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Crystal staggered a bit, being put down. "I can't believe you did that you a**... Robin is a friend of mine. and besides you destroyed lives in there you know."

Crystal's mind was in and out in there and still some what was, she didn't realize that his fire had been put out and the current one was from an explosion from the Ghost.

She tried to punch him in the arm but lost her balance and nearly fell.

"But Leslie Thompson is the owner of the orphanage in crime ally on the south side of town."

Crystal started to walk off towards that area.

Crystal turned to look at him, opening her mouth to speak when a firetruck went by, blaring it's sirens, and she fell to the ground with a thud and a scream.

Arell sensed something was up. He raced over to Crystal, who was now lying on the ground. He slowly got Crystal up in such a way that the weight was around his shoulders, calling in a cab as quickly as he could.

The Cabbie drove up in a '55 Chevy Bel-Air that looked more fitting in Havana than Gotham. He opened the door and a Rhastafarian-looking character looked back at the Cajun.

"'Ey, mon! Where ya be headed?" the woman cabbie asked, a thick Jamaican accent in her voice that remained in Arell's ears as he put Crystal in the Cab and handed the cabbie some money.

"Take 'er t' de Orphanage down 'roun' Crime Ally, an' Step on it! She's hurt mighty bad!" the Cajun said, having to speak up over the din of the city.

"Dat be no prollum, mon. I'll take 'er dere." the cabbie said as Arell buckled her in.

"See ya 'round, che'." the Cajun said to Crystal as he shut the door to the cab and it drove off rapidly, leaving a skidmark as it rounded a corner. Arell took out the mostly-smoked cigarette out of his mouth and crushed it under his boot.

Well . . . hope she's okay. he thought, walking down the road to find the nearest oyster bar.


Meanwhile, outside Ghost's Apartment, three Mafia gangsters piled out of a nice-looking Mercedes Benz. Smitty, a small weasel-like fellow, Bozo, a burly character as dumb as a box-o-rocks, and Louis Razolli, crime boss and the better-dressed of the bunch climbed up the stairs to just outside of the apartment.

"So 'dis is the place, eh, boss?" Smitty asked as Bozo smiled stupidly.

"Duhh . . . does he have the rabbits, Boss?" Bozo asked the Don, who pushed the two knuckleheads out of his way.

"You idiots leave the talking to me . . . If we sway him over, we just got our foothold in Gotham . . . and then we'll get the entire east coast in the palm of our hands!!" the Boss hissed at his two minions as he knocked on the door.

((You got it!))

The Cabbie turned down the Bob Marley tape she had playing and opened the back window so they could talk.

"So was datcha boyfrien' back dere or sometin'?" the Jamaican woman asked Crystal as she drove rapidly.

((I'll explain everything as it goes along. Trust me, Skuld.))

The Jamaican woman smiled. "You'd be hard-pressed t'meet anudda fella dat would do sometin' like dat around here, missy." the woman said, her dreadlocks waving as the car sped down the road. "Best be sho' t' tank da man next time you two gon' cross pats again. Trust me, keed. You be glad you did wid' Cowboys like dat'." she said, as Bob Marley sang about One Love.

The Jamaican woman wasn't too surprised. "Kinda figured as such . . . da mask you got on gave dat one away mighty quick, but don't worry 'bout him. Seemed like de kinda guy who wouldn't do no killin'." she said as the orphanage appeared ahead in the distance.

"You eva catch de boy's name?"

The Jamaican pulled the car up and parked up by the stairs. "Sho' ting, keed." the Woman said as she helped her out of the car and walked with her up the stairs. "I'll be sho t' ask for you. De name's Antigua by de way . . . like de islan'. Now whass yours?" she asked, curious about the girl wearing the mask. "You're not a criminal, are you?"