The room has no location. It appears on no official or unofficial plans. No architect or designer ever had the chance to put its dimensions down on paper. It is a good thing too, for if any had they would invariably be dead. The few who know of its existence refer to this room as The Pit and it is the meeting place for an organization so secretive that even its leaders do not know one another's real names.

Tonight, five sit at the table. Behind four of the five stands a woman wearing either a black or red cocktail dress. The cigar smoke and uneven lighting in the room shroud their figures. Yet even if it were possible to see their faces clearly, the masks each wears makes any attempt at visual identification futile.

The four men in front of them share the color themes, but unlike the women, they easily appear in the dimly lit room. Each of them also sports a mask that the fifth man at the table can clearly make out.

The first of the men in red has a stag mask that matches the rest of his suit in color. The antlers go up into his hair and extend into a crown of sorts. Next to him sits a man in all black, his mask a utilitarian balaclava that leaves only his intense eyes visible. He does not move save for his hands, which nervously toss a short, cylindrical, blackjack back and forth.

Next to him sits the second man in red. His mask would be transparent were it not for the glittering and shifting lights that shimmer inside. A crystalline structure covers his face. In a pantomime of his companion’s getup jagged edges burst forth to form a kind of crown.

At his side, the final man in black rests with a nonchalant attitude. Much like his counterpart, he sports a simple getup. His suit is all black and his mask is incredibly simple, merely a covering for the eyes that leaves little of the face covered. In his hands is a wide bladed dagger that tapers off to a wicked point. The metal of the blade is all black except near the handle where it flares into two rounded edges that have a pair of faint splotches that appear similar to dried blood from a distance.

The fifth man at the table is the CEO and principle shareholder of Napp Corp, and for all the menace of the men across from him, he seems unfazed. The man in red with a stag mask leans back in his chair and raises his empty glass. In a moment, the woman behind him steps forward and fills it before disappearing back into the smoke. Neither Napp, nor anyone else, spares her a second glance. Taking a swift drink the stag-adorned man swallows then begins to speak.

"What you are asking will be..." he pauses to swirl the alcohol in his glass before continuing, "expensive."

"I am prepared to pay you the agreed upon sum." Napp replies, steepling his fingers.

"Oh? This is about more than money Mr. Napp. We want something more." A confident and cocky attitude permeates the man's tone.

Napp's face expresses the displeasure that fills his tone. "You will receive what we agreed upon, nothing more and nothing less."

With a clear threat marked in his tone, the red man replies, "It would be... unfortunate if something bad were to happen to your daughter, wouldn't it Mr. Napp?"

Now unchecked hostility marks Napp's tone, "I have tolerated your attitude because I assumed your professionalism and ability would be worth my time. If this is not the case then I will leave."

"Mr. Na-” The man in red begins, but is cut off by the man wielding the black blade.

His voice brooks no argument, "The previous terms are acceptable. We will complete your contract."

Napp nods, and then turns to the man in black. "Again, no harm to the pilot. At least... nothing permanent. I need them alive and hale."

"Deal." He says with a nod.

Nodding, Napp pauses before continuing. This time, it is his voice that brooks no argument, "Push me again, mention my daughter again, go beyond the terms of our contract, and I will crush this organization and all of you." He turns to the man in red who spoke earlier, "Starting with you." This time, clear hostility marks Napp's voice.

At this, the man in black wielding the blade grins. His mask does little to conceal his exceptionally white teeth and against his dark skin, the color sets a severe contrast that almost seems feral. "Why Mr. Napp. Should the King of Hearts mention your daughter again I'll carve him myself if that will make you feel better."

Napp turns back to the smiling crime lord and shakes his head. His voice is clear and commanding, even as it conveys a sense of disquiet. "I am not a violent man. I have no desire to witness any of your carvings." Then he sends a pointed look at each of the men before looking back to the man in black and continuing. "I know all too well your methods and your powers, so feel free to discipline your subordinate as you see fit but keep me out of it. One final condition, none of you will be personally involved in this operation. I do not want the pilot permanently harmed and I have no faith in any of your subordinates’ restraint. Or for that matter your own, Spade."

The man in black's smile never falters, but the gleam in his eye fades. "Understandable. Well then, we'll just have to send in the aces. Four against one, even without powers they should be more than enough to capture this thief of yours." The regret in his tone serves to rescue the proceedings from any further escalation.

The King of Hearts visibly relaxes, although the movement is so slight that most would not notice. But Napp does notice, all his years making deals in boardrooms serve him well at this meeting. Although, he would be the first to admit, never have the stakes been quite so high and never has the company been quite so unwelcome!

Napp stands and turns without replying. As he walks away he casually intones, "Do not disappoint me. I have little enough patience for your kind of... services to begin with, and if you try to double cross me I'll invite Beacon into the city for as long as it takes for your entire organization to fold."

Soon as Napp leaves the one referred to as Spade motions with his fingers, summoning the woman standing behind him. She bends over as he whispers a few curt commands in her ear and then struts over to a phone sitting in the far corner of the room. Raising the reciever she issues a few muted commands. None of the men moves until she is done speaking. Then, as she returns to her place standing behind Spade, the man in red with the crystalline mask turns to the others and asks, "Whose deal is it?"

With a curt nod, the King of Hearts replies, "Mine. Queen!"

At this, the girl standing behind him walks around the table and sits down in the chair Napp previously occupied. Then she pulls out a deck of playing cards and begins to shuffle before dealing out a hand to each.

In a helicopter now far away from the room, Napp lets out an exhausted breath. Silently he reflects to himself on the strangeness of today and the need to deal with such reprehensible criminals. If he had the choice, he would never engage in such an act. Yet, to recover his missing suit and so ensure the protection of the entire city, no the entire nation, he must.

As always, when he makes a difficult choice, his hand unconsciously reaches for the locket he wears around his neck containing photos of both his wife and sometimes wayward daughter. If only he could see her now! He might have a different take on his recent deal.

High above the city a glittering bird made of shimmering metal soars. This is none other than Ginger Snap, known to the world at large as Ginny S. Napp! Although the scene itself is tranquil, her irritated tone spooks the only birds brave enough to fly close to her intimidating form.

"Ginger Snap! Ginger freaking Snap! I swear I am going to have words with that Eldritch girl. What a little hussy! Calling me Ginger Snap, what an absolute disaster!"

"Ms. Napp, did you have an alternative name in mind?" The calm tone of the suit is an effective counter to Ginger's own agitation and propensity to work herself into a fervor of anger. It catches her off-guard and causes her budding anger to falter before continuing to swell.

"Well... no. But I could have thought one up! I could have been Mistress Mechanical! Or maybe Metalmorpher. Oooohhh, what about Iron Maiden?"

"Ms. Napp, I believe the last suggestion would invite even more comparisons to Eldritch Maiden."

"Exactly! She even stole that part!" All of a sudden, a vent of steam erupts from the bird's head. "I'm just soooooo mad!"

"Ms. Napp, my calculations indicate that your level of anger is interfering with calibration. You must try to remain calm."

"Oh like Hell I'll remain calm while that... that... that maiden roams around MY city acting all innocent and pure!" The bird folds its wings and moves into a dive, falling at incredible speeds towards the ground.

"All we need to do is find someone to beat on our own, without little miss upstage showing her fake face with all her illusionary good looks distracting everyone from how awesome I am. That's exactly what I need. Suit, do the scanners show any crimes happening?"

"You can intercept a robbery if you adjust course by five degrees in exactly ten seconds."

"Booooorrrriiinnnng." Ginger exclaims in disgust, "Who cares about some dumb robbery? We need to fight somebody with real powers. Somebody important and evil and most of all NON-MAGICAL."

"Ms. Napp, shall I register a call to the police then for the robbery?"

"I don't care. Sure." At this, the bird folds out of its dive and begins to swoop lazily upwards again.

Then Ginny exclaims in a sudden flood of inspiration, "Wait! It's just like Mr. Memely said, I've got to get a reputation and then people will come straight to me!"

"Ms. Napp, I believe you are taking the lesson out of context. Professor Memely's point was rather that some villains delight in targeting and tormenting heroes. But such villains are incredibly dangerous and should not be provoked."

"Blah blah blah. You sound like my dad." Ginger lowers her voice and in a gruff tone continues to speak, "'No Ginny, loud neighbors isn't a good reason to buy the city block. No Ginny, you can't build a shopping mall across from the high school. No Ginny, initiating a hostile takeover of Google so you can get them to make a doodle for your birthday isn't an appropriate use of your allowance.' All I really wanted was a minority stake, I mean is that too much to ask?"

"I am unequipped to answer that question Ms. Napp."

"Whatever, okay is that the robbery down there?" Ginger’s focused tone stands in stark contrast to her usual flippancy. Her excitement is starting to shine through!

"Affirmative."

Impatiently, Ginger practically shouts into her helmet, “Well let’s go already!”

Would that we could accompany her, dear reader! But our ride-along ends here for now, until next week when we rejoin Ginger Snap as she secures her first formal arrest in… “The Turn!”