Dressed in shorts and a ball cap, Alan Free doesn't appear to be bound for the pulpit. Throw in some sandals and beard stubble, and Free looks more like he's bound for the streets.

On Wednesday evenings, at least, the 48-year-old minister at Cup of Christ Mission is dressed appropriately, since he and a group of others take their ministry there.

Calling themselves the Prayer Warriors, 15 to 20 devotees gather at the brick church on West Brady Street to pray, then set out to walk neighborhoods reputed as havens for drugs.

"We see drug activity every day of the week," said Troy Daniels, 33, who serves as Free's intern pastor.

"I could take you right now to a parking lot that has a loaded heroin needle in a drain," he added. "A kid could pick up the grate."

Daniels said the group walks within about a mile of the church, praying near sites where they have seen signs of drug activity or where others have requested they pray. A former music minister at the Free Methodist Church on Center Avenue, Free occasionally carries his trumpet along, sometimes playing it at the sites.

As a resident of the neighborhood, Daniels has spent considerable time walking without the group, which formed shortly after the church began in December.

"I walk everywhere every day," he said. "I see things the police don't."

Daniels said many neighbors now greet him, some calling him Buttondown because of the shirts he often wears.

"I talk to everybody," Daniels said.

"I'll be: 'Hey. How you doin? I'm Troy. We've got church services. Come how you are.'"

The Prayer Warriors recently got red T-shirts that display their logo, which includes a crest with two lions.

"Somebody commented the lions were aggressive," Free said. "I said drug dealers are aggressive also. We need to be aggressive with our prayers."

Daniels said aggression itself is absent from the group's purpose, which includes no political agenda. Instead, they seek help from a higher power in reducing violence and drugs.

"We have people that don't believe in prayer or don't do prayer," Daniels said. "We do prayer for them."

When the group prayed on Fourth Avenue last week, Daniels was hailed down by one woman who asked him for help with her boyfriend, an addict.

But others on the same block shouted obscenities after the group prayed near a house the neighbors said was wrongly pegged.

"You can't go off halfcocked on families you don't know for certain," said Sherri McKibbin, who said a child in the house was traumatized by the implication his mother does drugs.

"This is just a single mom and her two little girls," McKibbin added.

Daniels said the group doesn't question the validity of prayer requests that come from churchgoers and friends, and the unrehearsed prayers are not accusatory. Daniels said the prayers are typically phrased to ask for help in a preventative way. Many of the prayers occur near apartment complexes with visible signs of drug use, he added.

George Schroth, who owns Butler Custom Catering on Wayne Street, said the group approached him last winter asking permission to pray in his parking lot — which sits near rental housing.

Schroth said at first he feared their presence would arouse conflict, but that has not resulted.

"I have no idea how much (good) it's going to do," Schroth said.

"If it gets to somebody's conscience across the street, it does some good. If not, it makes the people doing it feel better," Schroth said.

"The only thing you can hope is that something good comes out of it," he added.

Mayor Maggie Stock, who was visited last week by members of the group, agreed.

"I thanked them for their interest in the community," Stock said. "They're looking at some of the areas that are neglected, ignored — where some of the residents have problems that some of us don't understand."

"I really appreciate what the churches do to help out residents who could use a little extra boost."

With the potential for hostile reactions to their presence, Stock advised the group to notify police of their whereabouts. But Daniels said his faith overrides his fear of violence.

Both men said the church was started to serve the neighborhood it occupies and many of its troubled residents.

Calling their activities "planting seeds," Free and Daniels say true success would include filling up the pews with people plagued with drug and alcohol problems.

"There are certain people that need a little bit of extra prayer," Daniels said.

The pastors say weekend services at Cup of Christ draw anywhere from two to 20 people. Although a donation plate is displayed in the sanctuary, it never is passed during services.

Free, who subsidizes the church, is a student at the Butler Bible Institute. Daniels is a former cab company owner from Ohio. The men say their goal is to host a Sunday community meal at the church, which is often open and staffed on weekdays. They are planning a youth program for the summer.

Services are held at 11 a.m. and 7 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays.