Blüdhaven. Widely considered to be one of, if not the, most corrupt cities in the USA.  Gotham might be home to thieves, murderers and psychos and Hub City goes through a societal collapse about once a week, but neither can quite compare with Blüdhaven.  The city has been the site of several gang wars and riots, suffered a devastating chemical attack and has had the unique distinction of being the site of Darkseid's factory of evil.  Any one of those things could have spelled the end for any other place, but not for Blüdhaven.  Blüdhaven  merely accepted them as bumps in the road.  It has managed to pull itself back from the brink of obliteration time and time again.  Somehow this pit of a city just refuses to stay down, instead remaining in an almost constant state of decay.  

Magnus kept his head down as he strode the cities streets, a fierce scowl fixed on his face, hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets to conceal his tightly clenched fists. He hated cities, hated the stink and the noise and the [b]overwhelming[/b] press of concrete all around him. And this was only the docks! It near filled him with dread to imagine how bad down town was. Star City had been bad enough, but at least it had some respect for the forests that man so selfishly abused. Here they had no respect for anything save power.  He had only come outside to snatch a breath of fresh air after what seemed like hours of work, but it would be a desperate man indeed who referred to the air in Blüdhaven as [i]fresh[/i].  The only upside to this place was that it served to keep him focused on the task at hand.  He could hardly forget about the corruption he  meant to combat when he lived in a place so immersed in it. 

Still, as silver linings go that one was pretty thin.

He stopped in front of the former Dixon brothers whaling and shipping[url=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7c/Industrial_Loft_Building_Dry_Dock_Engine_Works_2009.jpg]building[/url].  Technically it had actually been used for ship building, boasting an impressive internal dry dock, rather than either of its advertised occupations.  When the bottom of the whaling industry had fallen through there had been little need for shipbuilding in Blüdhaven , and the Dixon brothers had been forced to close.  It had remained empty for almost three decades after that, until finally becoming home to the dishonest citizens taking part in their favorite pastime; organised crime.  During this time the Dixon building earned itself a new name, the Hub, due to the popular opinion that there wasn't an ounce of drugs that entered Blüdhaven that didn't eventually pass through the Dixon brothers building's doors.  The gang boss Blockbuster even used it as a central base of his operations for a time, though it fell into disuse once more when he was killed by the vigilante Tarantula.  It then went on to survive the various calamities suffered by the city, showing a stubborn willingness to keep on standing that made the Hub look nigh on invincible.   

Magnus had deemed it the perfect place to house his new team.  It had taken the knocks and the scrapes, all the accumulated shit that life could throw at it and yet was still looking forward to a better tomorrow, which was a description he felt could also be applied to each and every member of the Outsiders.  He hoped the new team would appreciate the symbolism.  If not, then who cared? It was still a roof over their heads.   

It was much more than just a roof though.  Fenrir, Hawkman, Batman and a few select others deemed worthy to be let into the secret of the Outsiders had spent the best part of six months readying the Hub for its new purpose.  The walls, ceilings and floors had been reinforced to the point that even Superman would struggle to punch his way in.  The building itself and the streets surrounding it had been outfitted with the most cutting edge surveillance equipment available to man.  If a fly buzzed around an over-filled bin five blocks away then the Outsiders could observe it.   This goes hand in hand with the extensive security systems, including motion sensors and silent alarms. 

Magnus spent a few moments checking he wasn't being watched before entering (Even with all their security it always paid to be careful)  He swiped his key card in front of a hidden sensor, posed for a retinal scan, then watched as a key pad folded out from behind  a sign next to the door that had read 'to let'.  He typed in his eight digit code, then finally spoke his authorization phrase.  

"Open up, or I'll huff and I'll puff and blow your house down."  An automated voice announced that his phrase was accepted while he scowled as the door opened.  The phrase had been Carter Hall's bad idea of a joke, and Magnus was yet to figure out how to change it.  He pushed his way in, pulling the door closed behind him.  

He passed the training, common and living areas, skirted the hangar, making his way towards the [url=http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2014/193/a/f/dr_rem_s_secret_lab___control_room_by_freemind93-d7bt708.jpg]control room[/url]. It was here, bathed in the cold glare of strip lights and unblinking computer monitors, that he found he was spending more and more of his time, whether he liked it or not.  Pre-empting supervillains and terror attacks was a much more research heavy job than he had initially thought.  The supercomputer in front of him, based on the one found in the League watchtower and connected to an array of satellites around the globe, collected what would equate to tonnes of data snippets every hour, all related to known or suspected super-villain plots and schemes.  However it was then down to Fenrir to sift through the disjointed mess, trying to find leads and connections that might give them an edge, to discover the clarity in the chaos. Clarity that he was becoming more and more convinced simply didn't exist.  

He sat at his desk and spent the next hour vainly searching for something that might be even vaguely useful, but came up empty.  A low growl sounded at the back of his throat, his irritation building into something hotter and more tangible.  He wasn't suited to this kind of work, of that there was no doubt.  He was a hunter and a warrior.  He could track the canniest quarry or beat a powerful foes senseless, but this kind of disjointed puzzle solving was a enemy he just could not conquer.  Not for the first time he considered calling Hawkman and informing him the League had picked the wrong man for this job.  

Just as he thought this the main screen beeped several times, indicating an incoming transmission.  Magnus looked up in pleased surprise, happy to have any excuse to avoid returning to his research, before opening the call.  A grim looking Hawkman came into focus, the background showing that he must be serving monitor duty on the watchtower.  It helped calm the Wolfman's mood just to see his former mentor, even if it was through a computer screen and looking like he was ready to drop bad news.

"Fenrir, we have a situation." Hawkman began, no preamble.  Magnus grunted something non-committal.  There was always some sort of situation.  

"The Royal Flush Gang are on the move." The Thangarian continued.  The current Royal Flush Gang was the third to carry the name, though they were quickly proving themselves to be the most dangerous.  While the first two RFG's had contented themselves with robbing banks and clashing with the Justice League, this latest incarnation had an entirely different MO.  They were actively hunting down, torturing and finally killing infamous super-villains, while somehow managing to avoid the League.  So far they'd killed the Mad Hatter, Metallo and, strangely enough, Professor Amos Fortune, the original King.  

"This time they're really trying their hands. Intelligence suggests their target  is none other than Lex Luthor."  Magnus arched a brow at that.  Seems the Royal Flush Gang were feeling pretty confident in their abilities if they imagined themselves ready to take down Luthor.  Compared to Jarvis Tetch or John Corben he was a whole different level, a more dangerous prey altogether.   

The fact that Lex was the head of a multi-billion dollar company and not serving a jail sentence was testament to that.  For years he had served as a unseen antagonist to the Justice League, Superman in particular.  He proved himself a master manipulator, maneuvering lesser villains and threats to distract the League from his larger plans and goals, all the while using his company to present the image of a well meaning philanthropist to the American public.  Despite having suspicions of his foul play the authorities and the League couldn't move against him due to a complete lack of evidence and the good will he had cultivated with those unaware of his more sinister agendas. 

He was arguably the most successful villain in history, but his ego eventually became his undoing.  It ate away at him, masterminding all these schemes and ploys that the vast majority of the world would never know about, never attribute to him.  He felt they should respect him for his genius, even if it was that very intelligence that stopped them ever finding out about his successes.  His plans became ever more overt as the self-proclaimed smartest man in the world began to fall for the same pitfalls that befell every two bit crook with a flair for theatrics.  He got cocky. He formed the Legion of Doom, a villainous counterpart to the Justice League then placed outrageous bounties upon Superman's head, directly confronting the heroes for the first time.  Things finally came to a head when he joined forces with the space conqueror Brainiac in a bid to conquer the earth.  The two were thwarted, Brainiac being banished to deep space to lick his wounds and Luthor finally being caught with his hands dirty.   

He was brought before the world court to face judgement for his crimes, Superman certain that his old foe would finally get what he deserved.  Even here though, with the decks stacked against him, Luthor proved himself to be possessed of a fiercer intelligence than any mere man deserved.  He played up his earlier humanitarian efforts, while claiming that he had been under Brainiac's control.  He then delivered convincing evidence that Superman had been unreasonably persecuting him for the best part of a decade.  A world that had recently suffered at the hands of a hostile alien presence was only too willing to take Luthor's side against the Kryptonian.  The prosecution began losing popular support as Luthor's sympathizers grew in number.  The trial ended on a controversial note when Lex's punishment amounted to little more than a fine.  An unbelievably hefty fine, but a fine nonetheless, a penance made all the more laughable when Luthor managed recoup his losses in record time by buying up property made near worthless after Brainiac's attack and selling it on for extortionate profits.     

Though many were blind to Luthor's faults the hero community, Fenrir among them, knew him for what he truly was.  Perhaps it would be better just to let the billionaire battle it out with the Royal Flush Gang.  Regardless of the outcome the world would be a safer place for it.  Perhaps his savage nature was becoming too predictable as Carter seemed to read his mind.

“I know what your thinking, and I can't say I disagree, but Superman insists we intercede.”  Said the Leaguer, before dropping into a passable impression of Supe's Midwestern droll.  “Its not for us to play judge, jury and executioner.”  Magnus's face broke into the slightest of grins. 

“The thing is the League really shouldn't act on this information.  We're on thin ice after that thing with Clara Kendall,” that drew a snort of derision from the Wolfman.  That was an understatement if he had ever heard one.  “And with Luthor's penchant for manipulating public opinion we just can't take the chance of him managing to turn our attempted rescue into something sinister.  He'd probably get them believing we were working with the Flush gang.  So, long story short, the Outsiders are up.”   

Despite his conflicting emotions about the mission the Wolfman could feel a primal excitement building within him.  [i]The call of the wild[/i], that's what Carter used to call it.  His insatiable hunger for action and adventure rearing its head.  

"I'm sending the mission co-ordinates to the [url=http://th01.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2012/090/1/1/vtol_by_alex_ichim-d4uhovw.jpg]cruiser[/url].  You wont have to do much more than hit go." Continued Hawkman, this statement earning a grimace from his former protege.  The cruiser was the Outsiders personal VTOL transport, a super jet combining Thangarian, Kryptonian and Martian technology.  Fenrir was the only one on the team officially qualified to fly it, a situation he meant to remedy as soon as possible.  He hated flying with a passion unrivaled, and the sooner someone else was responsible for piloting that monstrosity the better in his opinion.  

"Remember, if you're caught you and the rest of the Outsiders have no ties to the League.  You and I haven't spoken since you left Young Justice,"  Fenrir nodded.  Those were the terms decided upon when he was issued the mission of forming the Outsiders.  Whatever actions they took couldn't be connected to the League.  Public ally he had rescinded his partnership with Hawkman and his membership in Young Justice.  He rose from behind his desk, making towards the cabinet where he kept his Nth metal armor and hunting knife.  

"Don't worry Carter.  This team wont fail." he responded as he buckled his chest piece on.  Magnus was a man of few words, so when he said something like that the listener could be damn sure that he meant it.  

"I didn't doubt it." Hawkman said with a smile, before ending the transmission.  Fenrir finished gearing up, settling his wolf shaped helm into place, before grabbing his communicator, a thumbnail sized sliver of black metal.  Each member of the Outsiders had been given an identical model upon joining the team, along with express instructions to have it on them at all times.  He squeezed the sliver tight, a blinking red light indicating it was now transmitting to all of its counterparts.  

"Outsiders.  This is Fenrir.  We have a job.  Make for the Cruiser.  We leave in five."  The Wolfman was first on the VTOL, settling himself into the pilot's chair to await his teams arrival.

The call of the wild was growing louder and louder.