The last quarter of the year had been a whirlwind affair for those select few individuals that were chosen to be among the DiSantiago's historical endeavor to sponsor a team of superheroes in Hudson City. The city was notorious for it's high crime rate, constantly jockeying between the five top slots in the nation, and desperately in need of some semblance of organized law that worked for the citizens and not for the highest bidder. The team would be comprised of some of Hudson City's finest heroes, as well as some up and coming new comers to the crime fighting scene.

Most of the heroes had spent September and October going through the grueling interview process. At first it was random off site interviews, vague questions and lots of paperwork, conducted by people they haven't seen or heard from since. In October, those that made the initial cut, met with the team leader, Nemesis, and the DiSantiago Pharmaceutical Liaison, Ophilia DiSantiago. Then, the ones that appealed to one or both of them, went on to meet with Soldier Boy, who ran them through scenarios that would test for battle readiness.

Once each of them was accepted they were awarded with a handsome hire on bonus of fifty grand. They were also encouraged to meet with L-Rave, an exclusive designer that DiSP contracted, to consult and design a Rave Original for each of them. They were promised superior materials and design over what any of the heroes would have likely been able to manage on their own. 

The months of November and December were mostly free time for the heroes and they were instructed that the status of the team was to be kept strictly private until they were officially unveiled. It was clear that deviation from that directive could result in immediate termination. The end of the year was scattered with the occasional consultations and photo shoots, but even then everything was kept extremely low key. Everyone that they saw or spoke to was required to sign nondisclosures, and the heroes privacy was kept in the highest regard at all times. In addition, most of the heroes had no idea who else had been accepted on the team. Requests for that information were politely declined, explaining that until the official start date the roster was not guaranteed.

It was late November when the fashion consultations began with L-Rave. The designer was a darling of a man and almost as beautiful as a model. Light in the loafers for sure, but his spirit was genuinely fey in every way. He was both flattering and helpful for those that went to their consultation and promised that they would be Rave-a-Wowwed at the unveiling. He gave everyone his card and told them to call him if they thought of any little thing.

Christmas came and went, each of the soon-to-be Conquistadors celebrating it in their own way. Their future employers sent them each a gift, not much thought went into it, but it was an extravagant indulgence of desert delicacies from around the world. In addition they got a more personalized greeting card from Ophilia DiSantiago, hand written and seemingly crafted with care, mentioning at least one thing about their previous encounter to give it an extra warm sentiment. All correspondences that were sent to the heroes, came to the PO Box that was set up for each of the heroes under a shell account.

After Christmas, the date of the first official staff meeting for the Conquistadors loomed ahead of them. The details concerning the first meeting were included with the sign on bonus.

Please accept this check with our congratulations for making it through the final process of our interview process. Endorsing and cashing this check, will be your official acceptance to our team. A representative from DiSantiago Pharmaceutical, Bryon Jackson, will be sending the official packet upon confirmation of the transaction.

Your presence will be required on December 31st, 2008. Details to follow:

Time: December 31st @ noon.
Location: Saint Mary's of the Immaculate Conception Cathedral

Notes: This will be the first official team meeting, please come dressed as you feel appropriate. Formal attire or your costume will be required at the unveiling party, the evening of December 31st. Formal invitations will arrive under separate cover.

Enclosed you will find directions to the Cathedral, including two alternate entrances to help secure your secret identities.

8:00 am

The Chapel was serene and quiet as Ophilia supplicated before her lord and savior, offering to bargain her complete and utter divine intention, if only the day could go without another hitch. After the events of last night (or was it this morning), she could feel her control teetering once again on the brink. The kneeling pads served her extended presence well, so well in fact, that she finally realized that she couldn't hide for the entire day in the comfort of her pew.

It was with great reluctance and little enthusiasm that she finally stood up, bracing herself for a precious few quiet moments on the rich wood of the pew in front of her. She swallowed down the last of her reservations and felt secure that her nerves and control issues were firmly in hand, before finally making herself leave. She had a meeting with Soldier Boy at 10:30, which would no doubt raise her blood pressure a few points before the official staff meeting at noon.

"You know," came a voice behind her. "It never occured to me to think of this place as a house of worship."

Ophilia jumped a bit, startled by the sound of his voice, but it only took a moment for her to recover.  She turned slowly and shook her head slightly, a small smile on her lips.  More amused than annoyed that she'd been snuck up on again.

Nemesis stood several rows back, in full costume but with his mask pushed back off his face. He was staring upwards, towards the stained glass windows. He had a faint smile on his face.

"I suppose it doesn't hurt having the Big Guy looking in on us once in a while, though."

"It's been a while, for me.  I thought that today might be a good time to reconcile any differences that I have with the Big Guy."  She approached him slowly as she spoke, and could feel that he was battling with his own case of the jitters. 

His smile widened as he watched her approach. "I might have to do that, myself." He glanced upward quickly. "Soon."

"You ready for this?"

The smile faltered a bit as Luke ran his fingers through his hair. "As ready as I'm going to be." He shrugged apologetically. "Public speaking was never my strong suit."

She punched him playfully in the stomach.  "That's okay, you have plenty of other strong suits."

A boyish smile flickered across Luke's face. "Let's hope so," he said.

Ophilia cocked her head a bit and her tone grew more serious as she continued.  "I imagine that everyone else will be ten times more nervous than you.  Just remember that you're the guy that they need to impress.  ...and if that fails, just picture Jag naked."  The grin was back on her face again as she said that.

Luke made a face. "Things that make you go..." he shuddered. "Blegh." He shook his head, chuckling. "It's not just that," he continued, growing somber once more. "It's that I need to earn this spot, you know? I need to prove I can do this. To them, to you, to everyone watching." He smirked, shaking his head again. "If I blow this...well, Soldier Boy naked will be the least of my worries."

There was a palpable hesitation as Ophilia regarded Luke with a soft expression.  Things had been rough this past week, almost broken, but somehow they had found their way through it.  A difference of perspectives was what Nemesis had called it, a collision of worlds was how she saw it, and her brother, ...well he just thought the partnership was a really bad idea.  Phi took a step forward and placed both of her hands on his shoulders.  She had total confidence in him, and it was mirrored in her brown eyes, when he met her gaze.    

"I respect that, and I have every confidence that you'll do just that.  But it's going to take more than your welcome speech today.  They'll give you time to prove yourself."  She paused and shook her head, he always got to her the most when he showed his vulnerable side. 

The proximity to Luke, and the quiet setting descended on Phi abruptly.  She gave him a smiling shrug at her sudden discomfort and removed her hands from his shoulders, a bit too quickly.  "Besides..." she said, trying to lighten the mood.  "I have a whole folder of polls to prove it!"

Nemesis smirked. "Yeah, everything looks good on paper." He chuckled and shook his head, taking a deep breath. "I'm sure I'll be fine. I just hate thinking about it. I want it over and done with so we can be out there doing something."

His smile faltered a little. "Speaking of," he said, then paused. His brows furrowed briefly before he continued on. "Do you know what comes next? I mean, what our first move is?"

"What?"  Ophilia looked surprised by the question.  "That's your job!"  She grinned up at him.  "I mean...we are in Hudson City, so it shouldn't be too hard to find something to keep us busy." 

Nemesis chuckled and gave an acquiescent shrug.

"I've been working local angles with the HCPD, and I'm establishing a way for us to work with them on things that are out of their pay grade.  ...and I'm done planning our big unveiling party, which will give us a lot of exposure."  She shook her head, still smiling.  "Finding the bad guys...and beating them up, that's your department.  ...although, I have continued my research on the Cabal.  I don't know if that's in the direction you'll want to go, but it has been an interest of mine for some time."

The vigilante shrugged again. "I'm cool with that. I hate loose ends." He paused, considering. "Then again, that whole thing with Palmer--Avatar," he corrected, then continued. "--is one giant loose end from hell." He grinned suddenly. "No pun intended, but I guess that's literally true."

He sighed. "And then there's that Shift thing. That'll need handling." He was quiet for a long moment. "Okay, so we have a list already. And that's not even including anything the others bring to the table."

Nemesis took a deep breath. "Okay! Good, we've got a starting point." He rolled his eyes dramatically, then grinned. "That'll work. I'd rather have too much to do than not enough."

Phi shook her head in mock disapproval, but the sparkle in her eyes gave away her inherent fondness for him.  "Well, we're in the right city for that frame of mind."  She inhaled and exhaled audibly as she allowed that very real truth to settle around her, there would always more than they could possibly do.  "...well...  I guess that I'll leave you alone with the All Mighty.  ...and I'm off to handle the all mighty Jag.  I'm not sure which one is harder to get through to."

With one last fleeting smile she took her exit down the Cathedral's isle, the sway of her hips a bit more defined than usual as she departed.

11:00 am
10:30 had come and gone and, not surprisingly, Soldier Boy was late. Under other circumstances this would have irritated Ophilia DiSantiago, but today, she was almost hoping he didn't show at all. They actually maintained a fairly good rapport, even though it did tend towards a parent child relationship. Unfortunately though, when serious matters of administrative concern came up, Jag rarely cooperated with Phi's wants. The man was set in his ways and butting heads with him was an odious affair.

Jag walked into the office smelling of the training room wearing threadbare sweat pants, worn out athletic shoes, and a grey t-shirt which read 'My Give A Shit Is Broken'. He plopped himself into a chair and mopped the sweat from his brow with a towel. Jag had been spending a lot of his spare time these past few months in the training room. He claimed that he needed to be able to keep up with the new heroes as he was putting them through their paces. There was a healthier glow to him these days, and he almost never smelled of scotch any more. Almost.

Ophilia managed a thin smile as he dropped into the chair and wondered if he remembered that the inaugural staff meeting was in an hour.

"Mornin' Princess," Jag said. "What can I do you for?"

"Well...you can start by telling me that you plan on changing your clothes before the staff meeting. It's less than an hour away." Her tone was more serious than usual, but it was easy to guess that it was her nerves more than anything else.

"That's today?" Jag said with genuine surprise. "No problem. I can shower off and throw the mask on real damned quick. So, this is a pre-meeting briefing then? Is this the part where you tell me to be on my best behavior?" He laughed at the thought.

Ophilia lifted both of her hands simultaneously to rub the stress out of her forehead. Her eyes were still covered when she spoke but her voice was sweet and calm. "Yes, Jag. The team goes live today...the New Year's Eve party tonight, the unveiling." Her hands finally fell away from her face and she offered him a smile.

"I hear you, I hear you. Big day for the Conquistador's. Don't stew over it too much, Princess, things are going to go just fine, and I'm not kidding about being on my best behavior."

"I didn't know that you had a best behavior." Her tone was light as she placed her delicate hands on her desk. "There's a couple of things. There's been a last minute change to our roster, a man named Stone. I don't have a file on him...yet. Regardless, Nemesis has taken care of all the preliminaries on him. I just wanted to make sure you knew. ...and you can feel free to make him work extra hard for his stripes."

Jag had a way of sighing when he was frustrated that sounded like the growl of an angry dog. One of the running behind the scenes battles at the Cathedral during the past few months had been about Jag's role in selecting the team members. He thought he would have more input.

"Fine," Jag said. "As long has he has some kind of solid offense. We need that... and he'd better not be another damned mentalist. We're full up there."

"He's a toughy...I really don't know all of the details, but I trust Nemesis' judgment. ...and physically, I mean, from my standpoint, I mean...he's well, he'll do for PR purposes." He wasn't certain if it was her nerves or something else, but her jaw seemed a bit tight when she replied.

"We'll see," Jag answered with a shrug. "You said there was a couple things. What else you got?"

"Yes. I did." She leaned back in her chair and pushed it away from the desk a bit, the wheels gliding easily against the marble tile. "I don't want to argue, I really don't, but we have to revisit your name and your costume. I spoke to Bryon Jackson again this morning and he's exhausted our resources. The Pentagon won't release the rights to your name or costume and we've offered to pay, no traditional method is working. I'm vehemently opposed to my family using any unseemly methods in this matter, I don't want to taint the team before we get off the ground. ...and technically if they can prove damages...it's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

Jag became livid immediately. "Now you listen to me, sugar tits, we ain't having this conversation again. I've tweaked the costume as much as I'm going to, and it ought to be enough. There's about a million heroes out there wearing the flag. You don't see the Pentagon suing any of them. Do ya? Do ya?"

"AAAaaarg" In one fluid motion, Ophilia propelled herself off of her chair, sending the wheeled vessel flying back into a bookshelf. A loud crash resounded through the room as she leaned over the desk and snatched the crystal dome off of a beautiful glass red rose, sending it hurtling towards Jag. "Gawd I want to blow you up!"

Jag closed his eyes and let the crystal dome crash against his face. He has had entire buildings thrown at him. He wasn't going to worry about a bit of bric-a-brac.

It was no secret that she didn't like the pet name that he used when he was pissed, but this reaction was by far the most violent that he'd seen from the diminutive woman. "You meta men are the most confrontational pains in the ass. You ARE Soldier Boy, you aren't just another mask with a flag on his suit. You are their legacy and you've had one more mistake than they care to have remembered. You're a fresh wound waiting to happen! You stubborn old fart!"

"And this shit about my name. God damn it, Phi, I ain't going to give any fucking ground on that. That's me. It's who I am. That name is the only thing they haven't taken from me, and I'll be damned if I let them have it.";

Phi reached forward and leaned both of her hands heavily on her desk, bowing her head in frustration. As angry as she was she couldn't push away the wave of empathy that washed over her as she felt the humiliation that Jag had suffered over the years. It occured to her that she was on his team...and wondered if she was fighting on the wrong side of this issue. Just because something was law didn't make it right. The tension began to release from her rigid posture as she listened to the trainer.

Jag stood and paced anxiously. "They're bluffing anyway. No way do they want this thing to go to court. That would make them look bad, and trust me these people are sensitive about that. They're just trying to get you to blink, and, damn it all, you're playing right into their hands."

"Okay Jag. I don't know what to do. I know that you aren't going to be content at the base. You're gonna want to go on missions and observe us. If you do anything that can give them reason... Oh...fuck, this is bad business. I understand where you're coming from, I do. ...and undoubtedly you know them better than I do. What do you propose?"

"Well, I know this PR chick who don't take no for an answer," Jag said with a wink and a smile. I'd just sic her on them. We'd play up the angle about this huge government entity picking on this poor helpless senior citizen in his retirement. Trust me, Phi, I've played poker with some of these bozos. They'll fold.

Ophilia sighed heavily and lifted her head to meet Jag's gaze. Her voice was resigned and raw when she spoke again. "Fine. ...but please, please don't make me regret this. You were my choice for Trainer. My first choice, you aren't anyone's used up action figure. You're going to really mean something to this city.";

"Me? Do something you'd regret? Perish the thought," Jag said with a laugh even though he knew the joke didn't land. "Don't worry, Phi. It'll all work out. I promise."

He drifted toward the doorway. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to wash the stink off my body and the broken glass out of my hair. See you in an hour, Princess, and try to relax. You look like you're about to shit yourself."

Phi narrowed her eyes dangerously at Jag before letting them drift forlornly to the floor as she looked at the shattered remnants of the glass globe that Mason had bought her. She'd loved that bobble. The thought of Mace reminded her that he was taking her to the party tonight and the last time she had seen him, he'd looked like hell. She scribbled a note on her calendar to call him to finalize their plans, and then turned to collect her chair, deciding to leave cleaning the office for a little bit later.

"Mr. Smith.  I must once again inform you I do not release or develop any weapon technology for sale.  Your pathetic attempts to imitate a member of the United States Government do not impress or intimidate me.  Neither do your incredibly unimaginative and unsubtle threats.  Should you or any of your employees wish to discuss this in person, I would be more than happy to entertain your complaints.  Please do not send anyone of whom you are fond.
Should you wish for a demonstration of my biological research, merely send a DNA sample at any time and I will happily return a gene-linked and tailored virus sample to you guaranteed to only affect you and those with at least half of your genetic code.  Given your obvious lack of intelligence, I can only assume I would be doing the entire human race a favor by eliminating your genetic material from it.
Sincerely, Dr. Jonathon Edwards Jace III"

Jonathon sent the e-mail with a thought, then turned back to the cold-fusion reaction he was working on.  He didn't waste another thought on the terrorist who was trying to buy his weapons.  The man was obviously an incompetent idiot.  Should be become a problem, JACE would have to pay him a personal visit.  The doctor paused suddenly and smiled a small smile.  Better yet, after tomorrow, JACE's new teammates could pay him a visit.  That way he could focus on important things.  It was going to be good to be part of a team.
 

Raphael read over the note one more time, the third time in as many days, as if it might say something different this time. He looked, but it was the same. With a sigh, he laid it down on the counter and stood over it for a moment longer.

He was dressed in a navy blue oxford shirt, cuffs rolled back, tie loose around his neck, and one shirt tail untucked over rumpled, pin-striped slacks. He was as tired as he looked. He had been waiting for a feeling of anticipation. Maybe anxiety over the first meeting. Maybe excitement. For months he had been waiting for a feeling -- any feeling -- but still, on the last day: nothing.

It was just past nine AM. He still had a few hours to kill before he had to leave. He hadn't slept all night, waiting for that feeling. The blonde and brunette that still occupied his bed, they found sleep easily enough: they crashed like a couple of oversexed, coked-out whores. He wished his insomnia was a result of his nerves. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

One hand reached out angrily and balled the note into his fist before flinging it across the kitchen. It landed in the sink.

Orion or Raphael?

He wasn't off to a very good fucking start.

Tina opened her eyes to the blaring of tinny music from her old, battered alarm. Intending to hit the snooze button and go back to sleep, Tina stopped herself. Today was the day The Conquistadors were to go live and she could not afford to oversleep, even if her nightmares had once again kept her from getting any sleep. It was true the first official meeting of the team was not until noon and it was only 8:00 am but given her usual luck she did not want to take any chance of running late.

Dragging her way into the apartment's tiny bathroom Tina turned on the cold water in the shower. She needed something to wake herself up and just the thought of the cold water hitting her body was almost enough to do the job. Stepping under the cold spray, Tina had to bite back a scream as she quickly scrambled back out. In her current, sleep deprived state, she had forgotten just how badly she reacted to anything cold these days. At least, now she was awake.

After a quick shower, Tina made herself a quick breakfast and sat down to watch the soaps she had taped the day before. There was not enough time to watch all of them before she had to start getting ready but there was enough time to find out who Alex was having an affair with. Her personal choice was Stephanie but there had been hints Jasmine was the other woman. It would really be something if it turned out he had been sleeping with both of them.

Having learned both her options for Alex affair were wrong, it had been Olivia, how could she have missed that? Tina pulled out her new L-Rave costume. Should she wear this to the staff meeting or should she wear her old costume and save this one for tonight? The new one seemed far to nice for everyday use but she had been assured that was what it was intended for. She did not want to even think of how much it cost and she was to wear it as if it were a fifty dollar outfit from Sears. Tina even less wanted to think about offending her employers by not wearing it after all the trouble and expense they went to, to provide it.

Deciding to err on the side of not offending, Tina donned her new costume except for her mask and gloves. Those she carefully folded and tucked into the pocket of a small gym bag. At first she had thought to put them in her purse but she would need a place to stash her street clothes before the meeting. Normally she preferred to wears skirts but a skirt but today opted for pants and a long sleeve blouse in order to conceal her costume. Once dressed she looked herself over one last time in the mirror to make sure her costume was out of sight and headed for the elevator, groaning when she discovered it was, as usual, out of order.

Fifteen minutes before noon, having found a secluded place to make the switch to her hero identity, Heatwave stood looking at the Cathedral that was to become home to the Conquistadors. How long had it been since she had set foot inside a church? The last time she could remember entering a church was for the funeral. She had not been in one since and was not sure she wanted to be here now. But, this team was the only way she had a chance to fulfill the promise she had made and if that meant being reminded how utterly foolish she had been to believe in a God who would take the lives of four innocent children than so be it.

While she waited she looked around for the one member of the team she had all ready met, Orion. Right now she needed to see a friendly face, even if it was hidden behind a mask.

"Honey, I'm home!" Ed's voice and the slam of the door boomed off the walls of his tasteful but sterile loft. With a chuckle he dropped his gym bag and checked his hair in the mirror. As had become new habit, he stared at his reflection for a long moment; not a moment of vanity but a nervous taking of inventory.

"Idiot," he muttered. He forced his gaze to the Dobuzhinsky reproduction. Ed didn't really care for the painting itself, but he admired its perfect resemblance to the original. He though longingly of the storage space in Miami full of many other "lost" works.

He had drawn at least a dozen lines in the sand over the last few months, but today really was the point of no return. The first meeting of The Conquistadors was about an hour away. Anything other than ditching town was crazy. Edison Palmer, superhero? That scene wouldn't play.

Ed grunted and headed for the stairs that led to the sleeping area. "Wake up," he called, taking the steps two at a time. "It's a big day."

Without a glance at the bed he opened the closet. The Armani suit he'd chosen for the occasion was ready to go. He sure as hell wasn't going to be seen in public wearing L-Rave's rags. His body double could keep the costume for all he cared.

"I said it's a big day," Ed repeated. He turned back to the empty room and threw himself on the bed. Automatically his hand fumbled under the pillow. "They're giving out prizes for Best Inside Man and Biggest Sucker," he pronounced. His questing hand found its goal and pulled out his battered medallion.

"Now which am I?" he asked it. Despite the memories attached to the magical relic, it was comforting to hold it again. Ed smiled and closed his eyes. Everything would work out fine. The world would soon appreciate his true qualities. And Trinity would pay.