#2 - Out For Blüd

#2 - Out For Blüd

So where was I? Oh yeah, after Stewart paired me with Diggle, things got interesting. Training went by fast. I was done in six months. What can I say? I'm a fast study. Though I made every second of it I could torture for Diggle.

After that I went on a number of small missions. Baby's First Ops. There were the simple cleanups, picking up low level metahumans the cops or small time heroes had taken down. Some small investigations to get my feet wet. Frankly I'd done more difficult and dangerous stuff back when I was 14. Well, except that shark thing in Coast City...don't ask...

Eventually, after one of those small investigations led to Diggle and I taking down a metahuman fight ring under New York City, Stewart gave me a real case...



“So anyway Jane, when are you going to let me take you out to dinner?” Roy asked the cute brunette as she reviewed her notes on the latest metahuman criminal arrested by the D.E.O. “I know this really nice Italian restaurant that…”

“Harper!”

“Uh oh…Daddy's mad.”

Jane giggled as Roy grabbed a file off of her desk, trying to appear busy. Deputy Director John Stewart came down the hall and into the main research lab of the D.E.O. headquarters.

“You were supposed to be in my office twenty minutes ago,” Stewart growled.

“Well, I know Stew,” Roy explained in as sweet a voice as he could muster. The bastardization of his name cause one of Stewart's eyes to twitch. “But you see Jane here was having a lot of trouble analyzing the, ah, the level of T-cells in the frontal lobotomy of the latest arrest. Yeah, and I knew she could use my expert opinion.”

Jane turned to hide her smile from Stewart as she went back to her notes.

“Yes, I’m sure Dr. Hodge was very interested in your ‘expert opinion’,” Stewart said in a low, even voice. “Since you seem so willing to give it, maybe you’d like to spend the next month giving your ‘expert opinion’ to the field office in Jersey.”

“God no...not Jersey!”

“Then perhaps you can find it in yourself to be on time for your appointments in the future?”

“Uh yeah…listen Jane, I’ll catch you later. I promise once I’ve taken care of this crisis we’ll check out that Italian restaurant.”

Jane shook her head as the two men walked off. They headed down the hall and toward the elevator. When it arrived, the doors opened to reveal a frustrated Agent John Diggle.

"Don't worry," Stewart sighed. "I caught him for you."

It had become a game to Roy by this point. When they were in the field, he knew enough to be professional. For the most part, anyway. However when off duty or on base, Roy delighted in giving Diggle the slip at every opportunity. Especially when something 'important' was going on. Kept his partner on his toes.

Roy and Stewart entered the elevator. Roy offered a smile and a nod to his partner, who simply rolled his eyes. Then Stewart began going over the details.

“Over the last two months we’ve been getting reports of murders coming out of Blüdhaven..."

"You are sending me to Jersey!" Roy interrupted.

"They’ve been low key and hard to pin down. Many of the victims have been criminals. Members of varying factions in the city."

"So what makes this D.E.O. territory?" Roy asked, his tone more serious.

"The autopsys and crime scenes have signs of metahuman involvement," Stewart explained.

“Still, two months is a long time," Diggle offered. "Someone should have been on this by now.”

“You’re right. We sent Special Agent Garfield and Agent Maguire out to investigate two weeks ago. They haven't reported in for six days.”

The elevator came to a stop and the three men exited into the Armory. Scientists and technicians were all about, working on various tools and weapons designed to help deal with metahuman threats.

“I’m sending you in because the two of you have more experience with metahumans than most Agents," Stewart told them as he led them along.

That was one thing Roy had yet to needle out of Diggle. His partner had a past that he couldn't get out of him. He had the training and ability to be a Special Agent himself. Taking the hardest assignments and mixing it up directly. Instead he stayed in the background acting as more of a handler and support. It didn't make sense to Roy, but he and Diggle weren't exactly at the 'besties gossiping about the past' stage yet.

The men finally stopped at the “Arsenal”. An entire section set up for Roy’s specially designed weapons. Roy began looking through the racks of guns, bows, arrows, and various other equipment for what he might need on this mission.

“So any intel on their numbers or abilities?" Diggle asked.

“We think there are three or four. Reports point to someone with enhanced strength. There's also unusual burns on the victims consistent with electrocution."

“Well,” Roy said quietly as he looked at his boss. “I guess we’ll see just how insulated that armor I had made really is.”

"Have I let you down yet, Harper?"

Roy turned toward the ornery voice behind him. An older man in a lab coat and a cane came walking toward them. "Yeah but the first time could end with me becoming char-broiled, Doc."

Doctor Harold Quincy had taken special interest in Roy once he went on active duty. Most Special Agents asked for simple things. Guns, tasers, explosives. Roy's requests, molded after five years playing with Ollie's trick arrows, had been so unusual and yet thrilling to the sixty-two year old scientist.

"I take more pride in my work than that," Doctor Quincy grumbled as he rubbed his balding scalp. "If you died due to my shoddy workmanship, my reputation would never live it down."

"I'm so glad you have my best interest at heart," Roy said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I feel exactly the same way, Doctor," Diggle added without looking over from assembling his sidearm.

"Et tu, Dig?" Roy grabbed his chest. "The love emanating from you guys is overwhelming."

"Here Harper," Doctor Quincy grumbled, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his coat pocket. "Take these."

“Sunglasses?” Roy scoffed as he tried them on. "Do I get a neuralizer too?"

“They aren’t normal glasses. They are equipped with the finest in scanning technology. Nightvision, infrared, thermovision. They also have access to the D.E.O. archives."

“Well,” Roy mumbled, trying to hide how impressed he was. “I guess they could come in handy.”

“Look guys, I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks," Stewart explained. "Once you find out who is behind this, I want you to call in for backup. I'll have a team on standby in Blüdhaven.”

"I might have some of my own backup too," Roy mentioned off hand.

"Oh?" Diggle asked.

Picking up a compound bow, Roy pulled back on the string and tested it's strength. "I know a guy."

Stewart raised an eyebrow. "I thought you might. But this is official business, Harper. Keep this clean and by the book."

“Of course boss man," Roy smiled and slapped Stewart's shoulder. "You worry too much. Dig and I are professionals."



Roy could barely keep his lunch down as he examined the burnt corpse. The latest victim of the supposed metahumans had so much electricity pumped through him that he wasn’t even recognizable anymore. Roy wiped off the pants of his black suit as he came to his feet.

“We got DNA samples heading to the lab now for analysis,” Detective Ford of the Blüdhaven Police Department explained to Roy and Diggle. “Hopefully it will give us some clue as to who he was.”

Roy began looking over the crime scene. Another dark back alley, just like the others. It seemed to be the only pattern. The murderers weren’t sticking to a specific area or victim type. Which meant that either these were random incidents, which seemed highly unlikely, or there was a much larger picture they weren't seeing.

"You think this could be a vigilante group?" Diggle asked as he surveyed the area. "Trying to clean up the streets?"

"It's one theory. We have some experience in vigilantes, though none with a body count," Detective Ford offered. "But my gut tells me these guys aren't out for justice. The vics have ranged from high rollers in various gangs and families to low level informants. People who ain't really ever hurt anyone. Not directly anyway."

"Sounds to me like muscle moving in, or moving up," Roy said, taking the sunglasses out of his jacket and putting them on. “Did your boys already do a search of the area?”

“Yeah. Didn’t find anything that stuck out as relevant. This alley is widely used by junkies and vagrants. So many people go through here that there’s no telling who left what.”

Roy still chose to look around himself. He activated the nightvision on his glasses. The alley was covered with trash and junk. Ford was right, there was no way he could link any of this to the murder.

Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a matchbook on the ground. It wasn’t the matchbook itself that caught his attention, but the address on it.

“Detective,” he called out. “East 76th Street, that’s the Upper East Side right?”

“Yeah so?”

“Well what would vagrants and junkies be doing with a matchbook from such an expensive part of the city?”

“Psh…that’s a pretty small lead, if one at all.”

"What do you think, Dig?" Roy asked his partner, handing him the matchbook.

“Sounds like the only lead we got," Diggle agreed. "Unless your 'guy' had anything to say about it?"

Roy shook his head. "Nah he's been out of town for a bit. And busy with other crap before that. He had some ideas but no solid info."

Diggle rolled his eyes. "What kind of place is this Club Mod?"

“A pretty swanky club. High rollers, celebrities and the like. Hmm…” Ford thought to himself for a second. “Maybe it is a good lead.”

Roy started to walk toward their car. “Only one way to find out.”



Strobe lights flashed and techno music blared as Roy and Diggle entered Club Mod. The line outside was large, the cover charge even larger, but they agreed they didn’t want to alert anyone to who they were. A badge was likely to get them unwanted attention.

It took all of Roy’s concentration to focus on the job at hand. The urge to join in on the party was overwhelming. Drinks and women were flowing.

"Split up?" Diggle shouted over the raucous. Roy nodded in response.

Roy watched Diggle become engulfed by the crowd and then made his way to the bar to order a beer. For appearances only, despite his personal desires. Turning his back to the bar, he scanned the crowd for anything noteworthy. A celebrity or two littered the dance floor. This club was obviously hot stuff, but it was still Blüdhaven after all. Not exactly a Hollywood town.

“Hey…get your hands off me!”

Roy turned to see a scantily clad woman trying to push a large man off of her. The meathead looked familiar to Roy, his hair and beard both at caveman length. Probably in the NFL by the looks of him. As the woman fought harder to get away, Roy felt it necessary to intervene.

Taking a quick swig of beer to scent his breath, he walked over and wrapped an arm around the big man's shoulders. “Hey guy, I REALLY feel embarrassed asking this, but can I get your autograph?”

“Not right now man,” the jock said without looking at Roy. He flexed his shoulders and immediately Roy's arm fell off. “I’m busy.”

“Oh c’mon man, my kid brother would love it sooo much. Please!”

“I said not right now!” the jock yelled as he turned to look Roy in the eye. “I’m with my girl.”

“Really? She doesn’t seem to interested in being your ‘girl’ to me.”

Two other large men walked up behind the jock. The woman managed to slip out of his grasp and walked away as fast as she could. Roy looked at each of the three men towering over him and smiled. “Great! Can I get all your autographs?”

Roy jumped back to avoid the first punch. Then he spun out of the way of a tackle. The crowd dispersed quickly to avoid getting hurt, giving the fighters a wide berth. Roy dodged their attacks without retaliating, causing the jocks to growl in frustration even more. As the first jock was preparing to take another swing, a hand reached out from behind him and grabbed his wrist.

“You boys want to take this outside?”

The jock didn’t bother to look back, he just swung with his other hand. His eyes shot open in surprise as his fist was stopped cold in the palm of the seven-foot tall Asian woman. She didn’t flinch. Her brow creased under her punkish, bright red hair.

“Big mistake.”

A scream escaped the jock’s lips as he was slammed headfirst into the bar. His two friends came to his aid, both were sent flying across the dance floor. The woman grabbed hold of the first jock and threw him effortlessly over her shoulder. She picked up the other two, one in each hand, and headed for the door. Roy went back to the bar as the crowd erupted in claps and cheers.

The club went back to normal quickly. Roy met Diggle's gaze from across the dance floor. His partner shook his head in disappointment. Roy cracked a smile and shrugged.

After a couple minutes the Asian woman came over to stand beside him. “I don’t get it."

“Get what?”

“I get paid to watch people. To watch for trouble. I see a lot of different types and you strike me as the type who can handle himself. Why didn’t you take those losers out?”

Looking over at the voluptuous, tattooed woman, Roy gave her a lopsided grin. “Because it was much more fun to watch you do it. After all, the only powers I got are my disarming smile and irresistible charm.””

Despite herself, she returned the smile. “So what are you, short stuff? F.B.I.? C.I.A.? D.E.O.?”

“Last one,” Roy answered quickly, then thought about what she said and asked, "Wait how do you know the D.E.O.?"

“I'm not exactly your typical woman," she scoffed.

"Not at all," Roy winked.

Her purple eyes brightened as she laughed at that remark. "I got a visit from some Agent Smith or some such a couple months ago. Given the rundown. There was concern about me, but I don't go looking for trouble. I find enough here."

"I'll bet." Roy's neck was starting to hurt from looking up at her, but looking straight at his eye level would just be rude in more ways than one.

“So who’re you here for? Not me, I assume.”

“No I’m not here for you.”

“Aw shucks.” A playful frown came across her lips. “I think I might like being cuffed by you.”

“Really now?” Roy said as the possibilities danced in his mind. For the third time, three times too many in Roy’s opinion, he had to fight down his urges and focus on the case. “Maybe you can help me with who I am after.”

“Hmm," she considered. "Maybe, but off the record. Not good business to be talking to stiffs.”

Roy bristled at being called a 'stiff', but he ignored it. “I’m looking for some metahumans responsible for a number of murders. Not sure how many. One with super strength maybe. One with electricity powers. Ring any bells?”

Her pretty face fell as she turned to avoid his eyes. “Sorry, can’t help.”

“Cuz that was really believable,” Roy said. His suspicion rose quickly, especially considering how 'super' her strength was earlier. “C’mon, what does a gorgeous giantess like you have to be afraid of?”

“A lot in this case.”

Roy sighed. Checking to see if anyone was listening, he leaned in as close to her ear as he could. “Look babe, I promise no one will know you said anything. Most people don't even know about the D.E.O. And who would look at me and assume I'm legit?"

She turned to look in his eyes. Their faces were only an inch apart. “I guess you do have super powers,” she whispered. “Bertinelli. Franco Bertinelli. Rumor is they’re his. Word is he's looking to move up in the city. To the top.”

Bertinelli. Roy didn't know the name, but he was willing to bet Diggle did.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

Roy flashed another smile and then headed for the door. He stopped for a moment when she called out to him.

“If you really want to make it up to me, why don’t you come back and visit after you’re done?” she asked while leaning suggestively on the bar. “You know, if you manage to live long enough.”

“Ya know what? I think I just might do that. Name’s Roy by the way.”

“Grace. Good luck.”

-To Be Continued-