Americana stayed to the shadows. She wanted to be sure.

But there was no mistaking the distinctive leather jackets the four girls were sporting.

Nighthawks jackets.

On females?

Maybe they were a new fashion, imitations kicked out by one of the hip clothing boutiques. But the more Americana thought about it, the more those jackets looked to be authentic.

Could they be wearing them, kind of like how some girls wore their boyfriend's letter jackets?

Americana watched the quartet as they moved from patio bar to patio bar, barely drinking anything before moving on.

From other patrons' reactions, she wasn't the only one who recognized the Nighthawks' colors.

Americana frowned. She thought she had taken care of the Nightbawks several months ago. Since that night the gang hadn't been heard from, not even in the prime trouble-making months of summer.

Could these four girls be advertising that the gang was not dead, after all?

She could, of course, just fly down and ask them what they were up to.

Sure, and afterward we'll all go out for coffee, Americana thought.

The quartet piled into an old Chevy.

Should she - ?

Oh, what the heck. It wasn't like she had anything else to do tonight, what with Jason working late at the theater again.

That was something they were seriously going to have to discuss once they were married, she thought as she lifted into the air. She wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of him working at night and her on the day shift.

Hel-lo, she said to herself as she followed the car north, along the Potomac. What about her time as Americana?

What, did she expect Jason to stay home and watch TV while she was out chasing crooks? Better that he was doing what he enjoyed than sitting around worrying about her.

What if Jason decided that he didn't care for his wife running around in a bicentennial bodysuit and catching criminals instead of spending time with him?

Ohh, boy, were they going to have to have a lon-n-g talk. Before marriage.

Whoops. She noticed that the girls' Chevy had already parked, and the four were entering one of the seedy dives that were scattered throughout the warehouse district.

Americana frowned. She recognized this area - home to industrial buildings and flophouses and bars.

She had been down here before, as Americana, many months before.

She hadn't much liked it then, either.

Americana looked for traffic, but there was none. Just a few cars outside of the bar.

Big surprise, she smiled. Even the scumbags don't come down here after midnight.

Careful, Astrea, she thought fiercely - judge not lest you be judged.

Still, she thought as she glanced up at the bar sign - 'Satin Lady', it read - that sure doesn't sound like a place woman would want to go to...

"Americana. I am pleased you could make it."

She whirled, to see a man standing in the alley across the street.

He probably thought he was hiding in the shadows, but Americana could see him as well as if he were standing in daylight.

He was a big man, as tall as she, with skin the color of creamed coffee. His black hair was close-cropped, as was his beard, and his dark eyes shone with a penetrating glare.

The man's upper body was bare, showing off his massive chest and thick arms; metal wristbands set off his large hands. His lower body was encased in black leather tights, with a wide metallic belt.

She thought he was quite handsome, except for the costume. Costume, she sighed, meant trouble.

"Hello," she said, cognizant of the fact that no-one knew she could see in the dark. "Care to step into the light?"

"Gladly," the man said with a thin smile. "I am the last man you shall ever see. I am... Doctor Steel."

"Dr. Steel?" Americana mused. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Dallas, perhaps?" the man said quietly as he walked out into the street. "I was an enforcer. Now... I am trading up."

"Uh... come again?"

"Since you defeated the Queens of Steel, there has been a vacuum in this city, a vacuum of leadership. But there remains an obstacle."

Obstacle? What the heck was he blathering... oh.

Her.

Americana looked around at the darkened windows nearby. Only the liquor store and the bar were still open. "The girls.... nothing more than bait, huh? Pretty clever."

"I try," he smiled. "Oh. No ambush."

He smacked his hands together. "I will take care of you myself."

"Um, look. Doc."

Americana slowly looked him up and down. "Confidence is wonderful and all, but... in a fair fight, I'm practically unbeatable."

"Oh, but who said anything about a fair fight?"

He smacked his wristbands together, and there was a shimmering effect around him as he shouted to the skies! "Ho-o-o-a-a-a-n-n-n-n!"

What the - he was now taller than she was?

He raised his beefy fists - which, Americana realized with a shock, were as big as her head.

"Jeez!" the heroine cried as she somersaulted backwards, his fists coming down like mallets just inches from her head - and slamming into the ground with an enormous boom!

Dr. Steel swung again, and Americana sprang to her right and bounded off the wall of a liquor store that had seen better days.

Good grief, he was much faster than he -

Kapow! His fist slammed into her head!

Americana arced through the air and crashed headfirst into the ground. She bounced, ungracefully, twice before landing in a pile on the street.

"Wh-whoa..." the heroine gasped as she staggered to her feet. "Where's... what... ?"

She looked up to see Steel's fist heading toward her.

Wham! A solid punch to the chest sent Americana straight back into the wall of an old hotel. Bwooommmmm!

As the smoke and dust cleared, Americana hung, half-embedded in the wall.

"...ow."

The heroine shook her head, trying to clear the stars that kept blinking in front of her eyes. Heavens...

She yanked herself out of the wall and flew toward Dr. Steel. Okay, mister, let's see you do that -

Whammmmmm! He hit her with an uppercut, sending her looping head over heels to crash into a pick-up truck.

...again...?

Americana groggily picked herself up out of the wreckage...

Just as a a huge shadow covered her.

"Ohhh, damn."

Kaboooom! The cab of a semi truck slammed her straight down into the pavement, then burst into flames.

For long seconds, there was no movement save the settling of the wreckage.

Dr. Steel watched for a moment. Then, satisfied, he turned away.

...only to hear the screech of metal as Americana burst through the wreckage!

O-okay, she huffed, standing among the remains of the truck - just how strong was -

"Ho-o-o-a-a-a-n-n-n-n!"

Dr. Steel's form shimmered again.

Oh, my, God.

He now stood over ten feet tall, and proportionally as wide. He grinned as he looked down on his foe.

Dr. Steel swung his mammoth fists down at her - and Americana hurriedly leapt out of the way as they pulverized the wreckage!

Good grief, she thought as she rolled to her feet. Did he really just -

Bawhoooom!

The big man's enormous fist slammed into her body, sending her sailing helplessly across the street and through the window of the liquor store. She smashed through all three aisles and landed upside down halfway in the coolers, reeking of alcohol.

G-gotten f-faster, too, she groaned.

"Americana? Are you - ?"

""Y-yeah. Stay away from the front of the store, okay?"

The superheroine zoomed past the salesman and out onto the street.

To her shock, Dr. Steel had crossed his wristbands and was growing even more.

"Ho-o-o-a-a-a-n-n-n-n!" he cried out as he shimmered.

He was now roughly double her height, triple her breadth, and would probably outweigh her by about four hundred pounds.

She slowed and floated about thirty yards from the giant.

This wasn't going well. He was bigger and faster than she... if this kept up he'd pound her into pudding.

"Come on, Americana - you're hardly making this worth the effort!"

Dr. Steel pounded the ground with both huge fists - and the street rolled toward Americana like a wave on the water, sending parked cars flying!

Americana casually flew up above the wave - then streaked toward the man-mountain, bringing back her fist! This time she'd -

Whuuuuuugghhh!

A hard blow to her midsection sent her soaring upward! She tried to focus, to get her bearings -but just as her vision cleared she fell in front of a waiting Steel's fists.

Buh-whammm!

Americana flew down the middle of the street, some sixty feet, before bouncing several times and crashing through three cars. She tumbled from the last auto and landed, unmoving, flat on her back.

"Uuhhh-hh..." Americana moaned as she painfully sat up.

Her strength... her toughness... were just no good... this time.

She looked at the looming Dr. Steel... and hesitated.

Then, she turned and flew off in the opposite direction.

"She's running... away?" Dr. Steel stood stock still as the enormity of this hit him.

"She's running away! I win!"

The heroine disappeared around a corner - then, smiling grimly, she accelerated.

She was not running away.

Not exactly.

She grabbed hold of a lightpost on the next corner and whipped around the iron pole, so that she was now heading back in the direction from whence she came, only in the next block over.

Americana flashed down the empty street and roared around another lightpole, not losing any momentum but actually gaining speed.

Though I walk in the valley of darkness I fear no evil, she thought as she approached her final turn...

Dr. Steel was still standing there, looking in the direction in which she had gone. He was pointing, mocking her... almost dancing.

Been watching a bit too much wrestling, she thought with a slight smile.

"Look at her," he roared with delight. "Running off with her tail - urk!"

Before he knew what was happening, he was soaring upward at well over one hundred fifty miles per hour, dragged by his right arm -

And by Americana.

She was flying upside down, both hands around his massive wrist; her body was positioned so he couldn't get at her.

"What's that about my tail, Doc?"

Dr. Steel took a few seconds to realize what was happening - and by then they were already a thousand feet over Washington, and rising fast.

"Let... me... go-o-o-o!" he yelled, squirming furiously.

"You sure? It's a long way down."

The mega-muscled maniac looked down and saw the rapidly-receding Washington.

"N-no... oh God no!"

Americana shot straight up, backwards, certain that they wouldn't hit any planes due to Washington's being a no-fly zone.

"You crazy... please! Oh, God!"

Americana smiled pleasantly down at the terrified Dr. Steel.

"What's the matter, Doc? I thought you liked looking down on the world!"

The heroine felt some pangs of guilt. After all, she had been doing this for almost a year, and hadn't quite got used to flying; she could only imagine the terror going through Steel's head.

She sighed and stopped.

"Listen to me," she said calmly. "I won't drop you, okay? I won't drop you, all right?"

Dr. Steel whimpered and nodded vigorously.

Five thousand feet up, without a plane or a parachute. She almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"These bracers - they're the source of your power, right? Right?!"

"...yes. But they cannot be removed by - "

Ri-i-i-p-p-p.

"By normal mortals, perhaps," Americana smiled casually. "Other arm, please."

Dr. Steel reluctantly raised his arm - there was nothing to bang it with anymore, anyway.

With his power bands gone, he quickly began shrinking back to normal size.

"Now, I am assuming you are powerless - "

"I am I am!" Steel whimpered, looking down.

"Good," she continued speaking, in no particular hurry. "Now, mind telling me why you wanted to 'take care of' me, hmm?"

"Anything - just don't drop me! I wanted to move up... you know, branch out - yiii."

"Don't look down," she said helpfully. "Look straight out, take deep breaths."

Dr. Steel forcefully closed his eyes and rapidly gulped in air.

"Slower, slower," Americana said. "In-n-n, out."

"You beat... Queens of Steel. Thought I could... take over... the Nighthawks... rule this town."

"Well, we just found out how dumb that was, right?" Americana said with disgust.

The man was genuinely terrified, she scolded herself. Don't make it worse.

Satisfied that she had instilled the fear of God in him, Americana lowered them slowly toward the ground. It took a while, but she had already scared the poor man enough.

"Thought you said you led her here."

The four girls were outside, looking up and down the street; they were accompanied by the four gang leaders, now wearing their own jackets.

"Of course we did. Lookit all the damage, you idiot!"

"Watch who you're callin' an idiot!" a gang leader growled.

"Yes, although her point remains valid - yow!"

"Yiiiiii!"

Two of the lieutenants were now ten feet off the ground, held aloft by a metal pole shoved under the collars of their coats. The other two barely had time to register what had happened before they, too, were thrust into the air.

"What the he- ooomph!"

A thick metal pole wrapped around the four girls and pinned them to the poles on which the gang-bangers now hung.

Almost as one, they stared at the heroine who had ended their argument.

"Americana."

"Oh, shit."

She stood with hands on her hips. Beside her lay the body of Dr. Steel.

The great Dr. Steel had fainted.

"You boys and girls obviously haven't gotten the message," she said crossly. "This city doesn't belong to the Nighthawks. It will never. Belong to the Nighthawks."

The sirens of approaching prowl cars could be heard in the distance - cars she had called.

"This city is under my protection.

"Get used to it."