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It was easy to summon up the defensive posture of a street kid as she hit the sidewalk. After the last few years, it was habit rather than pretense. Stuffing her hands deep in her pockets, Robin keenly felt the absence of her backpack and meager possessions which added to the wiry tension of her body as she stopped in front of the young woman. Her grey gaze took in the van warily before she turned her suspicious attention on the woman and her paperwork. Fortunately, that would only add to the validity of her presence. No true street urchin of the Fens would trust a smiling business woman and her offer of a free lunch.

 

"How much cash?" Robin wanted to know, because its what she would have asked first had she not been here for ulterior motives. Her chin stuck out pugnaciously, "I ain't a junkie... Yeah, anonymous sounds good. I wanna do that one. I still get the food and cash if I don't give you my name, right?"

 

Robin's voice was harsh, her shoulders hunched in and defensive, an exacerbation of the habits that were still second nature. "You're not cops right? You have to say if you're a cop looking for, what'sit called. DNA."

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The woman looked slightly sad at the question eyes downcast unable to meet Robins own, "Ah yes."  she said her tone apologetic and uncomfortable with the scenario of financial boon being the draw to the medical study, "Twenty for the initial exam.  There are occasional offers for exit interviews or expanded services on a case by case basis that may carry additional compensation."  she explained quietly, "You don't need to give your name to earn the compensation and the hydration and recovery items are a standard part of the procedure."  

 

"Ah technically participants are not supposed to participate more than once a week."  the young woman explained carefully dancing around the issue, "Our instructions are to turn away repeat participants if we recognize them from the last week."  she elaborated hinting at the obvious methods to circumvent the study guidelines if an enterprising participant should wish too.  "There is no significant danger of course to more testing or we would be required to be more rigorous of course.

 

Once Robin filled out the forms the earnest young intern filed them carefully and a swarthy man in nondescript scrubs stuck a head out to call "next" inviting robin in the van.

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"Love is what separates us from monsters."

 

If Kingsnake still had eyes, he would have rolled them.  Children.  He whispered behind Woodsman while the young archer lined up his shot.  "To fight monsters, you have to become a monster.  That's what we do.  That's why we wear masks and capes, instead of badges and uniforms.  We do things the cops can't do, and things they won't do.  And the monsters we fight can smell weakness.  If you lack the fortitude to get rid of your weaknesses, then you have to bury them, as deep as you can."

 

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"Gonna put an arrow in th' wheel well when they take off. 'Sgot bear piss in't - 'n stuff that'll stain 'nuff for us t'track it if you lose da smell."

 

"I won't."

 

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Riley didn't so much as glance up from the crossbow, putting all his attention into the shot he'd lined up. Kingsnake could hear the boy's slow, regular breathing - a sniper's tactic to prevent sudden body movements from throwing off what had to be a difficult shot. This was particularly true since Woodsman had shown no sign of superhuman powers, but didn't seem to be using any gear more advanced than a strange-smelling crossbow and a hatchet that smelled of metal polish. In a slow, nearly inaudible whisper, the boy breathed in what was of all things a dry chuckle, "Yeah, I've done things cop wouldn't do, all right." 

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Robin didn't glance over her shoulder, despite the instinct to do so. She didn't know Kingsnake well - or trust the man yet - but she knew Woodsman would track her with the same intensity he gave everything. Stepping up onto the door, Robin swung into follow the orderly without saying a word and her sneakered feet were quiet. She put the effort into slowing her motions as she'd grown aware that regular meals and rest at Claremont had only heightened her abilities and she had no desire to set off any alarm bells. 

 

Robin vanished into the interior of the van, her gaze intent on the nurse as she stepped in. "So, uh, you need me to take my jacket off, I guess?" Robin wanted to know as she went to slip her jacket off and take her seat to have the requisite blood drawn. She'd have been more nervous over this part but if Claremont's tests had failed to turn up anything unusual, she doubted that this place would have the capabilities to discern the origin of her super powers. "I get the food and money after, right?"

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Kingsnake raised an eyebrow under his mask.  Smooth as silk, cold as ice.  He's not lying.  He's no weekend warrior.  The kid's seen some nasty stuff.  Good.  Maybe he won't mess this up after all...

 

He tilted his head slightly to the side.  "The kids doing the testing aren't much older than you, and they have no idea what they've gotten themselves into.  Nice false front.  That's also how these people operate.  The pawns can't betray the king if they don't know they're working for him in the first place.  Try not to hurt these ones."

 

Kingsnake lifted his head back up.  "And so far, they're taking the bait.  They look at your partner and they just see another desperate street kid."

 

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The man in scrubs introduced himself as Raul with a friendly smile and nodded as she inquired as to her jacket, "I'm good but hitting a vein through thick leather may be a bit beyond me."  He joked with a slightly flirty smile, "Have a seat and we'll get started, You'll be compensated and given something to hasten recovery after yes."  he confirmed as well as he drew up a seat next to the chair bolted to the floor of van he had indicated.  Beyond Raul a slightly older man in a lab coat sat before a complex looking machine connected to a computer he tapped away at before he passed a sealed sample kit with the same sun and wing logo as the van emblazoned upon it.

 

Raul worked with practiced efficiency stealing occasional glances at Robins sculpted arms as he unwrapped and laid out the kit for use.  "When you're ready?"  he inquired indicating one arm of the chair which was shaped to fit the arm and equipped with straps to hold a volunteer steady, they'd be unlikely to hold Robin of course should she wish to tip her hand though would have easily held the average malnourished junkie or street kid.  Once she placed her arm he tightened down the straps checking to ensure they were comfortable he warned her of a little pinch before he slid the needle into her vein with a quick practiced movement and completed his draw a moment later.  Taping a wad of sterile gauze over the site he he smiled with a quick nod though left her arm bound, "Sit tight and I'll run out and grab you snack and compensation for you."  he offered and handed off the blood sample to the Lab coated technician who wordlessly fed the vial into the machine before him and monitored the processing of her sample from his station.  She could just see some kind of alert pulsing on his screen by the reflected glow it cast upon his face as he frowned slightly at the result then tapped a quick series of keys and slowly stole a glance at Robin.

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Riley breathed in and out, in and out, in a slow rhythm that belied the nervous energy the slight young man had been radiating since Kingsnake had met him. "Good ears," he commented, shifting slightly to avoid his muscles locking up. It was possible the big man was a psychic or something too, but all the ones of those Riley had heard about on Earth-Prime floated around in capes that looked likely to get caught on the nearest tree. Unbidden, images of being stalked through the Forest Primeval by a creature that could hear his heartbeat from a mile away hammered into his mind, but Riley pushed those away. Here he was the hunter, not the hunted. "What else c'n yudo?"

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Kingsnake chuckled a bit beneath his mask.  "Like you said, good ears.  I can hear them talking in the van from up here.  And I'll be able to smell that urine tag from a way's off.  Maybe I have other powers.  Maybe I don't.  So far, you know what's relevant to the task at hand.  You know what you need to know, and nothing else.  That's how it should be.  The most valuable commodity is information.  Always has been, always will be.  You win by knowing more about your enemy than they know about you.  It's doubly important if you're not the type of costume who can ignore bullets and toss cars around like footballs.  And make no mistake: Everyone is an enemy, until they're not, and every friend is just an enemy you haven't fought yet.  You never know when someone will turn on you.  I'm not just talking about mind control and shapeshifters.  Everyone has their price, or their breaking point.  No two people see eye-to-eye on everything."

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Robin glanced down at where her arm was still strapped in place, idly wondering if she could snap the bindings if she put the effort into it. The idea of being stronger than a human wasn't something she was entirely used to and while using her physical abilities came naturally, she wasn't entirely certain what sort of upperlimits she might have. Still, her grey gaze remained level and steady, turning automatically to follow the technician around the van.

 

"Sandwich and juice. And twenty bucks," Robin reminded him, her expression unsmiling. It wasn't feigned - she wanted the food and the twenty bucks which made the entire thing easier to summon. And although she was aware that she'd set off something in his system, Robin had no fear of it turning into a conflict. No, really she was mostly grimly eager for a chance to show whoever was nabbing the homeless that these people were still protected. 

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Raul looked back as she clarified her due snacks and nodded, "You got it."  he assured her with a small wink and stepped out to fetch the requested items.  He paused to quietly ask the girl out front, "We have an address on the cutie inside?" earning himself a self righteous glare at the suggestion as she snapped, "That information is confidential Raul." and handed the snacks over with a frown, "make sure it all gets to that young woman."  she glowered and shook her head in disgust, "Men."  she sniffed.

 

Inside the technician made his way to Robins side with another injector of some kind in hand, "I'm sorry there seems to be an error we'll have to take a second sample."  he said in a clipped tone only halfway asking permission before he sat and pressed the device to her arm and depressing the plunger on the back causing more pain than Rauls more tender approach.  He took a step back afterwards and began to move toward the terminal, "I'm not supposed to do this."  he intoned quietly, "But for your trouble here."  he offered her a flyer with a code printed on it and a small map on the back, "We're conducting a random secondary interview, Participants are compensated with $100."  he explained and returned to his seat where a printout of assorted medical information was printing.  Handing it over as well as Raul returned he was once more absorbed in his terminal.  

 

Raul was all smiles as he entered the van again and freed robins arm handing her the food, payment, and printout, "Enjoy."  he said quietly and wrote a phone number on the corner, "If you're hungry for anything else later."  he suggested earning a derisive sniff from the technician.

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"If they dun take her now," said Riley warningly, his accent thickening with Robin under stress. "I'm gun shoot just 's the door shuts behind 'er. The soundll muffle't." 

 

The shrill, alien growls and shrieks of the small Feral were deafeningly loud in the young Woodsman's ears, the only sound of life in the upper tiers of the ruined house now that the Ferals down below had been defeated. Knowing that the sound could alert the Southside pack to their hunting party, Riley reached down and pulled his hatchet free from his belt, the weight of the steel blade cool in his hand. As he advanced on the creature, he breathed, "I give you the peace taken from you in life." 

 

"Yeah, man," he said suddenly in the real world, "Tha'll happen. But-" 

 

Peyton Quinn was on the podium of the meeting hall at Raymond, her fatigues and short dark hair lit by the glare of electric lights powered by the recently scavenged plutonium, gleaming rifle strapped to her back - giving the New Year's speech to the assembled population. Riley couldn't have been prouder. "When we were younger, people said we were lucky to live in Freedom City. Now we know that we're lucky to be alive. We don't need luck, though! We've always had to struggle and fight, and that's made us strong. It's made us who we are."

 

"When it's goin' down, that's when you find out who y'are. Some people find out they're bad. Some people find out they're better than they knew."  

 

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Robin took the offer from the man in stride, giving him a flat look at the flirtatious offer and not flinching as whatever-it-was was injected into her arm. "Thanks," she said shortly, taking the information that was offered and stuffing it away into her jacket, along with the offered food and cash. She banged the door open, harder than was necessary but not hard enough to do it any damage as she left the van and headed down the alleyway.

 

As soon as she rounded the corner, Robin began to shrug out of her jacket and reached down to rip the hem of her tank top off, tying it tight above the injection site. She climbed back up towards where the two men were waiting, trusting that they'd deal with whatever was necessary to mark the van, careful not to use her arm overly much in the process. As she reached the perch where Woodsman and Kingsnake waited she pulled herself up and offered shortly, "Injected something in my arm. Into the muscle, not the vein. Should probably cut it out before we track down this flier's information. Offered a hundred bucks to go do 'more tests'."

 

She explained swiftly, unaware that Kingsnake had heard the conversation in the van as she rolled up her sleeve to present the already scarred arm to Woodsman and her makeshift tourniquet. 

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"The street-level techs don't know who they're really working for.  The entire time you talked, their pulses didn't budge, and there was no change in sweat or pheremones, except for the one who wants to have sex with you.  Past this point, they're a dead-end.  Don't waste the arrow.  You, let me see the injection site."  Heh.  "See."  Old habits...  Kingsnake leaned in and sniffed at the puncture wound.  Then bent his head sideways, nearly touching his ear to it, as if he was listening to it.

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"Got it," said Riley, answering Robin's question by pulling out first his K-Bar knife - then his sterile wipes. Back home, he'd have insisted they find someone trained in the medical arts for this, but he was familiar enough with Robin's tough anatomy to know she wasn't as vulnerable as the other girls. "Put your hand flat on the brick," he suggested, "so you don't crush it." Knife in hand, he hesitated a bare moment before cutting into Robin's flesh, giving Kingsnake time to make his counteroffer, and for the words Kingsnake was saying to sink in. "Which asshole was that?" he hissed, even now not raising his voice as Kingsnake weighed in on the motivations of the people below. 

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Robin obeyed the direction from Riley, flattening her palm on the brick dutifully and holding still as Riley lowered the knife to her skin. She didn't flinch away from Kingsnake's inspection and once he'd looked at it, gave Riley a small nod to continue. When the knife bit against her skin, Robin winced but didn't jerk away. Kingsnake might not have been able to perceive the old scars on the arm she bared to Riley's blade but her heartbeat remained even and steady as Riley worked, her muscles taunt against the pain but she neither flinched nor complained as he worked. Clearly, whatever strength she possessed, she was no Centurion as the knife parted her skin with only a modicum of effort. 

 

"Doesn't matter. Got a lead," she said, the words more terse than usual. "No one gives out a hundred bucks for testing. Too good to be true and it can't be legit. Usually avoid free clinics and stuff. Can't give blood and donations if you're under age. Usually. Just asking for social workers to hustle you off."

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The acrid antiseptic scent drowned out most scent at the injection site but there was no lingering scent to indicate Robin had been drugged, under his sensitive touch the vigilante could make out a firm nodule unlikely to be natural tissue however.  This was proven accurate when Riley was able to dig the small radio tag out of her arm.  It hadn't the power to transmit long distance anyone tracking her would have to patrol the streets seeking her out.  It was placed shallowly, hastily not a long term solution, they'd likely be looking for her within a day.  

 

The flyer Robin had been given was festooned with the logo of the company on one side and a generous offer on the other with a small map and printed access code but few other instructions.  Robins intuition was not incorrect this had only the most rudimentary semblance to legitimacy though most residents of the depressed neighborhood wouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth with these kinds of rewards on offer.

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Riley used a sterile wipe to clean the wound, and put a small bandage on it. Superpowered or not, Robin was still human - and human beings got sick if they got infected through their cuts. "OK, we've got a map, we can do this," he said to the others, checking to make sure he'd reharnessed his weapons and gear. He realized he wasn't entirely sure how the big man had gotten to the Fens; it seemed pretty clear he wasn't a native, and he hadn't yet shown an ability to fly, but that was about it. 

 

"We gotta bike for the trip. Kingsnake - you gotta way a'gettin' around?"

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Kingsnake held his nose while the Woodsman cleaned the site of his impromptu surgery on Nighthawk.  The disinfectant stung his nose.  He no longer had eyes, but he still had tear ducts, and they dripped slightly behind his mask.

 

"Let me see the map."  Kingsnake took the flier, turned away from the two teens, and ran his fingertips gently across its surface, right to left, from the top down, first on one side and then the other.  He committed the map to memory, and concentrated on integrating it with the city map inside his own mind.  After he got his bearings, he turned back toward Nighthawk and handed it to her.

 

"I can make my own way.  The layout of this city lends itself well to freerunning.  You go on ahead on the bike.  I'll be close behind."

 

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The location wasn't far though in an area of the Fens possibly even worse than most with few homes or businesses still inhabited, at least legitimately.  The address in question led to a below street level entrance under a now defunct methadone clinic.  The storefront above was boarded up but a newer sign indicated it would be reopened soon under new management.  Across the street the rubble of a building destroyed in some super squabble months ago remained in place the owners having taken the insurance money and run.  A few pieces of heavy equipment remained on the site perhaps part of a city revitalization sweep but the rubble remained a conspicuous reminder of how devalued the  neighborhood was.

 

Nighthawk and Woodsman arrived only moments before Kingsnake, staying to roads and trying not to draw attention delaying them slightly compared to the acrobatic vigilante's more direct course.  The nearby streets were empty and the few buildings nearby that looked even remotely occupied contained only stores closed and securely gated for the night.  As out of the way locations to disappear the dispossessed went it was near perfect.  The comparative isolation of course also should allow the heroes ample time to observe the location unmolested should they choose.  

 

Next to the door marked with a laminated version of the  flyer without a code written upon it was a simple keypad with a red light blinking above it awaiting it seemed a legitimate code.  There was no overt signs of monitoring or security beyond the lock however the mechanism and door itself were, to those familiar with such things, much higher quality than what would be found in a defunct methadone clinic basement under normal circumstances.  To those familiar with the area however the lack of vandalism was telling.  This was either very new or somehow monitored by some sort of security force.

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Riley rode the bike into a dark alley, out of view of any cameras around the building, then he and Robin conferred about what to do next - trusting that the all-seeing Kingsnake would be able to find them. "All right, if you go in the front door with your thing, that's one of us in." Riley could have passed for a 'friend' Robin had found on the way, but that would have made all his equipment look decidedly out of place. Nobody but a superhero would dress like this in this version of Freedom City. "Mebbe call that number?" he suggested. "See if your little friend in there answers the door." He hmmed. "'Clined to just shoot anybody who answers the door and go in from there," he admitted. "'Specially with three of us." 

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Robin nodded her head in mute agreement, agitation in the lines of her body. The mounting tension to find whoever was hurting her people had gnawed at her the entire short drive. "Just gonna punch in the code. I'll hold the door." She said, the words sharp and short. Nighthawk slid off the bike, setting her helmet on the back as she headed for the door on silent feet. She didn't bother fishing the flier out of her pocket as she punched in the code and waited with ill concealed impatience. 

 

Her disappointment as the door clicked open without a face to punch was palpable before she let herself into the receptionist space, her grey-eyed gaze cutting around quickly before landing on the receptionist. 

 

"Got a flyer." Robin said as she mentally gauged how strong the bullet proof glass might be. "Said I could get a hundred bucks?" She added, not having to feign suspicion at that. 

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"They have the entrance covered from every angle" Kingsnake's gravelly voice advised from the darkness of the alley behind the teen heroes.  "More cameras than the Millennium Mall, all out of sight."  Fortunately for me, sound waves aren't as easily fooled.  "They'll see anyone who even walks down the street outside.  Alarms, too.  The roof is wired.  But the locks and alarms on the roof are standard issue, off-the-shelf, not like the Fort Knox hardware on the front door.  That's my best bet for getting in quietly."  He turned to Woodsman.  "If you're coming with me, take the long way around the block and approach from the opposite side.  Go up to the top of the building nextdoor and jump to the roof directly.  That's our best chance of finding a blind spot in the cameras."  With that, he faded back into the shadows.

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As Nighthawk made her way down the street and punched in the code Kingsnake and Woodsman crept along the ledges and eaves of the building above carefully trying to avoid the sightlines of the cameras they had spotted.  Lowering themselves quietly to the door above Kingsnake was able to make short work of the alarm system and lock gaining them entry to the abandoned storefront.  Scraps of paper and a few broken shelves littered the small area in front, an empty doorway leading to a back storage room and small empty former office stood behind the lone dilapidate counter.  Following the hallway beyond the stealthy heroes found a rough staircase leading to what had been the basement but was now the office where. Nighthawk stood.  In the conversion it appeared the contractor had cut some corners and merely drywalled over the former doorway rather than reframing the section of wall fully.  Through the thin layer of sheetrock even riley could make out muffled conversation, for Kingsnakes enhanced hearing it was as if he was in the room.

 

As Robin entered the receptionist behind the desk looked up from the solitaire game on her computer and blinked uncertainly for a moment, it seemed a rare occurrence for this office to receive visitors or perhaps it was the lateness of the hour.  Regardless after a moment she remembered her instructions and carefully assembled a short emergency contact form on a crisp new clip board which she passed through the drawer below the window, "Emergency contact information, please fill it out and have a seat."  she instructed rotely, "Do you have your flyer?"  she inquired as she punched up something on the computer before her preparing to access records most likely.

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Robin silently pulled the crumpled flier out of her pocket and thrust it out. The tension in her body fit the persona she was presenting but it had less to do with fear of the setting and far more to do with impatience. She had no doubt that Woodsman was keeping tabs on her, even if Robin lacked the ability to perceive where the men were. 

 

She took a seat and filled it out quickly with false information, her pen scratching on the paper as she added, "Is this gonna take long? I, uh, got stuff I gotta do tonight." Robin added, easily insinuating that the money was probably for drugs or worse. She thrust the filled out form back to the woman and cast her gaze towards the bulletproof glass once more. 

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