to safety.

Dynamo stopped just in front of the gray-man, hovering about 3 feet off the ground. "By order of the New York Police Department, put the weapon down and surrender. Now."

The atomic hero had no real belief that this man would surrender; but he hoped to buy his team another few seconds to get those injured away from the combat.

GM: See several places above where I entered stuff for Flashfire.