The Samoan Scrapper/Behind Enemy Lines

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Contents

Chapter 1: Rough Neighborhood

The bell from a buoy clanged noisily, ringing out in the salty sea air. Despite the fact it was well past noon, the sun hadn't managed to burn through the veil of clouds blocking its rays. Autumn was setting in, and a chill wind blew up from the waters of Port Oakes, seeping in through Samantha's clothes. She stood on the roof of a shabby building, looking out toward the murky bay beyond. Her mind wasn't on the weather or the less than stellar view. She was thinking back on her last words with Adrian, her boyfriend, back at Pocket D.


"Sam, don't do this! Don't go there by yourself!" he exclaimed, taking a step forward.


She shook her head emphatically, replying, "I have to do this. I have to find her, you know that."


"Then let me go with you."


"No! No, it's too dangerous."


Adrian let out a growl of frustration, raking his armored hands through his hair. Neither said anything for a span, an unsettling quiet growing between them. The throbbing, driving bass line of the dance music was ignored. Sam's eyes settled on the young man, the red lights of the 'red side' of Pocket D gleaming angrily off of Adrian's metal suit. It seemed to reflect his current mood. Finally, with a bit of a glare and an exasperated sigh, he broke the silence.


"Fine...but I'm going to get in touch with some of my contacts. Whether you think you'll need it or not, you're going to need some help over there."


Sam tilted her head curiously. She knew so little of Adrian's past, but she'd never figured that he'd have contacts in the Rogue Isles. Suspicious thoughts entered her mind, daring to be voiced. Instead, she closed her eyes and replied, "Thank you. How will I be able to find them?"


In a rather curt manner, he answered, "They'll find you."


Another awkward pause filled the air. She could tell he wasn't happy about her decision. But what choice did she have? She'd come to Paragon City in search of her mother, and though the trail now led her to the very din of villainy her mother had supposedly left behind, she couldn't give up now. She couldn't risk Adrian's safety. Sure, she was feeling more than a bit of anxiety about the affair herself, but when it came to putting her life on the line, she would do it. She couldn't say she felt the same about letting someone else do so on her behalf.


The young woman closed the distance between them. He was taller than her, so she had to tilt her head and rise on her tip toes to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.


"Stay safe, love," she said in parting. "I'll contact you when I can."


That was over 2 weeks ago, and she'd hit nothing but dead ends. For 2 weeks, she'd paraded around the Rogue Isles under the name Veiled Stryke, pretending to be one of the ilk that she so often sent packing to the Zig. She'd been told to talk to Drea the Hook and Mikey the Ear, but that had proved to be a lesson in frustration. Both of so called 'brokers' had tossed her a copy of the Rogue Isle Protector and sent her packing. How the hell was a stupid paper going to help Sam find her mother? The paper was still sitting on the rickety table in the corner of the warehouse loft she'd claimed as her own upon entering Port Oakes. Sam was beginning to second guess her decision to come here. Maybe she should've asked for help? Maybe she should've accepted Adrian's offer? Maybe she should have done a bit more researching before flying off the handle. Sure, she'd put in quite a bit of thought regarding her new identity. Valerie Hood. Age 17. Mutant runaway, turned out by her parents. A very similar sob story, shared by numerous mutants the world over. It wasn't perfect, but it was solid enough to get her by. Besides, it was only temporary.


How long would temporary be though? So far temporary seemed a pretty lengthy piece of time.


Sam's stomach growled. Considering how often she had to eat, this wasn't exactly a new experience. In order to keep up with her heightened metabolism, she had to eat frequently, or else suffer ill effects. The problem was, she had nothing to eat. She still had some money, but if this mission took too long, she would be in trouble. With a sigh, Sam pulled the bland beige hood further down to hide her face. Her gloved hand reached up and made sure the cloth mask over the lower half of her face was in place. Absently, she started to reach for the goggles she normally would be wearing, only to find yet again that they weren't there. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Sam turned away from her view of the port beyond. She gave herself a bit of a running start, and just as she was beginning to run out of roof top to traverse, she leapt. She propelled her body airborne, easily clearing the distance between the run down warehouse to another beyond it. Leaping from building to building, she made her way across Port Oakes toward a small grocery store she'd stumbled on when she'd first arrived. The store was far from clean and overpriced nearly everything in there, but the owner was decent enough. She landed hard on the pavement in front of Piccolo Grocery. She quickly made sure her hood and mask were still in place, before slipping inside. Some might've thought it strange to see someone garbed as she was, short and compact in boring beige clothing. Others might've thought she was up to no good, what with the hood and all. The portly aged man behind the counter simply didn't seem to care. He barely gave the girl a glance from behind the latest issue of The Paragon Tattler. She didn't take long, and soon she was walking out of the store with her goods in plastic bags. She'd found out to her dismay that the handles of plastic bags couldn't take the air tugging at them while she jumped around, after a few had snapped mid jump, dumping the contents out. So, with her stomach growling, she set out for 'home', walking on foot to get there.


Perhaps Sam had been lucky, but in her previous outtings she'd met little problems. The Family had tried roughing her up a bit, and had easily been dispatched. Today, however, her passing did not seem to go unnoticed. Sam didn't have any sort of sixth sense, but even the densest of people knew the sensation of being watched. Her soft brown eyes glanced around, taking in the shadowed alleys around her. She could feel their gaze, but she couldn't see where they were. She heard several soft clicks behind her, as fingers flipped the safety off of guns.


"Well well well, looks like we have someone new in the neighborhood," a male voice called out.


Sam froze in her tracks, turning enough to see who was addressing her.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter 2: Late Night Visit

Chapter 3: In Pursuit

Chapter 4: The Ambush

Chapter 5: The Enemy of My Enemy

Chapter 6: Exit Strategy

Chapter 7: Complications

Epilogue: Consequences


Return to The Samoan Scrapper

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