Raven’s alabaster skin stood out in stark contrast to her surroundings as she paced down The Needle. The Needle was located in Lafayette between Parsons Avenue and Pander Street. If there was a worse place for a beautiful white woman to find herself in all of Hudson City, it would have been impossible to find. The street gangs there had no tolerance for any skin color other than black. Whites and Hispanics both respected that rule, and when they didn’t, there was a bullet ready to welcome them.

Interestingly enough, as far as Raven was concerned, that wasn’t her reality. All of the signs in the case she’d been following, concerning the deadly and allusive Cartel Cocktail, had pointed to Freetown. It didn’t take long before she had summoned a small crowd behind her, while others hastily disappeared, knowing with certainty that they didn’t want to be there to bear witness to what was going to go down.

"Brilliant disguise, Bond--a white face in Harlem."

That line from an old James Bond movie kept rattling around in Raven's mind as she strolled through perhaps the worst neighborhood in Hudson City. It looked like a war zone: half the windows in sight were broken or boarded up and the rest were locked behind steel gratings. Most of the street lights were out. Burned out hulks of tenements squatted on every block. The others looked like they ought to be condemned--and some of them had been if the graffiti-covered notices were to be believed.

The street stank of trash, uncollected for god knows how long when even the cops seldom dared venture into the neighborhood. It overfilled dumpsters and was piled up around trashcans, slowly settling into compacted heaps fermenting each day in the sun. Bodies littered the street as well, drunk or drugged--or dead. Noise--music--spilled out of a doorway just ahead to the left. Raven stopped abruptly. This should be her destination.

The gangbangers trailing along behind Raven encircled her. They ranged in age from preteen to their early twenties. Raven didn't miss the dead eyed expressions they all wore. She'd prosecuted enough juvenile killers in her day job not to mistake youth for innocence. They'd be the perfect crowd to invite to a rape or a murder, especially if it were her own.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" one young man demanded, stepping in close. He was in his late teens. Not the gang leader, though. He was hanging back, watching as the group edged in closer.

"Oh!" Raven said brightly. "I know this one," she said, pointing at them with both hands. "The Group Monkey Dance, right?"

"Wha--who the fuck are you calling a monkey, bitch?"

"No one," Raven said. "The Group Monkey Dance refers to a social dynamic in which members of a group establish their--"

"Shut the fuck up," the kid snarled. He drew a handgun from his waistband and pointed it at Raven.

Raven snatched it away and disassembled it as she spoke, never taking her eyes off of him. She dropped the slide, receiver and magazine at his feet. He stared at her in disbelief. "Hush, I'm talking," Raven said. "They establish their status in the group by competing to inflict the most serious injuries on an outsider...right?"

The kid finally overcame his shock and lunged at Raven. She tripped him into a wall and turned to the others as he folded up on the sidewalk. She picked out the leader this time, addressing him directly.

"I'm looking for Tiny," Raven said. "You know where I can find him?"

"I know you gonna die, bitch. We're gonna fuck you, we're gonna fuck you up, and we're gonna kill you!"

"So...you don't know where Tiny is, then?"

"Fuck Tiny! And fuck you, bitch! You--"

"Non-responsive," Raven announced. "Move to strike!"--and slapped him hard across the face. He roared and leaped at her, and his gang joined him.

Soldier Boy stared down at the scene from a dilapidated roof top. He’d been searching for Raven for days, wanting to see who and what she was, and more importantly which side of the moral compass she was on. His questioning of the local gangs had led him to Freetown and Lafayette, and finally, tonight, he had found her.

Soldier Boy chuckled as he watched Raven handle the gangbangers. She scored points for the gun disassembly, the smart ass remarks and the poise she showed. All of which let her adversaries know she was calling the shots. He considered taking points off for being so public with her investigation. Soldier Boy understood what she was trying to do, but it was harder than it looked. Odds were she didn't have the chops to pull it off.

Figuring that Raven could probably use a hand whether she knew that or not, Soldier Boy resolved to join her on the street just as soon as he was done pissing off the side of the building. After a shake and a zip, he found some decent footing and took a couple of deep breaths. A smile crossed his face. He loved this job, except, of course, when he hated this job.

"Brace yourselves, boys and girls," Soldier Boy mumbled to himself. "You're about to meet a legend."

When he launched himself into the air, the ramshackle building shuddered and rumbled. That was good, it made people look up. He didn't want anyone to miss the show. He did one somersault, just for the fun of it, and landed next to the melee in a classic, perfectly executed, three point, superhero landing. He remained in that pose for a moment, then for a moment longer, and a moment longer still. Finally, with a labored grunt and a pained grimace, Soldier Boy stood up straight and rubbed his aching back.

Raven paused in mid-pummel when the building next door rumbled, creaked and groaned like it was about to collapse. A flickering glance reassured her that it still stood--for the moment--but she also caught a glimpse of a figure in primary colors flying through the air. Raven turned her attention back to her opponent. He was staring upward.

She slammed a heel into her target's chest and he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling until he stumbled over a pile of garbage and fell on his ass. The melee had paused as everyone gaped at the figure crouched in the street. Holy shit, Raven thought. She recognized that red, white and blue costume--everyone did. It's Soldier Boy. I thought he was dead.

"Son of a bitch!" Soldier Boy said. "That used to be a lot easier."

Not dead, Raven thought, watching him straighten up slowly and massage the small of his back. But definitely old. His hair and trademark mustache were gray. Not a distinguished dusting of gray at the temples, but the solid gray of age. Kept his figure, though, Raven concluded. The broad shoulders, deep chest, powerful arms and legs--those hadn't changed. Not in appearance, anyhow, but his slow recovery and his words suggested otherwise.

Soldier Boy walked around in a small circle, rolling his shoulders and working out the kinks. "Never mind me," he told the crowd. "I'm just here to observe." He walked over and casually leaned on a derelict car parked at the curb.

"As you were," Soldier Boy said.

Raven stepped forward and to her right, to seize another gangbanger by the collar of his jacket. "That's my cue," she said. She yanked him closer and raised a fist. "Where's Tiny?"

"Hey--hey! I'm Tiny. What do you want?" The voice was surprising. It sounded like Michael Jackson.

Raven turned her head. A delicate black man had stepped out of an open doorway. He was shorter than Raven, slender, and entirely unthreatening in appearance. He was dressed in an expensive but not flashy suit. Not at all the sort of person she was expecting.

"Really?" she asked. She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice, and she glanced around for confirmation. The gangbanger she was poised to hit nodded vigorously. Raven released him and he scuttled away. "You're Tiny," Raven said dubiously, turning to approach him.

He didn't back away. He didn't move at all. He didn't look angry or scared or affronted or bored. Maybe ever so faintly amused. Maybe. Raven looked him up and down for a moment, then grabbed his crotch. Tiny didn't react except to look down at her hand for a moment, then back up to meet her eyes.

"Huh," Raven said, releasing him and stepping back.

Tiny spoke at last. "What?" An emotion at last. He sounded amused.

Raven shrugged. "I dunno--I just...assumed that 'Tiny' would be a, you know, ironic nickname."

"Big enough to have you begging for more," Tiny said with a hint of a smile. "What do you want?"

"Jesus H. Christ!" Soldier Boy said. "What the hell was that? You interrogating the guy or trying to give him a puffy? You should have squeezed his grapes til they nearly popped while your hand was down there. Trust me, that would have gotten his respect."

Raven turned her head to glare at Soldier Boy. "What happened to 'I'm just here to observe'? Besides," she added, turning her attention back to Tiny. "Busting heads is always an option. But sometimes just asking nicely does the trick."

Soldier Boy chuckled and did the locking my lips and throwing away the key pantomime. He wasn't sure yet if she was cut out for being a Conquistador, but Soldier Boy was getting a kick out of the little nut case. He stood back and let Raven get back to work.

"So, Tiny--I hear you're the man to talk to about the Cartel Cocktail. 'Fess up."

Tiny made a show of looking Raven up and then down. When he finally spoke though, it wasn't to her. "So how big are we boyz...? Lil Miss Raven thinks we're important enough for a visit." His posse all jeered a bit and nodded their heads. Apparently making the radar screen of a local vigilante was something to be proud of.

Tiny gave her another smirk before leaning up against the door frame in a casual manner. "So, what's with your big man? Too scared to pay us a visit on your own?" As the delicate man waited for her reply, three of his thugs surrounded Soldier Boy. They stopped before they were within arms reach, just in case the old man had any fight left in him.

If Soldier Boy even noticed the three thugs surrounding him, he did nothing to show it. He didn't look at them, he didn't change his posture, he did nothing at all to acknowledge them. Inwardly though, he was getting them all figured out. Which one the other two looked up to, because there was always a pecking order. Which one would he kick, which one to punch, and he figured he'd play 'got your nose' with the third. Soldier Boy played a shocking and disturbing game of 'got your nose', but for the time being he did nothing about those men. His focus was on Tiny. "You talking about me? I told you I'm only here to observe. I haven't even met this pale little piece of ass yet."

As an afterthought, Soldier Boy turned to Raven. "Oh yeah, Soldier Boy. Pleased to meet you."

Raven smiled icily at Soldier Boy. For someone who was 'only here to observe' he sure ran his mouth a lot. "Charmed, I'm sure." Then she turned her attention to Tiny again. "See? There you have it, straight from the horse's--mouth."

"Besides," Raven added, putting her hands on her hips, "the day I can't handle you guys is the day I hang up my spurs. So, again I ask, where do you get the Cocktail? Fess up! It's good for your soul. And good for your body. If I have to ask a third time, you won't like how I do it."

"Eh." Tiny shrugged his shoulders as he considered her threat. "We don't mess with that sheet. That sheet messes the fuck out of you. It's like one...two...die. I might know a little something about where you could find some though. What's in it for me if I spill it?" His dark eyes sparkled with an intelligence that wasn't often found in the Needle.

"Well, I'll tell you," Raven said, putting an arm around Tiny and leading him a few steps away. Soldier Boy's gonna have a conniption over this, Raven thought. He'd no doubt prefer 'busting heads' til he got what he wanted. And that wasn't entirely off the table--but not yet.

"I could tell you that a lot fewer people will die if that stuff isn't floating around," Raven said. "But if you don't care about that, then you might do it as a favor," she said, stressing the last word just a little. "To me."

Tiny was both frail and stiff, obviously very uncomfortable with Raven's arm draped around his shoulders. "Howz about this for a favor. I tell you where you might find yourself some of that cocktail...and use keep your nose outta my turf. We can have ourselves an understanding."

Soldier Boy nodded approvingly. Raven was getting results. She knew her territory, she knew her strengths and she didn’t lose control of things when Soldier Boy interrupted. Very good. Still, she had that loner vibe. Probably not team material. Soldier Boy would report that to Ophilia Goodbody later. Maybe Raven would get an interview anyway, but Jag hoped not. Sometimes its better to have someone on the team who wasn’t actually on the team, someone who can work outside of the spotlight that comes with being on a high profile super team. Yeah, Soldier Boy could see Raven in that role.

Raven considered his counter-offer. Tiny's territory didn't extend out of the needle to the best of her knowledge. It was one of the worst--if not the worst--areas of Hudson City, but it was a tiny neighborhood. Ceding it to Tiny for as long as he was likely to survive? "Alright--assuming that your information is good, and assuming that you really aren't involved in distributing the cocktail, it's a deal. I'll stay out of your turf."

Two of the thugs surrounding Soldier Boy were fairly well mannered, threatening but not assholes about it. Very professional. The third thug on the other hand, he was trying to earn some points. He was whispering sweet trash talk in Soldier Boy’s ear. Every other motherfucking word out of his motherfucking mouth was the word motherfucker. I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker. I’m gonna skull fuck you, motherfucker. That kind of thing. It wasn’t really bothersome. Soldier Boy had gotten worse from better thugs than this one, but it was time to draw a line in the sand.

“I once dragged a man up three flights of stairs by his ball sack,” Jag said casually before turning and giving the thug his best evil grin. “Back off.” The thug backed off, but he tried to do it casually like it was his own idea. One of the other thugs stifled a laugh.

"Aaight. Aaight." Tiny practically beamed. "Now we're talking. Then I tells you this. Try shaking down the Nubians, those young guns, they can tell you where you can find some of that shite. It fucked em up pretty good when that cocktail first came out, but now they deal it. Word on da street is, there's a buy goin' down tonight. Some bad ass. Some big bad ass, supplier. Nobody and I mean nobody interrupts one of his deals. Do ya'self a favor and pick another night, but the Nubians are who ya wanna look for."

"Pick another night?" Raven asked. "Where's the fun in that?"

She stepped back, away from Tiny. "Sounds like Mr. Big is the guy I'm really looking for. I'm sure he's a bad ass, but so am I." Raven gave Tiny a crazy grin. "And if I'm wrong--well, you won't have to worry about our deal, now will you?"

Tiny shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in tune to his sing-song reply. "You is a crazy bitch."

Raven turned her head to look at Soldier Boy and the thugs around him. "Hey, Soldier Boy, you about done over there? Wanna go kick some Nubian ass, maybe find out of Mr. Big is all he's cracked up to be?"

Jag smiled and shrugged. "Why the hell not? Lead the way, boss."

Raven turned and started walking west with Soldier Boy by her side. The Nubians were mostly found in the Numbers, and that neighborhood was west of the Needle. As crime-infested cesspools, it was on a par with the Needle. Two hundred-forty blocks of mostly government-built housing projects, filled with thugs, junkies, and hard luck cases so impoverished and beaten down that they couldn't escape to even a marginally less horrific neighborhood.

It was quite a walk, but Soldier Boy didn't fly. Raven couldn't imagine him agreeing to being carried aloft. The mental image she got--of herself flying along like Superman with Soldier Boy in her arms--made her laugh. No, she couldn't see him going for that.

"So what brings you to the Needle?" Raven asked him. "Hell, what brings you to Hudson City, for that matter.

"Can't tell you much," Soldier Boy said, "but I'm working in the private sector now as kind of what you call a consultant. My client is trying to throw together a super team and asked me to check out the local hero community. You know, figure out who we invite and who we avoid like the fucking plague. That kind of thing. Hate to tell you this, but I think you're closer to the fucking plague end of that scale." Jag studied Raven to gauge her reaction.

Raven laughed. "Well--it's good to know that all that hard work cultivating my reputation as a dangerous lunatic hasn't been wasted!" She was honestly amused, but also surprised to hear that someone was trying to organize a super team. This was the first she'd heard of it.

"A super team, huh?" Raven said. "It's not like Hudson City couldn't use an enema, but...teams mean teammates and rules and meetings and bureaucracy." Raven shuddered theatrically. "I get enough of that in--" Raven closed her mouth abruptly. Time for a change of subject.

"So, are you going to be on this team, or just a consultant?"

"I'm supposed to take whatever sorry group of pretenders my client can get their hands on and whip them into shape. Superhero boot camp. I'm going to train the shit out of them," Soldier Boy said as he smiled and made a fist. "I'm not officially on the team, but I wouldn't be much of a trainer if I didn't go out in the field with the team, purely as an observer, of course. And in the course of observing, what would be the harm if I kicked a few punks in the head?"

Raven smirked a bit. Soldier Boy was certainly living up to his image."No harm at all, I'm sure," she said. "There's plenty of punks who could use a boot to the head. I've applied a few myself."

Soldier Boy gave Raven a quick up and down look. She was pretty, but Soldier Boy preferred more curves. There was also the vampire chic thing. What do you call it? Goth?

"I fucked a goth chick once," Soldier Boy said casually. "Halfway through she stands up and starts reading some real depressing poetry. Only piece of ass I ever walked out on."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Yeah..." Raven said slowly. "Thanks for sharing." They walked a few more steps. "I hate to break it to you, champ, but if she got up in the middle of fucking and started reading--emo goth girl or not--you must have been doing something seriously wrong."

"Au contraire," Soldier Boy said, butchering the pronunciation. "I was too much for her."

Raven stifled her urge to laugh, producing a strangled snort. Ooookay, she thought. De Nile ain't just a river in Egypt, I see. Well, whatever lets him sleep at night, I guess. "If you say so," she said eventually.

Soldier Boy stopped in his tracks. "The hell is that supposed to mean? Let me tell you something, little girl, there's two things in this world I do really well and that's fighting and fucking. If you ain't careful we're going to end up doing one or the other."

Raven contined a few steps before she realized Soldier Boy had stopped walking. Oh this is just too rich, she thought, grinning to herself. He's got such nice bright shiny buttons to push! That hadn't been her intention--really it hadn't! But presented with the opportunity, she wasn't sure she could resist it.

When she turned to face him, Raven made sure to present a sober expression. "'What is that supposed to mean?'" she echoed. "Just what I said," Raven continued, shrugging. "I wasn't there. If you say you were givin' her the Stars and Stripes Forever, who am I to argue?"

"I mean, I'm sure you're the bees' knees or the cat's pajamas, or whatever it is people said in the forties...." Raven hesitated for just a moment, working hard to keep a straight face. "I'm just saying that I know when I'm getting my bells rung--" and here she pointed at herself with both thumbs "--there's nothing gonna pry me out of bed til he's got nothing left to give."

Soldier Boy slowly strolled up to Raven, close enough to almost bump into her. He wanted her to see how big he was close up. From what he observed so far he didn't expect Raven to be too impressed by that, but it was still part of his shtick.

"Are you fucking with me, little girl?" Soldier Boy said in a low growl that would have made Clint Eastwood pee his pants, "because only my friends are allowed to fuck with me."

Soldier Boy loomed over Raven, tall enough--and close enough--that she had to lean back to look up at him. He could probably get a good look down the front of her dress from that vantage too, if he were so inclined. Though he seemed too annoyed at the moment to care about that. She grinned at him and raised her hand to show a tiny gap between her thumb and forefinger. "Maybe...just a little."

The older hero looked down on his younger counterpart as if he were considering whether to devour her head in one bite. Soldier Boy tried to maintain his stern grimace but he snorted out a laugh that betrayed him. He and Raven were cut from the same cloth. He had no choice but to like her. "Fine", he said as he tossled Raven's hair like she was a little kid, "you're allowed to fuck with me. Just don't abuse the privilege."