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May 12, 2013 10:45 pm Having an informant was a wonderful thing in the Fens. It made all the legwork of crime fighting a lot more bearable, even when the information came at an unexpected time. He could barely remember where he'd met the young man who had referred to himself as 'the Skeptiq'--spelling and all. He wasn't sure how he kept finding him on his patrols around the Fens, but the kid had eyes and ears everywhere, and he'd taken a particular liking to dropping clues into Clark's lap. While Clark hardly trusted the little weasel, he couldn't really complain. Yet. Today's tip: a warehouse recently bought by a local 'business' was housing a ton of illegal weaponry, and there was a huge gun buy scheduled to go down that night. Alerting the authorities wouldn't do much; constrained by legal process, Crusader could see the problem--one that he didn't share. He watched from a nearby rooftop as a white car pulled into the warehouse; as the sliding metal door went up and down to let it in, he spotted at least four men with guns, all wearing the black leather vests with the Motor City Mauler motorcycle club patches on the back. Well. Time to clock in.