Birds of Prey

In Which Their Savior Arrives

She missed her so much. 

"What's the matter?" the guy questioned at the sight of Calia's uncharacteristically dull expression. 

"Oh, haven't you heard? Eadley's done for. Jackers are goin' broke. I'll probably be packing my stuff up and leaving for Europe before this whole operation collapses," A slightly older Jacker remarked as he cracked a groundnut in half, popping it into his mouth. "Daddy's little princess isn't so special anymore, huh? She's just like the rest of us now."

Calia turned around in disgust, her hands balling up into fists as she ran out of the Jacker base- or at least, speed-walked as fast as she could in her sparkly silver stilettos. As she emerged from the semi-dark warehouse into the blinding Southeast Asian sun, she found herself squinting and raising her hand to shield her face. When her eyes finally adjusted to the glare, she looked over her left shoulder, scrunching up her nose at what she saw. 

Sitting quietly in the shade of the warehouse roof was a scrawny girl who looked a little younger than Calia. Her long, dark hair was matted to her pale, sweaty forehead and her bony legs were awkwardly positioned in a black wheelchair that barely held her immobilized body upright. 

"You," Calia hissed, slowly turning around to face the girl. "Look at you. What an absolute waste of space. Every day, we feed you and clothe you, and to what end? You're useless. We ought to toss you into the sea. That would cut costs." 

"You've suggested this to your father before," the girl spoke in a soft but powerful voice. "He's never complied. He seems to have some reason for keeping me alive." 

"Yes, but I don't," Calia smirked. "One of these nights, I'll slit your skinny little throat." 

"All for a new designer belt?" the girl raised her eyebrows in feigned surprise. "You should be able to buy that in a heartbeat. Oh, wait... money's tight in the Eadley family, isn't it? That's not something you're accustomed to. What a shame." 

"How do you know that!?" Calia waddled over to the girl, her high heels making it very difficult to make her way across the island's sandy ground. She grabbed the girls shoulders, shaking her threateningly. 

"... I can't feel that, you know," the girl replied calmly, not even slightly perturbed by Calia's threats. "And I know about pretty much everything that goes on here. I may not speak, but I listen." 

"That's really creep- oh, hellooo Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome, I wonder who you are." Calia's attention was immediately captured by a young man in a well-tailored suit who walked pompously across the beach, briefcase in hand. He looked like the picture-perfect successful businessman... except for one thing: the ridiculous plastic mask on his face. With two eyeholes and a long, yellow caricature of a beak, it resembled a poorly drawn, cartoon version of an eagle. 

Taking off her shoes and tossing them in the sand, Calia bounded over to him with a skip in her step. Several other Jackers joined her, drawing knives and guns alike as they surrounded the stranger in a semicircle. 

"Hey," one of the Jackers stepped forward. "Who are you? You here to trade? If so, we're going to need to see a letter from the contact who sent you here." 

"And what's with the mask, man?" 

"I don't know... some gangs do weird stuff like that." 

The Jackers slowly fell silent, realizing that they were the ones who had been doing the talking while the stranger remained totally silent. Clearing his throat, he began to speak in a deep but surprisingly young voice. 

"No, I'm not here to trade. And I don't have a contact. I need to see Redface Joe." 

A few of the Jackers exchanged looks of amusement before one of them spoke what they were all thinking. "Look, kid, Redface Joe doesn't see just anyone. We're going to need to know who you are, who sent you, and what you want with our leader."