[center][img]http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/ironfist02_zps70jajrxi.jpg[/img][/center] [center][b][color=forestgreen]HEROES FOR HIRE in A SNAKE IN THE GRASS[/color][/b][/center] [b]Manhattan General Hospital[/b] The thing about breaking into a hospital is that they’re never closed. There’s always gonna be a lot of people around to accidentally bump into while you’re just trying to see how a bullet entered some guy’s head. It’s not like you can waltz into the morgue and roll every stiff out of the freezer willy nilly. It takes a lot more finesse than that. [color=lightblue]“It’s that one,”[/color] Claire points to the door. [color=lightblue]“It’s locked though.”[/color] Oh, having a friend who works at the hospital helps a lot too. [color=forestgreen]“Claire, what would I do without you?”[/color] I flash a smile at her. [color=lightblue]“The question is how much less stress would I have without you?”[/color] She gives him the side-eye. It’s not out of line to ask. Claire puts her neck out for us often. Helping superpowered vigilantes one the side could be an arrestable offense depending on how much the feds felt like being ballbusters. And Claire helps us a lot. [color=forestgreen]“Well, you could always go full time with the nightly activities,”[/color] I respond, adjusting the surgical facemask I have to conceal my identity. It’s not as flashy as the Iron Fist suit, but it certainly stands out a lot less here. [color=forestgreen]“I’m sure Spider-Man could use a good medic.”[/color] [color=lightblue]“Yea, the last thing I need is more guys in spandex in my apartment,”[/color] she rolls her eyes. [color=forestgreen]“Well, thanks,”[/color] I nod. [color=forestgreen]“I’ll let you know what I find.”[/color] Approaching the morgue, I jiggle the handle hoping against hope that someone forgot to lock the door when they left. The resistance that greets my gentle push tells me I’m not that lucky. But honestly we’re never that lucky. If being a superhero was easy, everyone would do it. Actually, that’d be nice. Focusing my Chi, I slam my palm against the handle. The force of the blow snaps the lock in the door, allowing me ingress. As I cross the threshold, the frigid air of the morgue greets me, sending a tremor up my spine. The dead bodies don’t help either, of course. I mean, come on, dead people are a bit freaky. Unfortunately for me, there’s also a living person in this room as well. A doctor stands over a body performing an autopsy, with earbuds blocking out the world around him. I slink silently towards the drawers where the bodies are held. I search the names for the one I’m looking for, spotting “Officer Jonathan Rogers” after a few seconds. After flipping the latch of the drawer, the body slides out, revealing the body bag within. With a quick flick of the wrist, the zipper comes down, showing the gruesome visage of the slain cop. The number of bullet holes in the body is astounding, so many that there’s no way any doctor would give the cause of death much thought. My gaze drifts to the body’s head, where there is indeed a perfect shot right between the eyes. Even more interesting, however, was the angle it was at. The bullet had entered the skull at a downward angle, leading credence to what the mother and daughter had said. “Hey, who are you?” Crap. I turn to find the other doctor standing behind me and looking very confused, “You’re not supposed to be here. It’s restricted.” As he talks, my right hand begins to glow green as I focus my Chi again, this time also tapping into the lifeforce of the man standing in front of me. I can feel waves of confusion and trepidation flowing off of him, an odd sensation to say the least. I’ve been learning a lot from the Book of the Iron Fist, an ancient tome that chronicles the life and abilities of the other Iron Fists throughout time. Orson Randall, my predecessor, had stolen it from K’un-Lun and handed it down to me. It helped me save the Seven Cities, but I honestly haven’t practiced the things in it enough. [color=forestgreen]“Hey, sorry about this,”[/color] with my Chi powered hand, I place my thumb and index finger around the man’s brow. Instantly, he falls asleep. The technique is also supposed to erase the last few minutes of his memory, as long as I didn’t overdo it. [color=forestgreen]“God I hope you don’t wake up thinking you’re late for kindergarten.”[/color] [center]**********[/center] [b]Heroes for Hire Offices[/b] After I finish explaining to Luke about the bullet holes, he nods, [color=gold]“That lines up with the mother and daughter’s story. They said the first bullet came from a high angle. They also claim he kept claiming ‘shadows’ had been following him. He was on paid leave after a case, though he never told them why or what happened.”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“Did he have a partner?”[/color] [color=gold]“Yea, guy’s name is Burr, he was reassigned when Rogers went on leave,”[/color] Luke explains. [color=gold]“Desk jockey right now. You want to talk to him?”[/color] I consider it, but shake my head, [color=forestgreen]“Not until we have an idea on what we’re dealing with. I don’t want to put a target on his back as well.”[/color] [color=gold]“Good point. You’ll go talk to Misty to see if she can get her old contacts to get info on this case that apparently scarred a man and put him in line for a bullet to the head?”[/color] He asks with raised eyebrows. The grimace I shoot back at him is all the answer he needs, [color=gold]“Come on man. You gotta talk to her sometime.”[/color] Misty Knight is my girlfriend. Well, she’s my ex-girlfriend, I should say. The two of us are like dynamite when we’re together, the problem is dynamite explodes, and we’re currently in the fallout of one of those explosions. It was definitely my fault, as I kept her out of the loop during the events of last year. But I stand by my decision, and I don’t need to have a screaming match while trying to solve a case. [color=forestgreen]”Luke, I…”[/color] the sentence trails off as I think of a good excuse. [color=gold]“Listen, man, if you’re too much of a pansy to suck up your pride and talk to your ex, I’ll do it tomorrow,”[/color] he shakes his head. [color=gold]“But why don’t you look for your testicles tonight when you get home?”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“Great, thanks. That’s helpful,”[/color] I smirk meekly. Luke leaves the office, flipping off the reception light, leaving me alone in my office, the only illumination coming from a weak lamp on my desk. While it was good to be back in the normal flow of things, it certainly took getting used to. After fighting in a war, the drama of normal life seems trivial, even if it isn’t. [color=forestgreen]“Maybe a fight is exactly what I need right now,”[/color] I muse to myself, grabbing my Iron Fist costume out of the desk. Night in New York always means there’s some scumbag that needs to go to jail. Time to find some.