Mattie Franklin kneeled on the Brooklyn Bridge. The wind whipped through her chin-length reddish-brown hair. It was chilly out, but she could barely feel the cold through her insulated costume. Her mask consisted of two large, white lenses against black cloth, a small cape of webbing, and a giant red spider on the center of her costume.

“Spider-Woman, I presume?”

Mattie turned and saw a man standing behind her. He was dressed from head to toe in red, white, and blue spandex. His was fairly muscular and tall as well. He approached her slowly, and she wasn’t sure what to make of him.

“My name’s Patriot,” he said.

“What’s this about?” asked Spider-Woman. “Why have you been following me?”

“You sensed me?” asked Patriot. Spider-Woman nodded. If she could see beneath his mask, she would see a grin. “Good, you’re better than I expected.”

Mattie fought off the urge to blush. She was fairly new to the hero game, and hearing someone else comment favorably on her skills, especially a fellow hero, was good praise for her. However, she didn’t want to let on that she only detected his presence because her powers allowed her to sense him when he followed her.

“So, are you gonna tell me what this is about?” she repeated. “Because I really don’t want to waste my time out here.”

“I have a proposition for you,” said Patriot.

“And what would that proposition be?” asked Spider-Woman.

“Have you ever heard of the New Warriors?”

The New Warriors in…

FROM THE GROUND UP

Part II: Recruiter

By Dino Pollard

Seventeen-year-old Adam Aaronson stood out on the empty football field, a gym bag slung over his shoulder, a football in his hand. His eyes were focused on the stars above. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see his father standing behind him.

“Hey,” said Adam.

“Hi,” said Steve Aaronson. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just fine,” said Adam. “Just been thinking.”

“About what?” asked Steve.

“You remember my freshman year, they told me I wasn’t big enough to play football?” asked Adam. Steve nodded. “And now… it’s my senior year and I’m starting quaterback for the varsity team. That’s just… I dunno, really weird.”

“This is about our conversation from the other week, isn’t it?” asked Steve.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” replied Adam. “Y’know, I always thought I had been a late bloomer or something. But now… I find out I can do all these things, and it makes me wonder… Y’know, if not for the accident, I probably wouldn’t be on the team.”

“I see,” said Steve. “Do you… do you wish we hadn’t…?”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” said Adam. “I mean, I’m really grateful for what you did, Dad. How many people get a second chance, right?”

Steve Aaronson felt relief wash over him at his son’s words. He patted Adam on the back.

“C’mon, we should get going.”

“You go on ahead,” said Adam with a smile. “I’ve got my car, I’ll be home later.”

“Alright,” said Steve. “Don’t stay out too late, you know how your mother worries.”

“I know,” said Adam.

Steve Aaronson stood there for a moment with his hand on his son’s shoulder, as if waiting for something. When he realized Adam had nothing more to say, he smiled at him, removed his hand, and walked towards the stadium exit. Adam watched him head towards the parking lot. He looked back down at the football in his hand. He pulled his arm back and threw the football, launching it with all his strength. It flew clear past the stadium, and Adam lost sight of it.

Adam sighed, and it was then he heard the clapping. He raised his eyebrow and turned on his heel. A man emerged from the shadows, dressed in a trench coat and fedora. He stopped clapping once Adam caught sight of him and the man approached the young football star.

“Good game,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Adam. “Who are you?”

The man removed his hat, and beneath it he wore a blue facemask with a smaller red mask over his eyes and a white star in the center of his forehead.

“…what are you?”

“My name is Patriot,” he replied. “And you’re Adam Aaronson, right?”

“Yeah,” replied Adam.

“Starting quarterback, varsity team,” said Patriot. “Quite impressive.”

“Not really, every team’s gotta have a starting QB,” said Adam.

“Yes, but you’ve led the team to quite a few victories, haven’t you?” asked Patriot. “I hear some Big Ten universities are sending recruiters to watch you play.”

Adam shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“I’ll say,” said Patriot. “Especially when you couldn’t even make the B team your freshman year. And that nasty car accident, too — you certainly recovered nicely from that.”

“What do you want?” asked Adam.

“Ten hours of intensive care,” said Patriot, ignoring Adam’s question. “You were even declared legally dead, weren’t you?”

“Don’t make me ask you again,” said Adam, growing agitated.

“And your father… didn’t a robot body go missing from the company he worked for?”

“Okay, that’s it!” exclaimed Adam. He moved forward with remarkable speed and before Patriot knew what happened, Adam’s hand was wrapped around his throat and holding him above the ground. Patriot just chuckled and allowed himself to hang there.

“What’s so funny, freak?” asked Adam.

“Come on, Adam — I saw how you threw that football,” replied Patriot. “I saw how you were on the field. You were holding back, weren’t you?”

“Shut. Up.”

“You’re holding back now, aren’t you?” asked Patriot. “If you wanted to, you could probably crush my windpipe right now, right?”

“Don’t tempt me,” replied Adam.

“But you’re not a killer, are you Adam?” asked Patriot. “You’re just a victim of circumstance. And I didn’t come here for a fight.”

“Then what did you come here for?” asked Adam.

“To make you an offer,” replied Patriot. “To give you a chance to do some good with your abilities. Something far more beneficial to the world than scoring touchdowns.”

Adam found his grip relaxing, and he slowly lowered Patriot to the ground. He released the man completely and sighed.

“Okay,” said Adam. “Let’s hear what you have to say.”

In the basement of an Empire State University dormitory, Greg Willis removed his clothes from the dryer. He looked up and smiled at a young coed with long, brown hair. She smiled back and went back to her laundry.

“How you doing?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied.

“That’s good,” he said. “Y’know, being away at college is nice, but if there’s one thing I miss, it’s not having to do laundry.”

“I did all my own laundry when I was in high school,” she said.

“Ah, that’s cool,” said Greg. “So what’s your major?”

“Elementary ed,” she replied. “What about you?”

“Undecided,” said Greg. “Where are you from?”

“Jersey.”

“Oh, so you’re not that far from home, are you?” asked Greg.

“Far enough,” she said.

“That’s cool,” said Greg. “I’m from Illinois.”

“Chicago?” she asked.

“Nope, DeKalb,” he replied.

“Hey DeKalb, isn’t that where NIU is?” she asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” asked Greg.

“One of my friends goes there,” she replied. “Why did you come all the way out here when you’re from a college town?”

“Please, I’ve lived in the cornfields my whole life,” said Greg. “I needed a change, so I thought New York was the place to be. By the way, I’m Greg.”

“Nice to meet you, Greg,” she said. She picked up her laundry basket and walked towards the door.

“Umm… I didn’t catch your name,” he said.

“Nancy,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, too,” said Greg. “Hey, you know of any good parties this weekend?”

“Nope, I think I’m going home this weekend,” replied Nancy. “But it was nice talking to you.”

“Nice talking to you, too,” said Greg. He reached into the dryer and pulled out some more whites, piling them into the basket. He looked in the dryer and saw only one thing left — a white costume. He looked around and quickly pulled it into his basket.

Janice Olivia Yanizeski stood on a rooftop. She glanced behind her to see a large billboard filled with superheroes. She had come here at the behest of the mysterious young man who called himself Patriot, more out of curiosity than anything else — but also because she was worried he might reveal her to the authorities. Still, she knew she was taking a huge risk by pulling the Joystick costume back on.

Behind her, the lithe form of Spider-Woman landed softly on the rooftop, and Joystick paid her no mind. She wasn’t interested in smalltalk — she was interested in getting this over with. A third party joined their little gathering, this one a young man with platinum blonde hair, a white mask, and a leather jacket covered with golden discs.

“Ahh, my fan club awaits,” said Ricochet. “So which one of you ladies sent me this invite?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Spider-Woman.

“I was tracking a drug dealer on ESU’s campus, and I found him knocked unconscious,” replied Ricochet. “There was a note pinned to his jacket telling me to meet here. And at this hangout, I was expecting someone other than you two.”

The three costumed characters heard the clang of metal against metal. They turned towards the source, and a robot climbed up to the rooftop.

“Hi,” he said. “I guess this is the place, huh?”

“Did you send the note?” asked Ricochet.

“Note? What note?”

“He got a note,” said Joystick.

“Oh… no, it wasn’t from me,” said the robot.

“So… who are you guys, anyway?” asked Ricochet.

“Spider-Woman.”

“Spider-Woman?” asked Joystick. “How old are you, honey? Twelve? You look more like Spider-Girl.”

“And just who are you, exactly?” asked Spider-Woman, a hint of arrogance in her voice.

“Joystick,” she replied.

“Joystick?” repeated Spider-Woman. “As in the criminal Joystick?”

“Former criminal,” said Joystick. “My past is none of your business, kiddo.”

“Anyway…” said Ricochet. He didn’t know what the situation was, but he knew he wanted to find out before the two of them went for each other’s throats. “My name’s Ricochet. What about you, bud?”

“Umm… well, the thing is…” he began. “I… Machine Teen.”

“…Machine Teen?” asked Ricochet, his brow raising slightly. “Heh, I like it — it’s marketable.”

“I see the introductions have all been made.”

The four young men and women looked towards the source of the voice. From the shadows, the Patriot emerged, and everyone wondered how long he had been there for. Spider-Woman and Ricochet wondered if he really was there all along, as he failed to set off either of their extra senses.

“Save for Ricochet, you’ve all met me,” he said. “My name is Patriot.”

“That’s nice and all,” said Ricochet. “But what’s the deal here?”

“I’ve been monitoring each of you four over the past several weeks and months,” said Patriot. “In the cases of Spider-Woman and Ricochet, it was fairly simple. You two, although not widely known, have been active with your vigilant activities. Joystick took some tracking down, as did Machine Teen.”

“Yeah, especially in my case,” said Machine Teen. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve even done anything like this.”

“I have my sources,” said Patriot.

“So again, I gotta ask — what’s the point?” asked Ricochet.

“Everyone has heard of the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men… but there are some problems they won’t handle,” said Patriot. “Some crimes they can’t be bothered with. Some crimes are simply… too small for them. I can’t allow that to happen, I can’t stand by and allow that to happen. We may be young, but this is our world, too. Our city. And we’re in a position to change things if we don’t like them.”

“Ra ra for the hero team, huh?” asked Ricochet. “Is that what this is, some sort of recruitment drive?”

“That’s exactly what it is, Ricochet,” replied Patriot. “I’m asking you four to be part of my New Warriors.”

“I’d like to know more about you, first,” said Joystick. “Like how you found out so much about us.”

“As I said before, I have my sources,” said Patriot. “I’m not asking you to reveal your identities to each other.”

“Except you already know them all,” said Joystick.

“Just you and Machine Teen,” said Patriot. “I’m giving you all a chance to do some more good than you have been.”

“Newsflash buddy — I’m not a superhero,” said Joystick. “I don’t give a damn about doing any good.”

“What about redemption for your past sins?” asked Patriot. “Maybe then you wouldn’t have to hide your true identity.”

“So what, are you threatening to turn me in if I don’t go along with this?” asked Joystick.

“The question isn’t whether or not I’d turn you in,” replied Patriot. “The question is do you want to take that risk?”

“Bastard…” muttered Joystick. “Fine, I’m in.”

“Good,” said Patriot. He turned to the other three. “And you?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” said Machine Teen. “Seems like it could be fun.”

“I don’t trust Joystick,” said Spider-Woman. “Once a criminal and all that. So I’ll stay on to keep an eye on her.”

“That’s fine,” said Patriot. “Ricochet?”

“Sure, I’m in,” said Ricochet. “She-Spidey may not trust Joystick, but I don’t think I trust you. So I wanna see what game you’re playing here and I wanna know what exactly your sources are.”

“I don’t care about your reasons for joining,” said Patriot. “Welcome to the New Warriors.”