Birds of Prey #2: "Second Sanctuary"

Midway City
Every symbol etched onto the wooden walls that flanked Onyx struck a dissonant note within her. She tread slowly along the worn plank floor, closer and closer to the office door ahead as unbidden memories echoed through her thoughts.

"You're not my mother and I don't got ta listen to you!" Onyx screamed in rage as she glared at the older woman, who looked so tired, exasperated with it all, doing her best. "And you tell me I can't go out with Dezz tonight, I'm outta here!"

"Child, you don't know how good you got it," Kyla Wilton shot back and aimed a finger right at the teenager. "I'm sorry about your parents, I'm sorry I ain't got more to give you, but I do my damnest and you're just gonna get uppity, then you go out on the streets and find out just how good you got it!"

The door slammed in Kyla's face, and she heard the sounds from inside, the scrape of wood and the thump on the fire escape. She leaned against the door, sighed long and low, and realized that Onyx had done just that.

She grimaced at the screaming match in her head, still headed along the corridor, still moving toward the door as she noticed the symbol to her right. It triggered a different memory now, unbidden and unwanted, but it flooded her mind's eye.

Onyx slid her fingertips under the tab and pulled up hard, the sweet sound of her beer opening made her smile as she looked around the room. Her three friends each held a can, and a couple smoked, the sweet smell of the weed mingled with musty building and malt liquid. "Dezz is such a loser, Nyx," one of the girls said as she passed her joint to the young woman. "He couldn't even score a simple tag on Vick Street."

"Those Demonz losers are always lookin' to jump anyone, that's not Dezz's fault," Onyx defended the man as she gulped down her drink.

"D-Bomb's gonna be here and you'll see what a real player is like, sister," said the oldest of the teen-agers, then took a drag of the cigarette. "Besides, Dezz ain't no good at more then ." The other two girls giggled, as Onyx glared at the oldest one.

"What's that mean?"

"Means I had to bone him and see if he was any good as a man in other ways." She sipped her beer now and gave a wicked chuckle.

"Bitch!" Onyx screamed and leaped into her. The other two staggered over to pull Onyx away, but she continued to pummel all three now.

"Now that's hot, dawg," said D-Bomb from the door as he watched Onyx beat the three other women. The two gangsters behind him chuckled and nodded, hooted and whistled, and cheered on the catfight.

"You, girl, you're special. I got ideas already for you."

Onyx shuddered at the memory as she finally reached the door. To her, this seemed one of the longest walks she'd ever taken, as her fingers curled around the brass knob and began to twist. The antique hinge let off a low creak that jarred the echo of a louder squeal.

The tires squealed in protest as the vehicle careened around the corner. There were surprised shouts and triumphant cheers and the slapping of people's hands as the crowded passengers responded to D-Bomb's gunshot. Onyx, crammed into the backseat, stared out of the rear window at the crumpled form on the ground, and the group of people that slowly gathered around it.

"That was awesome!" D-Bomb crowed as he kissed the grip of his revolver. "Dawg never even seen it comin'!"

"That'll teach them to mess with the Curb Crew!" The man at the wheel laughed and honked his horn loudly at his words.

"Think I winged that little Dezz punk too, which just makes it too sweet," D-Bomb said with a grin as he pulled a woman onto his lap and kissed her possessively.

The car twisted around another corner and screeched from the scene, to finally get pulled into cover within a decrepit parking garage. The doors popped open and people poured out from the metal hulk.

"C'mere, babe," said one scrawny, pocked Crew to Onyx, a hand slipping around her waist. "I'm all wound up, and your gonna help wit' that!"

Onyx cracked his skull with a brutal palm strike. "No way!" She stared up at D-Bomb with angry eyes. "You killed a guy, just gunned him down, and you don't even know if he was Demonz or not, you just blew him away and who knows who else got hurt!"

"You can beat on our hoes all you want to keep yerself top bitch, but when one of the men wants you, you remember yer place!" D-Bomb growled and reached for his firearm, his own face quickly filled with rage.

"I only let who I want touch me, and that ain't anyone here!" Onyx yelled back. She trembled, hid her shakes as best she could, and knew first-hand now that the maniac running this posse would shoot her down right here and now. Her damned aunt was right, and she'd never get a chance to tell her.

"Hello, Onyx." The soft voice broke her from the haunting reverie and returned her senses to the quaint office around her. "We have important things to discuss."

The woman closed the door behind her and settled into a rickety chair. She watched the older man walk over to a kettle resting on a hot plate. "Some tea?" he offered her.

"Thanks, Josh," Onyx answered as she watched the man pour out two cups of steaming water. "What's the matter?" She was nervous, which bothered her a little. He was a quiet, retiring man, this Joshua who ran the monastery. Kind and gentle, and never a bad word for anyone, but she learned early on what everyone who passed through the Fellowship of the Full Circle learned: the quietest, calmest "I think you can do better, don't you?" from this man hammered home more thoroughly than any raised voice or display of martial prowess.

He handed her a cup and sat down next to her. "Nothing's the matter, Onyx. Nothing at all. Indeed, your progress in our humble home has been amazing. So amazing, that I think it's time you headed back out into the world, and continued your journey out there, where you are needed."

"So soon?" Onyx stared in surprise. This is what the Fellowship did, she understood that. She needed that, in fact. A place that took in damaged souls, helped them with whatever the issue was, and sent them back onto the streets, to continue their roads to redemption. But only six months, after all she'd been through, all she'd done. "I don't think I'm ready."

"No one's ready until the time comes to take that first step back out there," Joshua countered as he sipped from his tea and watched her carefully. "You've learned much, but there's only so far you can be prepared in here. Your heart doesn't belong in a monastery, washing pots, practicing script, and meditating. You excel as a warrior, and the world out there, it needs such a warrior as you can offer them."

She drained her cup and set it aside. He could see the way his words rolled around in her head, and gave a soft smile. He reached for the desk and slid a coin off of it. He handed it to her, and she stared at the strange circle of metal. Perhaps the size of a silver dollar, but with foreign symbols. "A dollar? That's all? Even prisoners get more money than that to start," she teased Joshua, to help with her nervousness.

"It's a very special coin. Keep it safe, you will need it in the days ahead," he explained. "It will provide you with a way to beard the enemy's lair, and strike down a great shadow." He leaned back in his chair and sighed with that smile of his. "You will find out its use when the time comes. With allies you will make, who will know what that's for. Don't let it clutter your head now. Now you step back out onto the World to find the other half of the Wisdom Key you seek. That half that you crave to free you fully."

"She's still out there. She's still looking for me. What if she finds me before I find the Key?" Onyx stood now, too anxious to sit any further.

"You'll do what's right, my dear. You'll do your best, and that's all anyone can ask of you." Joshua stood with her now, and walked her to the office door. He opened it up and ushered her out. "Go and pack. We have a special lunch to honor your success. So bring your appetite."

She walked a few steps from the door and glanced back to him.

She stood there like a goddess of war, swathed in blood red, black hair with its streak of white, ice blue eyes hard and tinged with eagerness. The 8th Street Curb Crew lay scattered and broken at her hands, and one of those blooded, rough hands extended toward Onyx. "You have tremendous potential, young one. Let me help you harness it for a grander cause then petty theft and pleasing the lusts of rabid dogs."

She blinked her eyes and looked at Joshua, who stood at the doorway and smiled at her, and she took a deep breath now. She nodded her head at him, affirming his decision to them both and marched off to her small room, to prepare.



"So you like movies right?" Cynthia balanced cat-like on the stepstool as she reached to put away a book, her head angled over her shoulder to look back at Halo.

"I think I used to." Halo sat at the small table that served them both as a desk. She liked to dress in as many colors as possible, Cynthia had learned already, and today was no exception. Nevada didn't have the coldest winters, but there was enough chill in the air to allow Halo to wear a bright rainbow scarf around her slim neck.

The Thunder Detective Agency was conveniently located in the midst of the bustling economic district of Platinum Flats. The sounds of the city were all around them, only muffled by the walls of the building. They were high enough up to see bits of the skyline out the window, but not so high that they couldn't still people-watch on their lunch break.

“Well, there’s this new thing I wanna go see, so, I figured if you wanted to go with me,” Cynthia smiled. She scooted her chair closer to the window and balanced her take-out food on her lap.

Halo grinned wider, still without enough control over her powers to keep herself from lighting up the room. “A thing? That sounds like fun!”

Cynthia laughed, and the pair of them looked out into the city, pointing out people who were dressed in interesting things; people set up with tables of jewelry and other goodies; people of all sorts who made their livings in the rich city.

While the two new recruits had their light-hearted fun, the meeting that Jonni Thunder attended in the next room was more serious. They couldn’t all be in the same place, but Kendra and Halo had joined forces to set up Jonni’s internet connection, and taught her how to set up her own teleconferences. Kendra was dressed somberly, a simple black sheathe hugging her athletic body, and Dawn was in her office at the Sanbourne Institute, each in separate areas of the country, each involved in their own lives, all three talking up their latest case. Jonni still thought privately that it seemed lazy, somehow, to let the computer do the work of collecting them together. But it was the next best thing to having them in the same room.

“So then. I’ve done the research that I can get to as far as it leads,” Jonni started, gathering her own papers in front of her desk. “There’s definitely a connection between Red Claw, and these Gardeners. It’s just down to finding out what it is.”

“Which hopefully shouldn’t take too long.” Kendra shuffled a few stacks of paper on her desk, and her eyes darted all over her computer screen before she huffed impatiently. “Damnit. I can’t find the file. It's one of these,” she grumbled as she hurriedly clicked through the jumble of folder icons on her desktop, which reflected the pile of papers on her real desk top. The chaos of papers only further darkened her mood as she rushed to prepare for her grandfather's funeral.

Dawn chuckled and pulled something up on her own screen. “It’s alright, I’ve got it. I’ll send it again. I’m surprised though, there wasn’t all that much in it.”

“There’s not all that much out there,” Jonni sighed. “It’s hardly recruiting. But here’s what I’ve found. The Gardeners are some kind of commune. Kind of like Amish in a way, only with New Age paganism instead of God. They've got some properties around the country, and without going around preaching and converting, they've still gathered quite a following. The leader calls herself Jenny Apple, which, for a wild guess, I think is an assumed name.” She glanced back at the other two Birds, and saw Dawn’s brow furrowed in thought. “Dawn?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s probably nothing.” Dawn put a finger to her chin, leaning her elbow harder on the desk. “Only…I knew a girl named Appel. Another Jennifer. We weren’t close or anything, but she was nice.”

“You don’t think it’s weird that a girl named Appel would try to hide by calling herself Apple?” Kendra asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dawn shrugged. “Who knows, weirder things happen. It’s not like I hide my name all that well.”

“Yeah, but you’re not trying to. And you’re not named after a fruit.”

“Ladies,” Jonni cleared her throat. “Dawn, it may be a stretch but I think it’s worth investigating.”

“Well, I’ll see if I can track her down,” Dawn smiled, already starting to type. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”

Jonni nodded. “That sounds good. Now I suppose you and I just need something to do,” she smiled at Kendra's half of the monitor before she realized that neither woman could tell who she was looking at through the webcam. Jonni cleared her throat again to cover the silence. “Kendra, have you got the file now? Any ideas?”

“Yeah, I have it.” Kendra’s eyes scanned the screen. “Well, it’s not about the Gardeners, but I’ve been hearing news about a fugitive. Hang on, I swear I took notes,” she rifled again through the papers on her desk, and pulled out a newspaper clipping. “The only name they could find was Onyx. I did a little looking of my own after I found this – there’s someone by that name who’s associated directly with Red Claw.”

“Ah, good. Another lead.” Jonni’s red lip curled. “Good work, both of you. Kendra, send me what information you’ve found, and I’ll see if I can add to it. Where is this Onyx?”

“It’s hard to tell, she’s on the run as far as I know. But the last time anyone saw her – or Claw for that matter – was in Empire City.”

Jonni ran her fingers across the computer keys, and reached to bring her telephone closer to her on the desk. “I’ll have us a flight there by morning. If you can spare the time, that is,” she added.

Kendra nodded with a stony look. “I'll fly out on my own power tonight, after...the thing, you know.”

"Are you going to be okay?" Dawn asked, concerned for her friend.

"Yeah, you don't have to be alone, we can get out there with you, if you want," Jonni added quickly, and cursed herself a bit for being oblivious to Kendra.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm not alone, and you guys have work. I'll be fine. I'll see you in Empire City, just let me know what hotel we're booked at," Kendra said.

“And you two call me if you need any help,” Dawn added, leaning forward toward the screen and pushing her long braid back over her shoulder.

“Alright, sounds good. Then I think this meeting can be adjourned. I’ll be in touch,” Jonni promised. The three of them said their goodbyes and Jonni shut her small computer, preferring the hard matter of her phone book to the instability of the internet. She’d had years of experience booking fast flights, and the plan was soon set in place. All there was to do for now was wait.



Ever since she had helped Diana, Queen of the Amazons, and Donna Troy save the world from a terrible dystopian fate, Zenobia had dealt with a number of new perspectives, ideas, emotions, but like a bloodied and true Amazon herself, never had she faced nervousness, anxiety, fear. That changed as soon as she stepped into the plain red brick building and found herself surrounded by ancient history ensconced within the old Colonial structure. It wasn't the artifacts and relics, though; it was the middle-aged woman in the professional suit and bound up hair that left her uneasy.

"Hello there," the woman called out softly as she stepped up quickly and shook hands with the warrior. "You must be Zenobia. It's a pleasure to meet you. Come on in, any friend of Diana's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you for the warm reception, Dr. Kapatelis, but I fear you overstate things," Zenobia replied as she walked alongside the professor, and walked further into the building. The climbed up the antique wooden stairs to the second floor as they spoke. "Her Majesty and I are...peers at best."

"First, call me Julia," she said to Zenobia as they entered her office. "When Diana called me to arrange this meeting, she couldn't say enough good things about you."

"She led you on then, I'm sure," Zenobia countered as she took the cup of steaming tea offered to her.

"Diana, speak anything but truth? You are kidding right? We talked a little, and I Googled you on my own," Julia said as she leaned against her desk now. "You might have started off rough, but you do good work in a hard, hard place no one else wants to touch. What's not to admire?"

Zenobia coughed a little and tried to change the topic. "I'm sure that she's told you why I'm here then?"

"Something about researching Athena, understanding her philosophy, and her teachings as the ancient Greeks understood it," Julia answered as she sipped her cup. "Not an easy question to answer."

"Her Majesty assures me that if there's any one person on the planet that can help me unravel the question, it's you, Doctor...er, Julia," Zenobia said and gave a predatory grin as she turned the tables on the professor now, and watched her blush under Diana's compliment.

"Just a second," Julia said as she heard her cell phone buzz. She looked at the caller and muttered, "We were supposed to be undisturbed." She held the phone up to her ear now and said, "Dr. Kapatelis here." She listened for a few moments, and nodded at what she heard. Zenobia could see by the subtle changes in her brow that it was important indeed. "Thanks for alerting me. Tell the campus police, and maybe the Boston PD as well." She closed her phone up and looked back at her guest. "Sorry about that."

"No problem, I understand. Is there something wrong?" Zenobia grew more alert, her body started to tense up in response to the other woman's own change in posture.

"I don't really know for sure," Julia answered honestly. She opened her phone back up and typed in a command. A picture appeared on the screen and she handed it to the warrior woman. "This man has been seen in the museum, or close by on the street and grounds, for about two weeks now. Not every single day, but security thinks that's only because he manages to keep better hidden if he keeps his distance."

Zenobia looked closely at the casually-dressed man with short-cropped black hair and beady eyes. Despite his attempts to look like any other tourist in the building, she picked out the way he kept himself tall and straight, and the way his eyes were focused. She clicked through a set of the photos, and noticed the way he looked at anything but the exhibits. Finally she handed the phone back. "And he's been spotted again today? I'm guessing by the phone call."

"You guess right, Zenobia," Julia said with a frown. "He's just entered the main door, and walking through the Lakota exhibit right now."

Zenobia stood up and swallowed the last of her hot tea in a gulp. "Would you like me to talk to this individual for you? I'd be happy to make sure there's nothing afoot."

"Um, well...that is to say, we are a museum, and for all the nice things said about you, you are a kind of rough touch...that is to say..." Julia stammered to find the right words. She noticed the way the warrior looked down into her face and shut up. Then Zenobia chuckled and smiled.

"Don't worry. I promise I won't break anything, or anyone, in the museum." With that, she turned and strode out of the office, marched down the stairs and sought out the stranger. Julia followed along at a distance, and tugged nervously on her fingers.

As she reached the gallery archway, however, she was stopped short when she saw the man quickly moving across the hall and into the next one. He seemed to be moving toward a woman, wrapped up in a simple gray coat. Alarmed as the man quickly, stealthily, moved through the crowd, like a shark slicing through the water toward his unsuspecting prey, Zenobia started to push through the same crowd, tried to close the distance.

"You were always bad at surveillance, Nichol," the other woman said now as she dashed off her coat, her right leg spinning up in a powerful arc that swept across the man's head and crumpled him to the ground. She finished her move and stood defensively, eyes on the large woman marching toward her. "You I don't know. Join up while I was out of circulation?"

Zenobia stopped short again and stared down at the woman confronting her. "I think you have the wrong idea. I'm here to save you from the villain. Clearly, that's not needed."

"Nope, I think it's needed," Onyx said as she looked past the Amazon, and at the four other men now storming into the hall after them. "If you're serious about being the hero, that is."

"I am, but I also promised my new friend Julia that I'd not do it in here," Zenobia said as she looked around quickly. "Exit's over there, let's go." She dashed for the red-lit sign and then out of the door, Onyx close by, and in the back alley found another four people waiting for them. "Oh good, now it'll seem a little less unfair," Zenobia said excitedly.

"Glad you're happy with that," Onyx said as she stopped and stood back to back with her new ally. "Nichol's an idiot, but Red Claw's guys aren't pushovers."

"I've heard of her," Zenobia muttered as she stared down the four men in front of her, each pulling out sleek machine pistols. "So you're Onyx. We'll have to talk after this." And then the Amazon charged in, bracelets flashing in the sunlight, and sparking as bullets struck. She crashed into the attackers with blinding fury. Cracking bones and grunts of pain quickly ended as she stood in the midst of the unconscious and looked back at the other woman.

She hadn't even waited for them to reach their weapons. Instead, she'd bounded forward, jump-kicked the heavy oaken exit door into the head of the last trooper and bounded back to drop the first to escape into the alley. Nunchaku appeared in her hands from the small of her back, then slammed into the temple of a third man, as her extended kick tore into the fourth man's midsection. In a whirl of black and white, the attacks were reversed, the fourth man's nose broken by the nunchuks now while the toe of her boot kicked the third man's knee-cap out of position. Zenobia clapped as Onyx stood wary and alert, and examined the human wreckage. Onyx stared at Zenobia's reaction, and slowly lowered her guard when it was clear the attackers were down for good.

"A warrior after my own heart," the Amazon said proudly. "Now, explain everything to me."



She still looked so young, despite the marks of age on her face. Even now, her face was soft, her brow smooth but for the wrinkles that time had creased into it and her brown doe-eyes closed in defiant serenity. She had been laid out on a stiff cot, bound by her wrists and ankles to its legs and stretched thin. The ropes strained and bit into her limbs, but Jenny Apple was as calm as if she were merely asleep, and beset by an unpleasant dream.

In the edges of the room, Red Claw stalked closer to her victim. The fire in her soul burned small and dangerous, a tight blue flame. Her hips curved as she walked; the white crescent of her hair tucked neatly behind her ear, and the rare one of her smile crept onto her face. She reached a hand back and smacked Jenny's calm cheek with a rough crack that opened her eyes. "Comfortable, are you?"

Jenny coughed with her dry throat and swallowed the feeling of cotton. "Quite, thank you," she said coolly, though a bruise was already flowering on her cheek.

"We'll fix that soon."

Jenny said, her voice soft but strong. "I told you you're too late. The plans were destroyed ages ago. There's no record left, no blueprints, no notes, it's all gone. And it was over a year ago. You'd be an idiot to rely on my recall, and you don't look like an idiot to me."

"Of course." Red Claw moved closer to her prisoner. "I hope you don't take me for that bad a fool. I would be so disappointed if I had overestimated you."

Finally, Jenny's lips started to fall into a frown, and her fist clenched. "You pursued me anyway."

"Because knowledge is not so easy to destroy as blueprints and books." She trailed a finger across Jenny's brow. "And the ability to tailor a viral protein shell, to aim it like a smart bomb, is not something you simply forget about. But no, I'm not going to rely on your recall, not alone."

"I won't tell you." The soft voice sped up, and Jenny tried just to keep her breath steady. "You won't know."

"By all means, I invite you to try to hold it back." With a finger pressed to the woman's temple, Red Claw continued to circle, and finally pulled away to crack her knuckles. "If I don't succeed today, I'll only try again tomorrow. And the practice would serve me well."

Jenny swallowed hard, not wanting to give this long-time enemy the satisfaction of scaring her. But Jenny wasn’t just afraid for herself. Not even for the Gardeners; so many of them willingly gave their lives to protect the world from her secrets, from their secrets, and more would if necessary. If Jenny had to be another, so be it. Better that, then have the information fall into anyone’s hands, much less this woman’s claws.

“A viral smart bomb,” Red Claw purred as she moved to a small metal cabinet on the wall. Her hands worked quickly to find the small machine, looking like hardly anything at all, a metal box and a few wires. But the way Red Claw held it, the hungry smile on her face, made Jenny shudder. “Legendary in its field. You knew that, of course. So much talk, so much excitement all around it. A way to tailor the protein shell's receptors, make it vulnerable to antibodies and medicines." She moved up to Jenny's head and almost too gently brushed the hair back. "But that's not what your government patrons saw in it, did they?"

“We were vilified. Hated, feared, when the media, the public started to learn of it,” Jenny countered. “and none of us wanted it to ever come to fruition when we realized the Pentagon had provided the grant money. It would have been madness to let them have such a process."

“You didn’t listen to the right people. It would have meant war…it would have meant victory. It still will,” she assured the captive, fingers curling around Jenny’s temples. They left a sticky, warm feeling when they retreated: an electrode fastened to either side of Jenny’s head. “Potentially the world’s most efficient, lethal bio-weapon. Able to attack any group of life, anything I want. From a species to any ethnic group down to a specific person, if I desire. I will have that process no matter what it takes. I’ve waited far too long for your little convictions to stop me now."

Jenny tried to turn and get a better look at Red Claw’s machine, to reach her hands for the heavy electrodes, but to no avail; her arms and legs were still tied down fast. “I have spent years…all of the Gardeners have devoted our lives to peace and tranquility. You can not break that peace and you will not break me!”

Red Claw only continued to smile as she flipped a switch. “Believe what you want. But I’m going to try."

The machine turned on, and despite all of her serenity, Jenny screamed. It wasn’t out of pain, although there was much of that. Some high voltage raced from one side of her skull to the other and Jenny’s body twitched without her control. But the pain wasn’t enough to break her cultivated resolve. It was the guilt. Guilt that Jennifer Appel had buried long years ago, that she had tended to and dealt with and made amends for. It had taken her so long to defuse all of the guilt of what she had created, and now it all raced back to the front of her mind, to her pounding heart, her ragged breaths, her gently-wrinkled skin now soaking with sweat.

“Excellent. It works just as Doctor Moon promised,” said Red Claw. “It ought to. I tested it on him before I took my new toy. Peeled away his resolve, and churned up the diagrams so I could build and maintain these for my own use. Didn't want to be reliant on him, after all. I knew all of that knowledge hadn’t left you. Recall is a tricky thing, but this machine, it forces those old neurons to fire, more precisely, more accurately, dragging all those memories back up in pristine order."

“Stop, stop it, please!” For the first time, Jenny started to beg. Her mouth hung open as the images, the memories, flashed before her. She saw herself through her old eyes: a young graduate throwing all of her time into the marvel of technology that she had the privilege to work on. She hadn’t known what they would use it for – Jenny Appel’s brilliant designs were for killing unnatural insects now out of control; saving crops; targeting viruses within the human body and leaving the person unharmed; for helping the world. But the government took her plans, wanted to corrupt them, turn them into weapons. She was there again in her head, the day that she found out what they planned to do, and the guilt crushed her again like a boulder on her chest.

“You can stop it, Jenny. Any time.”

“Stop!” She screamed, writhing under her restraints. “You don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know what you’ll do, you can’t!”

Red Claw frowned, and returned to a more tried and true technique. The curved blade in her hand was an old favorite companion, one that Red Claw well knew how to use. She left the machine running, Jenny already crying before the knife began to carve into her skin.

Jenny had been right, to a point. It took an unusually long time for her sobs of pain and fear to turn into words of information. But she broke, in the end, as anyone would. When Red Claw left her, drenched and shaking in the aftermath, Jenny sobbed all the more to know that the woman had the means to carry out her terrorism more efficiently than ever before, because of her.



The Empire City that greeted Jonni and Kendra the next day at the airport was pleasant enough; the closest the city had to a tourist trap, all clean streets and postcard views, impressive office buildings and the occasional theater and attraction. They had no need of this part of the city. It was when they made their way farther downtown that the city started to show other colors.

"You're so relaxed," Kendra muttered, her hands stuffed into her pockets. She'd said nothing about the day before to Jonni as they reached the ugly gray concrete and dull, cracked red brick of the real Empire City. But Kendra was clearly still hurting, and it added to the vulnerability she felt in a place like this, without her wings and her weapons. The longer they walked, the more people on the street started to watch the two women, and Kendra could feel every eye.

Jonni, on the other hand, walked on as if nothing had changed, and respected her friend's privacy as they walked in silence, her sensible heels clicking on the pavement. "I'm a private detective, Kendra. This is hardly the first time I've been a little out of place. It shouldn't bother you."

"Who says I'm bothered?" Kendra countered. "Just trying to keep my eyes open."

"Who says I'm not?" Jonni replied with a small smile.

They met Jonni's first contact in a small third-floor apartment off of a dingy side street. Jonni buzzed the right number without hesitation. The door opened readily, and Kendra's eyebrow rose. "So we're expected?"

"Of course. Bernie and I have worked together in the past," Jonni explained as they climbed the stairs. "He's been retired a good while now, but when I was just starting out, there wasn't anyone better in this city. And he's not gotten rusty just because he's been taking it easy. I called him as soon as we had the flight."

"So what you're saying is, good detectives get other, better detectives to do the hard work for them?" Kendra smirked.

Jonni kept her face perfectly even when she deadpanned, "Well you can't imagine me walking all over the Empire in these shoes, can you?"

Bernie met them with a smile, stepping aside to hold the door open for the two women. He was an older man, with white hair sprinkled over his black head, and hands dry from long years of work, but his eyes were bright and smart. "My goodness, Jonni, you know how to make an old man happy. Care to introduce me to your friend and make my day complete?"

"Kendra, this is Bernie," Jonni said with a chuckle, closing the door behind her. "Kendra just started working with me."

"Lucky for me, then." Bernie took Kendra's hand and shook it heartily.

Kendra smiled and laughed a little herself. "Terror of the underworld, aren't you?"

"Ah, I was," he nodded, and led the women to his living room to sit. "Now, I won't beat too far around the bush. You girls came at just the right time. I talked to a few people who were likely to know, and all of them are saying Onyx is on her way back home as we speak."

“How lucky is that.” Jonni crossed her ankles and sat down, pulling a file of papers out of her briefcase along with a pen. “As good a place to start as any. What can you tell us about her? Did you know her personally?”

“No, not myself. Never had the pleasure, although from what I’ve heard I might not have wanted to,” Bernie said. “Pretty fearsome character. Used to be Onyx – and that’s her real first name, mind, Onyx Adams – She was the one you’d call if you need someone to stand behind you and look threatening. Bodyguard work for the local gangs and the drug lords, nasty stuff. She was ruthless when she had to be."

“Until?” Kendra leaned forward, picking up on Bernie’s tone.

The man gave her a nod. “Until up around six months back. The last time she came home, she went to the only momma she'd known, her aunt Kyla Wilton, for all of ten minutes, said some kind of sorry, and ran back off again. Pretty distraught from what I heard. Left behind everything, colleagues, job offers. Just vanished, till a couple days back, when a few people got a head’s up she was coming back home. They told me she sounded…different. Changed.”

Jonni put the pen to her lips, taking careful, concise notes. “For the better, I hope.”

“So what about this Red Claw?” Kendra asked. “She’s the bigger problem, isn’t she?”

Bernie’s eyes flickered at the sound of the name. “Aah yes. Heard that name a lot too. See, things were changing for Onyx even before she ran off what looked like for good. Few years ago I started hearing about that Red Claw. Seems something about Onyx caught that woman’s eyes. All very quiet, very hard to find any detail. But what little I heard, Onyx got on the bad side of some Jamaican posse, but Claw got her out of it, and she became Claw’s right-hand girl. Some kind of apprentice. Next in line. I bet you anything, you find Onyx, she’ll know where to find Claw.” He reached into a drawer on his side-table now, and glanced over his list of names, places and contacts before handing it to Jonni.

“You’re a lifesaver as always, Bernie,” Jonni nodded, her smile grave. "We’ll be on our way. If Onyx is coming back, then perhaps we’ll find Red Claw sooner than we thought.”

“Had better not be too soon for me to get my mace,” Kendra muttered for only Jonni to hear.

“Here.” Jonni took a small envelope from her file, and handed it to her old colleague. “For your trouble. And don’t tell me you don’t need it, because I don’t either.”

Bernie took the check, glanced at it, and whistled. “Bless you, girl, I hope I’m in the place not to need this some day. Doing well for yourself, then?”

“I am. We are. Thank you, Bernie. When I have more time, we need to meet in better circumstances,” Jonni smiled, and stood to go. After a last quick goodbye, and both women allowing Bernie to kiss them on the cheek, she and Kendra made their way back outside, steeled to confront their villains.

Or at least, almost steeled. Kendra couldn’t help as a small chuckle finally cracked through her gloom, and teased, “Think that Mockingbird’s gonna get jealous of you giving his money to some other man?”

Elsewhere…
...the lights were dim and flickering pleasantly in the small bar. Shaded windows hid the noon sun from the intimately lit interior. Dawn Makes-Strong-Move and her old college friend sat at a small table off to the side of the place, surrounded by tinkling glasses and happy chatter. Just because she had an ulterior motive for this catch-up, Dawn had reasoned, didn’t mean it couldn’t be a relaxing business lunch. Dawn had dressed herself casually, a tight pair of jeans hugging her hips and a shirt cropped high enough to bare her midriff, although it was hidden again by a curtain of fringe along the hem. Her old friend, a bubbly blonde named Katie, sat across the table in a tube top and knee-length skirt. Both nursed sweet cocktails, talking and laughing about their old times.

“My god, I can’t believe it’s been so long,” Katie grinned, holding her glass up for the third or fourth toast of the meal. “Still feels just like yesterday. Great idea meeting up, Dawn.”

“You know how it is,” Dawn smiled back. “The more things change, the more you want to remember the way that they were.”

“Ugh, you’re so smart,” Katie pulled a joking face. “Always were. Oh god, you remember the look on Jason Bennet’s face when you beat him out for that scholarship?”

Dawn laughed. “Like yesterday,” she agreed. “He had the same one the next year when Jen Appel and her team took the lab away from him.”

“Oh my god, do not get me started on Jennifer Appel.” Katie clunked her empty glass down onto the table. Within moments, a well-trained waitress had replaced it. “Here, watch this. I’ll be right back,” Katie said, and stood up to saunter toward the restrooms.

Alone, Dawn tapped her foot on the edge of the table leg before reaching into her purse. A smaller bag was nestled inside, and several pouches tucked in that: Dawn’s medicine pouch. She had made sure to have it on hand for this meeting – nothing sinister, nothing harmful. Just an aid to help her get the information that she needed. Dawn slipped a pinch of the powder into her friend’s drink, to heighten her memory, and help retrieve the specifics that would otherwise lay forgotten.

The conversation picked back up when Katie returned from the restroom and drank another gulp of daiquiri. “So what ever happened to Jen?” Dawn asked.

“Well, you know that thing she was working on, right, that virus thing? Viral transmitter,” Katie added as the magic took effect. “It was supposed to be able to like, kill germs and bugs without hurting anything else. But I heard something about someone taking the project over for weapons, maybe it was military. I don’t know, Jennifer wouldn’t talk about it. She got all depressed for a while and then met some crazy lesbian and ran off to start a cult.” Katie shrugged.

Dawn nearly spit out her drink. “Slow down on that last bit?”

“This woman, Root...Tabitha Root, that's it,” Katie clarified. “She met Jennifer a little bit after the project fell apart and they were inseparable. She said Root said something about how perfect Jennifer would be for this Gardener thing she wanted to start. So they moved out to some farm in Nebraska and holed out in the wilderness talking hippie talk. It was all really weird and I never heard from her since.”

“That is weird,” Dawn nodded, and filed the information away in her mind for later. “Hope she’s okay.”

“A girl like her, bet she’s done fine for herself. Even if she is a cutie,” Katie smiled. Dawn brought up other old classmates and allowed the conversation to meander, and the two women spent the early afternoon reminiscing. But the fate of Jennifer Appel lingered in Dawn’s head, and her mind worked tirelessly to find the connections she needed.

And later that evening...
Cynthia Reynolds was sixteen years old, and Halo hovered around the same age, but no one would have known it to look at them tonight. The two girls were putting the finishing touches on each other; a bright splash of purple eyeshadow for Halo, a soft ribbon tied around Cindy’s long braid. They had gone shopping together that afternoon for new dresses to wear on their evening out, celebrating Cindy’s moving into the apartment on Mockingbird’s dime. Now, with matching smiles in the mirror, they were ready to go.

“I’ve never had anything like this,” Halo murmured, turning to look at the way the dark dress hugged her skin. “I can’t have…I would remember that.”

“Well this’ll be a night to remember alright,” Cindy assured her. “Gotta do something to make up for the time you forgot. I have a reservation for us at Roderigo Capalone’s, that guy from TV, it should be awesome.”

The city of Platinum Flats straddled the state line between California and Nevada. Most of it lay in California; a relaxed but vibrant business and financial district. The eastern quarter lay in Nevada, only a short leap away from the better-known Las Vegas, and shared a culture of food, fun and fast entertainment with its high-rolling sister. Two young girls, on their own, with a skies-the-limit budget, could hardly fail to have fun. The evening began at the fancy Italian restaurant, Halo excitedly ordering the most expensive dishes on principle. They sampled each other’s food, from the soup course all the way down to dessert, and left the restaurant with their dresses feeling tighter. Roderigo Capalone’s let out onto one of the city’s ritzier streets, and Cindy turned to Halo with a particularly mischievous grin, one that Kendra Saunders would have been shocked to see on the normally restrained young lady. “You up for more?”

“I couldn’t stop now,” Halo replied.

The shops around them ranged from extravagant to 'merely' beautiful. There was the massive music store, several floors tall and stuffed to the gills with enough CDs and movies for Halo to build a full library, and Cindy to add to hers. They shopped through designer clothing stores – Cindy wouldn’t let Halo protest that they had bought new gowns that same day. “You can never have too many options,” Cindy had said sagely. Halo found a magnificent abstract painting to hang in the apartment, Cindy a roomy and trendy purse studded with false gems. Both of them spent a long time gazing in the jewelry store and walked away with delicate pieces – for Cindy, a deep, clear ruby; for Halo, an opal that glimmered with all the colors of her eyes.

When they were too laden down with things to continue, the girls started for home, but it only took a few blocks of quiet before both itched to do more. “I don’t know what else is left,” Halo said when Cindy voiced the idea.

“Well…” Cindy’s grin was restless and amicably wicked. “There’s the Phantom Paradise.”

“The casino?” Halo asked. “But Jonni said I wouldn’t be old enough to go in there.”

“You sure look it,” Cindy countered. “We don’t have to gamble or anything, I just always wondered what it was like in a place like that.”

“I’m shocked,” Halo giggled. “Kendra told me you were shy.”

Cindy gave a casual shrug and coyly answered, “Then why don’t we call this working on my problem?”

Within the half hour, the girls were through the lightly-guarded front door. The bouncer asked for ID suspiciously, but Cindy's illusions and the young ladies attire soon had him mellowed out, especially with the "tip" they offered him. Cindy suspected afterwards that they would have let in a four-year-old if she’d had Mockingbird’s credit card.

Inside, the casino was breathtaking. Every smallest piece of furniture and ornamentation was kept in new condition, and the largest rooms sparkled under thousands of suspended lights. It was an impressive sight for both of them, but Halo in particular seemed positively energized by the light that bounced over shining mirrors and polished oak.

“Come on,” Cindy took Halo’s hand. “We can watch a few games. Do you know how to play?”

“Not really,” Halo replied dreamily, and let Cindy lead her over to the blackjack tables.

The tables were crowded. People hunched over their cards in varying stages of panic and paranoia. The two girls pressed their way through the other onlookers for a better view of the cards, and Cindy started to explain the rules. “This one’s real simple to start. The dealer, that guy, hands out cards, and you try to get your hand to add up to twenty-one…are you okay?” Cindy asked, realizing that Halo’s eyes weren’t focused on the table, but on a man sitting opposite them.

“Look…on his hand,” Halo whispered, her own fingers clutching Cindy’s arm. The other girl held back a gasp as she saw what had distracted Halo…

…the dull red half-moon tattooed on the man’s left hand, with smaller curves radiating out – the unmistakable mark of Red Claw.



"You have to teach me how to drive one of these!" Zenobia shouted through her helmet, and over the roar of the motorcycle.

"No problem!" Onyx shouted back as she guided the two-wheeler along the southbound highway, headed toward Empire City. I've avoided this pit for six years, and now I'm going back in for the second time in six months. Maybe you can't go home again, Joshua, but apparently, you sure as hell can visit more times then you want.

"I just don't see the need for the helmet," Zenobia said as she peered around Onyx's head, trying to see what was coming up next. "I'm very hard to hurt, you know. Even at this speed, I'd just get some scrapes and bruises at worst. I've hurt myself more than that in practices."

"It's the law," Onyx replied as she threaded the cycle off the highway now and into the crowded, gray streets of Empire. "I can't afford to be pulled over by the cops. Besides, aren't you a super-hero? You're supposed to be an example to your millions of admirers!"

"You appear to have me confused with my Amazonian sister," Zenobia shot back. "My Wonder Woman was more in the vein 'don't make her angry; you wouldn't like her when she's angry.' I'm quite happy not to be a paragon to millions and have plastic dolls made of me."

"Got it," Onyx said as she turned a corner and headed into the worst slums of Empire City now, each tagged cracked wall and boarded window, every rusted street light, and all the broken streets bringing back those memories again. She just bit her lip and ignored it, focused on the mission at hand. She had a mission at hand now, and that made her feel confident. In seeking out the other half of the Wisdom Key, she'd gone to Boston, and the borrowed Athena exhibit; she'd figured a goddess of wisdom and battle would be a perfect place to seek out answers for a woman like herself.

Instead, she was ambushed by the Red Claw and made an ally of the huge woman who hugged her waist all the way from Boston to the Empire. Only now, as she let herself really ponder this chain of events, did she notice that maybe Zenobia hugged a little tightly for a super-strong woman unafraid of a motorcycle. I've heard all the buzz about Amazons, maybe it's true, she mused. That didn't matter to her. Thanks to Zenobia's willingness to stop a woman like Red Claw, Onyx could take the offensive, and be free of her past. Live up to Joshua's teachings, to the purpose of the Fellowship that had saved her. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and she let her smile slowly creep to the surface for the first time in a very long time.

"This is the place?" Zenobia asked as Onyx brought the motorcycle to a stop at the turn onto a narrow, trash-strewn lane.

"Down the road, the boarded up pawn shop," Onyx said as she pulled her helmet off and let her black ringlets spill out from underneath. She reached into the cycle's bags and hooked on her weapons belt, and clipped her cape into place. Zenobia always thrilled to the sight of a warrior donning his or her garb, and this time was no different. She also put her helmet to the side, and stretched her limbs and arched her back. It had been a long ride, even for someone like herself. "I'm just parking our ride here because it's noisy, and there ain't much traffic down this way."

"Makes perfect sense. Does it really seem that likely that Red Claw would still use this haven to operate out of, if it's been compromised?" Zenobia asked as the pair carefully crept forward, using the evening shadows to skulk in. She wished she hadn't had to leave her spear back in her African compound, but she learned the hard way how hard it was to travel commercially with it. So instead, it was fisticuffs, and that wasn't so bad, she thought.

"Claw's organization is small. She makes decent money off her work, but she can't afford to just drop resources willy-nilly," Onyx explained as they reached the side of the decrepit, dusty building. "Besides, the only compromise is really me, and if she's got people in the area, she'll know I'd track back here to try and find a lead. Dollars to donuts, she's got a trap inside for me."

"Logical planning," Zenobia agreed as they stopped at the rear entrance. "Shall I knock?"

Onyx stood to one side and offered her new friend access. Zenobia punched the door into splinters and the two women charged in, ready for a battle. Instead, only choking dust and clinging cobwebs met their attack. Silence eerily folded them up, as they started to warily pace the room, in search of any signs of the enemy. There were two floors above, and a basement; the women had prepared for the floor plan based on Onyx's memories. With a silent signal from Zenobia, the two women parted to further explore the vacant building, each having a sense of dread building up inside them.

Elsewhere...
...Red Claw leaned back in her overstuffed leather chair, feet propped up on her desk, and a specially oiled cloth carefully cleaning away the hooked metal blade she'd been using the last couple of days on her VIP two rooms away. The Bluetooth earpiece buzzed in her ear as she made her call.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation, Boston Office, thank you for calling the Homeland Security tip line, how can I help you?" the voice answered after several rings.

"Thank goodness I reached you," Red Claw said in an impeccable Cape Cod accent. "I've seen one of those terrible terrorist people that's been killin' those Gahden cultists, she's busted into a closed up ol' shop down here in Empire City, and she's got a big, big mean-looking woman wit' her, and I'm so scared."

"It's okay, ma'am. Just calm down, and give me the address and any other details you might have, and we'll have it checked out immediately." The call center worker immediately signaled her supervisor, and he immediately began to place a call to the Special Agent in Charge, as they received their first major break in the Red Claw case. In minutes, State Police and FBI agents were assembling to converge on the old pawn shop in the Empire.

Red Claw hung up and tossed her earpiece casually onto the desk, then walked out of her office, humming a jaunty tune and admiring the sheen on her favorite torturing blade.