The men and women sat around the grand table in the basement of the Tokyo Hellfire Club. It was a very formal occasion, as that was the only time this room was ever used. It was time for the induction of a new Black King.

On the ‘White' side of the grand table, Keniuchio Harada could do nothing to sneer in smug disgust. Keniuchio, the White Knight, was not pleased with tonight's ceremonies. It would be hard to be pleased, when his mortal enemy was being introduced as Black King tonight. The man who, only a month ago, had sent assassins to murder Keniuchio's only child, and his mother Kathryn Yakamoto*. The man who had been a continuous thorn in the side of his family, and was Keniuchio's most hated enemy, Shinobi Shaw.

*(see Nomad #4 for the story)

Keniuchio looked around, at the other present members of the ‘White' side, and knew that this decision really pleased nobody. The former Black King, Takashi Tatsuo, had been a petty, ignorant man, so absorbed in his business of pornography and prostitution, that he had left much of the control of the Hellfire Club and Japan in the hands of the ‘White' faction. As long as Tatsuo got his money and his women, he was pleased. Now, Tatsuo was gone. Murdered, like much of the other members of the "Black' faction. the circumstances of their demises most dubious, and there wasn't a ‘White' member one who didn't suspect that Shaw had them all killed. There was no proof, of course, and Shaw himself had been attacked, but had miraculously survived his encounter.

As they awaited Shaw, and his new court's grand entrance, Keniuchio wondered if his father had been correct in his decision to let Shaw take his spot as Black King. Keniuchio's father, Shingen Yashida, head of Clan Yashida, and White King of Tokyo's Hellfire Club, had approved of Shaw's promotion to Black King. He said it would be easier to keep him close, in order to keep an eye on his moves. They were all aware Shinobi was a most dangerous individual. He was young, ruthless, and ambitious.

Suddenly the bell rang and all of those present watched as Shinobi made his way into the room. He was dressed in a gray, pin-stripped Armani suit and his face bore the smug smile, which seemed to be his signature expression.

Then the fireworks began. It wasn't Shinobi's appearance, but rather the entourage behind him, which sent waves of shock around the room.

"Allow me to introduce the new ‘Black' faction of Tokyo's Hellfire Club," declared Shaw to the obviously shocked room.

"First, I am sure you all know Black Rook, Matsuo Tasurayaba . . . "

Yes, they all knew him. He was an agent of the mysterious Hand. He was also dead, as far as anyone knew, thrown from a twenty-story window of the Tokyo Royal Plaza, when the deaths of all the ‘Black' faction had begun. Apparently, his death had been greatly exaggerated, but then again, when the Hand was involved, dead people seemed to have an amazing way of returning.

"Next, we have new Black Knight, Lady Dragon . . . "

Keniuchio watched as Lady Dragon walked to her seat, her eyes never leaving his. He could see the hatred smoldering within them. It was Keniuchio who had defeated her last in battle, a battle which had been the deathblow to her terrorist organization, The Silicon Dragons. Keniuchio had to watch her, because he knew she had lost everything, and those were the individuals that were the most dangerous, those with nothing left to lose.

"My Black Castle, Kantaro Umezu . . . "

Keniuchio knew Umezu as well. He was a prominent member of Eternal Sun, a very secretive martial arts and military faction which supplied ready-made assassins and terrorists to those with the money. Originally a noble house of warriors, Eternal Sun, was now corrupt and evil, despised by anyone of honor because of their terrorist tactics.

Keniuchio was beginning to see a pattern here. Shaw had made some serious alliances in his bid for control - The Hand, Lady Dragon, Eternal Sun. He was building a power-base more powerful than anyone had suspected. It was then that Keniuchio realized that things had already gone to far, that Shaw had grown to powerful, and he should have executed his enemy years ago.

"And finally, my Black Queen, Kwannon . . . "

Keniuchio was stunned. This woman matched the description of one of the assassins that had killed Takashi Tatsuo. The beauty, the dark purple hair, the ways she carried herself, all seemed to fit. What arrogance, thought Keniuchio, for the man to bring his predecessor's murderer with him, and crown her Queen.

"Now that we have been introduced, let us get this coronation in motion . . . "

"Your homestead is starting to look much better, old friend," said Oliver, smiling.

"It had nowhere to go but up," said Forge, as he watched his automated drones continue to build his roof, "those nasty cyborgs* did quite a job on the place, and it was damn hard to convince my insurance agent that renegade half-robotic terrorist attacks fell under my coverage."

*(see Agents of SHIELD Spotlight: Forge for the whole story!)

"I would imagine," laughed Oliver as he turned and looked out over the vast desert that covered Forge's Arizona homestead, known as Aerie. "Sure is damn beautiful out here though."

"Yeah," said Forge, turning his attention from the rebuilding, to follow Oliver's eyeline of the view, "I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Ready to settle down yet, Ollie, you know, you could build yourself a place down here, got plenty of land . . . "

"No," said Oliver, as he watched a jackrabbit dart between bushes, "I am just not ready yet. Kinda enjoying this traveling, nomadic lifestyle. See lots of friends, lots of places, and still got plenty of action in me."

"Did you go see Heather?*" asked Forge coyly, as he rumbled through his pouches for a couple of cigars.

*(Heather MacDonald, head of Canada's Alpha Flight, and Oliver's lover)

"Yeah," said Oliver, as he took one of the cigars and lit it up, "she asked me to stay, but I told her I wasn't ready also. Almost changed my mind though, but I don't think she is ready to give up Alpha Flight yet, and it is just too damn cold up there for me . . . "

Forge laughed, as he puffed on his cigar. "Too cold? You are getting old there, grandpa . . . "

Oliver smiled, "You aren't a spring chicken either, chief. When are you gonna quit playing games and make Carol* an honest woman again . . . "

*(Carol Danvers, former Ms. Marvel, and head of Danvers Corporation)

Forge nearly choked on his cigar. "What . . . Ollie . . . oh crap, what time is it . . . "

"Two p.m.," said Oliver, looking at his watch.

"We have got to move," said Forge, suddenly flushed and rushed. "We are suppose to be on that plane for Los Angeles in less than two hours. If we miss that benefit, Carol will have both our heads . . . "

Oliver started to laugh, again, at his friend, when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?" said Oliver.

"Daddy?" said the voice on the other end of the line. Oliver knew it was his daughter, Cassandra.

"What is up Cassie?"

"Are you still going to Los Angeles for Aunt Carol's charity benefit?"

"Of course," commented Oliver. "Why? What is going on?"

"Juan and I are on a plane. We are coming out . . . "

"What?" said Oliver, stunned. "Is something wrong?"

"No, daddy," said Cassie. "We just miss you, and thought we would come out for the benefit. I have to go now, daddy, the stewardess says dinner is coming, see you soon. Love you. Bye."

Oliver stood there for a second, holding the dead phone to his ear.

"What is up with Cassie?" asked Forge.

"I don't know," said Oliver. "but something is wrong, and she has to come to LA to tell me about it . . . "

Samantha Jenkins pulled her duffel bags out of her old, rusted green jeep. The time had finally arrived, she was at the airport, and ready to jump on a plane and leave her home of Wyoming for the first time in her life. Normally, she figured, she would have a tinge of sadness, for leaving this place. It was all she had ever known. Her adopted parents had raised her here, just a few miles away in Green River. Even after they had died in the car accident, she had stayed here, even though she had known all along that her destiny was calling her elsewhere.

Then he had arrived. The elegant, young, and charming oriental man, who claimed to know who Samantha's real father was. He had filled her head with fantastic tales of her super-hero father. Then told her of the vicious villain who had stolen him from her before she could even meat him. It had angered her. She wanted revenge. The oriental man said he could help her with that. He said he had many resources at his disposal.

Samantha wasn't stupid. She could tell the oriental man had a grudge against her father's killer also. She knew that he was just using her. She didn't care. The killer had taken her real father, the same way fate had taken her step-parents. It wasn't fair, and she wanted her revenge, her justice. She thought, at the very least, she deserved that.

As she looked out, it wasn't hard to see which plane was there for her. Among the throngs of crop-dusters and worn out single engines was one big, black, shiny, new Cesna. The oriental man had style, she would give him that at least.

Samantha made her way to the plane, and upon arrival, was greeted by a warmly smiling, tall, male attendant. He took her bags and showed her to a seat. Samantha was impressed, as the interior of the plane was even more luxurious than the exterior. The chairs were covered in fine, black leather, and there was a large television and DVD player placed about ten feet above her. She also noticed headphones, and a CD played which sat next to a stack of her favorite CDs. Somehow, this man had done his homework, and knew too much about her.

"Is everything satisfactory, madam?" asked the attendant.

"Peachy," replied Samantha, trying to hide her pleasant satisfaction. "Is there word on my ‘special project'?"

"Indeed," said the attendant. "Mr. Shaw said to inform you that Mr. Oliver Queen will be in Los Angeles starting this evening, and will be attending a large charity benefit tomorrow evening for the Danvers Foundation. Everything has been prepared into a dossier I will bring you shortly, which also contains your hotel reservations and a platinum card, in case you incur any expenses . . . "

"Thank you. Your Mr. Shaw is a most generous person." commented Samantha, as she noticed this months copy of ‘Archery Today' magazine, and picked it up, preparing to read it.

"Indeed," replied the attendant, then walked away, to close the hatch, and prepare the plane for its flight to the ‘City of Angels'.

Juan Marquez took the two drinks from the attendant, keeping the Coke for himself, and handing the Sprite to his flying partner, Cassandra Queen. Juan had been pleasantly surprised, so far, on the trip. Despite the fact she had been very nauseous in the cab to the airport, and inside JFK Airport, inside the plane, she had been fairly calm and quite. So far no vomiting incidents had occurred. In fact, except for the call to her dad, she hadn't spoke much at all.

Juan couldn't take the quiet much longer.

"So, Cass, how are you feeling?"

"Okay," said Cassandra, absentmindedly, not even turning from her viewing of the skies outside.

Juan rumbled through his head for other things to ask her about. He thought, at first, to ask her about the father, but he was already pretty sure about that. She had been seeing Thad Moore, star wide-receiver for the Gotham University football team. He was your typical macho jock, cute, but not Juan's type, and actually, not really Cassie's either. All body and not enough brains. It was probably why they had broken up weeks ago. Juan wondered if she had told him.

In the end, Juan decided to not ask Cassie anything else, at all. He simply placed his headphones back on his head and closed his eyes as the soaring voice of Sarah Brightman took away all other thoughts.