This piece was originally begun by Andy Mathews and myself. Andy did not get a chance to complete it but with the help of jshowell we were able to tie up the loose ends and bring it to a conclusion.

The shimmering trail was fairly easy to pick up with thermal vision. Raphael watched from about half a mile away. She landed somewhere near LeMastre park. The Latin Dragons were going to hit members of Posse 187 there tonight. Raphael thought, Her intel must be pretty good for her to hear that.

It was a bright, sunny Tuesday morning. Raphael diSantiago checked his watch: 9AM. His cousin's hideous, burnt-orange Mercedes sat in the parking lot of the Cathedral – the former Saint Mary's of the Immaculate Conception. He had never been here when it was a holy place; he hadn't darkened the door of a church on purpose since he moved to Hudson City. Still, he had helped with the acquisition of this property.

Authored by Koslov

Dinner had been perfect, Danielle had fixed all of Raphael’s favorites. He knew that it had taken most of her energy for that. Javier’s wife – his aunt – had been sick for as long as Raphael had known her. It meant a lot to him that she had made this effort.

As tired as he knew she must be, his aunt was radiant, happy, nearly bubbly. “Next week is a big week for you.” She said touching his hand and smiling warmly. She looked to Javier, then back over to Raphael. “I’m very excited: Raphael; no: Orion, the superhero.”

Raphael nodded and tried to match her smile. He had mixed feelings about his ‘new job’. “It will be a change.” He said.

Authored by Koslov

Then

Once a year, the diSantiagos held a family picnic. If you were part of the family, you came – well mostly. Raphael was fifteen but had never been before; he was part of the family. His father’s split from his brothers was something that he did not understand. Why would they live so poorly in Miami when they could live like kings here?

He stood out here, Raphael was rough and unkempt. He tried to mingle with some of the others; but everyone seemed to know that he didn’t really belong.

He sat alone, listening to the waves crash against the dock and watching the sunset. He mostly blocked out the sound of the music and the merry-making in the background.

Authored by Koslov

Fells Point was about 50 miles south of downtown Hudson City. It was home to two things: first, it was home to the Farmlingdale Federal Corrections Institute; second, it was the best place to move contraband into or out of Hudson City. Raphael diSantiago sped the stolen car Ford down the 408, past the prison with its spotlights lighting up the night; every time he passed that place he wanted to put in “Folsom Prison Blues”.

He shoved thoughts of spending his the rest of life locked up there behind him and drove on. It was only another 15 minutes until he’d arrive at the meet.

Authored by Koslov

Serena Laurentis stood in her bedroom and surveyed the mess. She pressed the ‘end call’ button on her phone and let it fall to the floor. Her other hand loosely held a note. And, while her eyes read it for the hundredth time, her heart couldn’t get past the mess that her husband had made of their room. What was left of his clothes were strewn across the floor; the bed was unkempt – and there was evidence that someone had recently had sex there. The safe was open and all the money within was gone. Not that she really cared about money; she cared about Norman. She wanted him back.

"FUCK!!"

Luke Merriweather stood high above the streets, looking out over the city from a high-rise apartment building. He paced irritably, his lips tight, his hands clenching and unclenching. He still wore his Nemesis uniform but, as before, he'd pulled back the mask to let the night air cool him down.

Author: Koslov

Raphael smiled as he entered Massimo Ambrosini’s home. It was lavish; but he was an enemy here. Not that Massimo could afford enemies anymore. Most of his crew was gone and he was living under constant threat of someone else finishing the job that Nemesis had started.

It was a poorly kept secret that the diSantiago family had Mafia ties (but every powerful family in Hudson City was assumed to have mafia ties). The well-kept secret was that those ties were to the Morelli family. But Santoro knew where most of the bodies in the City were buried. His knowledge had made him the consigliore to the Torccone family; his knowledge made him dangerous; and it made him scared for his life.

Author: Koslov

De’Roy Harris, D-Train as he was known on the street, was nearly out of breath when he tripped and fell on the roof. Still, he had been lucky to make it up the stairs with his pants half-on. The former All-City running back felt bits of gravel bite into his knee and the hand he caught himself with. He pushed himself off the ground, scared for his life. His heart beating so loud, his breath so ragged that he didn’t notice the crunch of asphalt and gravel crunch under booted foot.

Cough. One silenced round came spitting out of the end of the vigilante’s pistol.