In Which Their Savior Arrives
I hope you enjoy the first (very messy) draft of Birds of Prey!
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Five years before Games of Chance...
"Sir, there's been two drug busts in Central America, the Italian museum heist was a colossal train wreck, and... do you even want me to go into our entanglements in the Middle East?"
"No, I really don't," Joe Eadley rubbed his eyes with his pudgy fingers, letting out a frustrated grunt as he slammed his fists down on his desk, staring at the terrified lieutenant with bloodshot eyes. "Alright, Morris. Crunch the numbers and tell it to me straight. What does this mean?"
The lieutenant- Morris- looked down at the clipboard in his hands where he'd written out a handful of calculations. "Our losses have exceeded our profits in almost every arena this year," he began, before coming to terms with the fact that he could no longer avoid outrightly stating the truth. "It means, sir, that you're very nearly broke."
"I figured," Joe didn't even look that angry anymore- only unimaginably tired. He leaned back in his office chair, wiping the sweat off his brow as he stared up at the ceiling in contemplative shock.
Could it be true? Had the law finally gotten the best of him? Was he, Redface Joe, ruler of Jacker Island and undisputed King of Crime, really going bankrupt? What had even gone wrong? He had been doing so well...
As Joe was in the midst of taking in the reality of his situation, a short teenage girl with obviously bleached platinum blond hair and plump lips curled into a perpetual pout burst through the door of his office. "Dad! Can I-"
"I'm going to stop you right there, princess," Joe said through gritted teeth, a hint of sarcasm making its way into the once endearing nickname. "You see, daddy's not so rich anymore, so I'm afraid that new Gucci belt or whatever you're going to ask me for is going to have to wait."
Calia Eadley's cherry-red lips turned even further down than before as she crossed her arms over her cashmere sweater. "What do you mean you're not rich anymore?"
"I mean exactly what I said!" Joe snapped.
"Speaking as the Jackers' accountant and not out of any kind of personal malice, the amount of money we could acquire from selling just one of your purses, Miss Calia, would be enough to fund a recovery- "
"How dare you suggest such a thing!?" Calia let out a dramatic gasp.
"That's it!" Joe rose violently from his desk, nearly pushing it over from the force. "You!" he pointed at Morris. "Out of my sight! Come back when you have a plan to fix this whole situation. I need money for new ammunition soon, not to mention the fortune it costs to keep this useless brat in the latest fashion! I don't know what I was thinking, letting your good-for-nothing mother spoil you like that..." he shot Calia a hateful glare.
Whipping around, Calia stormed out of the small office and down a flight of stairs to the crowded first floor of the Jacker warehouse. The base was alive with Jacked loading and unloading trucks, making accounts, and transporting prisoners. In fact, considering the amount of business the Jackers were doing, it was almost ludicrous that they weren't making money. As the only organization in the world with the capability to Jack, they could practically manufacture efficient workers and undercut pretty much anyone's prices. Calia soon found herself asking the same questions her father had been. What had gone wrong?
"Hey, Cal! Looking good today."
Calia turned around, following the sound of the voice, to see a young Jacker lieutenant leaning against a stack of empty crates. When he noticed she was looking, he cocked his head to the side, flashing a wide smile. Normally, Calia would flirt back, but something just didn't feel right. She thought back to her father's words, hot tears welling up in her eyes. Sure, her mother had spoiled her... but at least she had loved her.
She missed her so much.
"What's the matter?" the guy questioned at the sight of Calia's uncharacteristically dull expression.
"Oh, haven't you heard? Eadley's done for. Jackers are goin' broke. I'll probably be packing my stuff up and leaving for Europe before this whole operation collapses," A slightly older Jacker remarked as he cracked a groundnut in half, popping it into his mouth. "Daddy's little princess isn't so special anymore, huh? She's just like the rest of us now."
Calia turned around in disgust, her hands balling up into fists as she ran out of the Jacker base- or at least, speed-walked as fast as she could in her sparkly silver stilettos. As she emerged from the semi-dark warehouse into the blinding Southeast Asian sun, she found herself squinting and raising her hand to shield her face. When her eyes finally adjusted to the glare, she looked over her left shoulder, scrunching up her nose at what she saw.
Sitting quietly in the shade of the warehouse roof was a scrawny girl who looked a little younger than Calia. Her long, dark hair was matted to her pale, sweaty forehead and her bony legs were awkwardly positioned in a black wheelchair that barely held her immobilized body upright.
"You," Calia hissed, slowly turning around to face the girl. "Look at you. What an absolute waste of space. Every day, we feed you and clothe you, and to what end? You're useless. We ought to toss you into the sea. That would cut costs."
"You've suggested this to your father before," the girl spoke in a soft but powerful voice. "He's never complied. He seems to have some reason for keeping me alive."
"Yes, but I don't," Calia smirked. "One of these nights, I'll slit your skinny little throat."
"All for a new designer belt?" the girl raised her eyebrows in feigned surprise. "You should be able to buy that in a heartbeat. Oh, wait... money's tight in the Eadley family, isn't it? That's not something you're accustomed to. What a shame."
"How do you know that!?" Calia waddled over to the girl, her high heels making it very difficult to make her way across the island's sandy ground. She grabbed the girls shoulders, shaking her threateningly.
"... I can't feel that, you know," the girl replied calmly, not even slightly perturbed by Calia's threats. "And I know about pretty much everything that goes on here. I may not speak, but I listen."
"That's really creep- oh, hellooo Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome, I wonder who you are." Calia's attention was immediately captured by a young man in a well-tailored suit who walked pompously across the beach, briefcase in hand. He looked like the picture-perfect successful businessman... except for one thing: the ridiculous plastic mask on his face. With two eyeholes and a long, yellow caricature of a beak, it resembled a poorly drawn, cartoon version of an eagle.
Taking off her shoes and tossing them in the sand, Calia bounded over to him with a skip in her step. Several other Jackers joined her, drawing knives and guns alike as they surrounded the stranger in a semicircle.
"Hey," one of the Jackers stepped forward. "Who are you? You here to trade? If so, we're going to need to see a letter from the contact who sent you here."
"And what's with the mask, man?"
"I don't know... some gangs do weird stuff like that."
The Jackers slowly fell silent, realizing that they were the ones who had been doing the talking while the stranger remained totally silent. Clearing his throat, he began to speak in a deep but surprisingly young voice.
"No, I'm not here to trade. And I don't have a contact. I need to see Redface Joe."
A few of the Jackers exchanged looks of amusement before one of them spoke what they were all thinking. "Look, kid, Redface Joe doesn't see just anyone. We're going to need to know who you are, who sent you, and what you want with our leader."
"I was sent by no one." Calia found herself staring at the stranger as he spoke. Even though she couldn't see his face, his accent was exotic, captivating... he was probably very attractive.
"You may call me the Eagle. As for what I want with Joe- I hope for some collaboration. A little alliance, if you will."
"You want to negotiate an alliance with the Jackers?" the Jacker guffawed. "You and what army?"
"Oh, if I were you, I wouldn't laugh at me." The Eagle reached into his briefcase. "You might regret that someday."
The looks on the Jackers' faces immediately shifted when they saw what he pulled out. In his hand was an inch-thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, so crisp that they could've been printed that morning.
"Go fetch," the Eagle said simply, tossing the money up into the air. The Jackers went wild, dismantling their defensive circle around him and chasing the notes through the wind as they blew toward the sea.
So he was rich, too.
"Hi! I'm Calia Eadley," Calia approached the Eagle with a wide smile on her face, reaching out to shake his hand. "You want to see my dad? I can take you to his office, if you'd like."
"I'd like that very much," the Eagle affirmed, shaking Calia's hand before following her back toward the warehouse. As he passed the girl in the wheelchair, his eyes lingered on her for just a split second longer than normal, almost as if he was silently wondering what she was doing on the island base of one of the world's largest underground organizations.
"She a former field girl?" he asked casually as they entered the warehouse, finally out of the girl's earshot. "It's always terrible when your people are wounded in combat... but very kind of you to continue to give her a home even when she can no longer fight for you."
"What? Her? No!" Calia replied a little too enthusiastically. "She's always been that way. Useless. I don't know why my father insists on keeping her around, actually."
"Hmm," the Eagle nodded thoughtfully, pausing before he and Calia began to make their way up the stairs.
"What?" Calia asked, sensing that he was thinking something he wasn't saying.
"It's just that... I don't believe that anyone's really useless. We're all put on this planet for a purpose. It's my goal in life to make sure that as many of us realize that potential as possible," the Eagle replied.
"That's... that's kind of beautiful," Calia smiled- this time genuinely- as the Eagle knocked on the door to Redface Joe's office.
"So, I hear someone's been giving my men money?" Joe grumbled as the Eagle entered. When Joe didn't invite him to sit down in the chair across from him, he took the liberty himself. "What do you want? You look like a business type guy. Competitors been bothering you? Need someone killed? I assure you, my guys can make anything look like an accident."
"Oh, no," the Eagle chuckled. "I'm here to join the Jackers."
"...you?" Joe frowned in confusion.
"Why not? I mean, no offense, but your island isn't exactly populous."
"No, it's just... you look like a rich kid. Coming to Jacker Island dressed like that, throwing money around like it's nothing. Trust me, I'm familiar with the type. And it's not the type we usually recruit."
"That's because I'm not like your usual recruits. I'm not here because I'm hopeless. I'm not here because I have no other option. I'm here because I'm on a mission... I want to change the world, and I believe the Jackers will help me do it."
"Look, kid..." Joe shook his head, a look of mild amusement coming over his acne-covered face. "I don't know how you found this place. You shouldn't have been able to without a Jacker contact. But I'll let you go free because of all that money you gave my guys. Just go home and enjoy your li-"
"About the money... there's more where that came from." The Eagle stood up and set his briefcase on the table, pulling on the latches and opening it so that its contents were clearly visible to Redface Joe. "A lot more."
Joe's breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the lines and lines of hundred dollar bills, stacked neatly on top of each other like a neverending sea of green. Calia, who was still waiting by the door, let out a small squeal.
"You let me be a Jacker, and you get all of this. Plus, I won't tell anyone how badly you need it." Pausing to give Joe a moment to think his offer over, he added, "so am I in?"
"Kid, you're... you're crazy... you're absolutely insane," Joe let out a disbelieving laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're in... welcome to the Jackers! Wait, I can't keep calling you 'kid'... what's your name? And are you ever going to take off that stupid mask?"
"Take off the mask? Not in the foreseeable future... and you can call me the Eagle."
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