Birds of Prey

In Which Their Savior Arrives

I hope you enjoy the first (very messy) draft of Birds of Prey!

..............................

Five years before Games of Chance...

"Sir, there's been two drug busts in Central America, the Italian museum heist was a colossal train wreck, and... do you even want me to go into our entanglements in the Middle East?"

"No, I really don't," Joe Eadley rubbed his eyes with his pudgy fingers, letting out a frustrated grunt as he slammed his fists down on his desk, staring at the terrified lieutenant with bloodshot eyes. "Alright, Morris. Crunch the numbers and tell it to me straight. What does this mean?" 

The lieutenant- Morris- looked down at the clipboard in his hands where he'd written out a handful of calculations. "Our losses have exceeded our profits in almost every arena this year," he began, before coming to terms with the fact that he could no longer avoid outrightly stating the truth. "It means, sir, that you're very nearly broke." 

"I figured," Joe didn't even look that angry anymore- only unimaginably tired. He leaned back in his office chair, wiping the sweat off his brow as he stared up at the ceiling in contemplative shock. 

Could it be true? Had the law finally gotten the best of him? Was he, Redface Joe, ruler of Jacker Island and undisputed King of Crime, really going bankrupt?  What had even gone wrong? He had been doing so well... 

As Joe was in the midst of taking in the reality of his situation, a short teenage girl with obviously bleached platinum blond hair and plump lips curled into a perpetual pout burst through the door of his office. "Dad! Can I-" 

"I'm going to stop you right there, princess," Joe said through gritted teeth, a hint of sarcasm making its way into the once endearing nickname. "You see, daddy's not so rich anymore, so I'm afraid that new Gucci belt or whatever you're going to ask me for is going to have to wait." 

Calia Eadley's cherry-red lips turned even further down than before as she crossed her arms over her cashmere sweater. "What do you mean you're not rich anymore?" 

"I mean exactly what I said!" Joe snapped. 

"Speaking as the Jackers' accountant and not out of any kind of personal malice, the amount of money we could acquire from selling just one of your purses, Miss Calia, would be enough to fund a recovery- " 

"How dare you suggest such a thing!?" Calia let out a dramatic gasp.

"That's it!" Joe rose violently from his desk, nearly pushing it over from the force. "You!" he pointed at Morris. "Out of my sight! Come back when you have a plan to fix this whole situation. I need money for new ammunition soon, not to mention the fortune it costs to keep this useless brat in the latest fashion! I don't know what I was thinking, letting your good-for-nothing mother spoil you like that..." he shot Calia a hateful glare. 

Whipping around, Calia stormed out of the small office and down a flight of stairs to the crowded first floor of the Jacker warehouse. The base was alive with Jacked loading and unloading trucks, making accounts, and transporting prisoners. In fact, considering the amount of business the Jackers were doing, it was almost ludicrous that they weren't making money. As the only organization in the world with the capability to Jack, they could practically manufacture efficient workers and undercut pretty much anyone's prices. Calia soon found herself asking the same questions her father had been. What had gone wrong?

"Hey, Cal! Looking good today." 

Calia turned around, following the sound of the voice, to see a young Jacker lieutenant leaning against a stack of empty crates. When he noticed she was looking, he cocked his head to the side, flashing a wide smile. Normally, Calia would flirt back, but something just didn't feel right. She thought back to her father's words, hot tears welling up in her eyes. Sure, her mother had spoiled her... but at least she had loved her.