OT 2004-2009

Original Timeline stories published from 2004-2009

Tuesday, 06 June 2023 04:20

Darklight 1: A Darklight Burning Brightly (Part 8)

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I was nervous. I'll admit that. Maybe even a little bit frightened. This was my first time breaking the law, well breaking the law with intent. If everything went right and according to plan I'd be a criminal, of the international variety. It sounds impressive doesn’t it?

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A Darklight Burning Brightly

A Whateley Academy Fan Fic

by

Solus Nova

Part 8

 

I was nervous. I'll admit that. Maybe even a little bit frightened. This was my first time breaking the law, well breaking the law with intent. If everything went right and according to plan I'd be a criminal, of the international variety. It sounds impressive doesn’t it?

It's not. Having to sneak into my country of birth because I'd been kidnapped sounds slightly odd. As a mutant it was illegal for me to travel internationally without a Mutant ID Card. Sure I could have walked into a US embassy and told them what happened to me but that would mean trusting the system to behave in a rational manner. Then you add the MCO into the mix.

As my lawyer had pointed out when I got my newly altered ID the longer I could avoid being noticed and having to test how good a fake it was, the better it would be. Fake IDs are best when not used but allowed to cook for few years. My new ID was so fresh you could smell it. Worse yet I was a minor, that was a whole other problem, but I had a solution, the Syndicate. I know I mention them alot but they have lots of experience getting shit done and not getting caught. The last bit is very important to me.

So I logged into the local Syndicate travel agent site and made the arrangements and paid the fee, and that was that. Then I went shopping.

In my opinion I already had enough clothes to last until I graduated from university. Three of the members of the Four Furies had taken me shopping several times. Fragment and HeadCase had mostly managed to keep Lady Dee's tendency to buy clothes that followed the philosophy 'less is more' out of my wardrobe. Of course what those three considered simple and practical did not match my idea. I was even more shocked when I was told that I'd need to shop for clothes when I got settled. Which lead to a very long discussion about fashion, makeup, and colours etc. Is there a spreadsheet for this stuff somewhere, please?

One of the things I really wanted, no needed, was a phone. So I got a top of the line phone, then got another, then finally I broke down and got what I really wanted, a BlackBerry. Then a quick detour to certain shop to install some new hardware and software and presto a BlackestBerry, which is how I ended up reading my now really secure email in the Royal Karedonia International Airport that contained detailed, in only the way a lawyer could detail, travel instructions and plans. The usual stuff was there, who to bribe and how much, which agents would be on the take and when those agents would be at work, secure lodgings that sort of thing. I had really debated getting Escape Insurance just in case, but in the end since I wasn't planning a life of crime I passed.

Another email was from Polly, she and rest of the Furies had gotten a job working out of the country, a bodyguard gig, which meant henching for the big boss. Good for them, henching is good paying work, and usually safer as the heroes are busy gunning for number one and willing to let the flunkies cut and run. She left me a secure email address so that I could drop them a word if I needed to. Reading between the lines it sounded like the vacation was over what with Loli acting out everyone wanted to get back to work and back into the old routine. Maybe going back to work would settle Loli down was Polly's hope. Yeah right, after meeting her I understood Mom's rule about never working with crazies.

While waiting for my flight I amused myself by watching the tourists, the veterans that had been here before they didn't even blink at the weapon counter where you could pick up your death rays that didn't fit in the overhead compartments. The Dalek robo-cops caused quite a few double takes, one little girl had a nervous breakdown at the sight of the scary metal monsters, I guessed that family was from the UK. Americans just don't freak that bad at the sight of a robot killing machine that looks like a salt and pepper shaker. I nearly pee'd myself laughing when a blue and pink Dalek rolled over and started scolding the normal security Daleks for scaring the little girl. The girl ended up riding around the lobby on the 'friendly' Dalek screaming with joy as they chased down the 'mean' Daleks.

“It's good PR when you think about it.” That came from some dude sitting across from me in the terminal. I gave him a good look. No I wasn't checking him out. He was obviously in the biz, not many people travel in black and red Gothic plate armour with all kinds of mystic glowing symbols. The woman with him was playing up the 'evil sorceress' with the creepy staff, cloak, black steel corset, high double split skirt, her evil image was slightly wrecked by the 'Modern Bride' magazine she was looking through with a dreamy smile.

All of us looked up as the little girl let out a squeal of disappointment as her parents dragged her away from the Daleks that where now her 'bestest friends ever', the woman covered up a giggle at the antics of the little girl.

At my look and raised eyebrow he popped the helm off of his armour and gave me a friendly nod before introducing himself, “Lord Butcher and my wife Lady Pain.” He was blonde and massively handsome, which went well with Lady Pain's dark hair and dark temptress looks. Both looked like they should be just getting out of university and trying to figure out how to pay back the student loans.

I responded, “Kory.” With a nod and friendly smile. By using just my mundane name I was telling him that I wasn't in the biz actively, but that I knew the rules.

“Are you alone dear?” That was from Lady Pain. She must've seen something in my face to that question because her face became more sympathetic. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry.”

“Uh yeah I was down here to take care of some family business, real estate stuff.” In the world of black masks 'real estate' means buying the farm, family business meant it was personal.

Lady Pain gave me a concerned look, “Call me Glenda dear. I hope things improve for you.”

I nodded in response, by offering her normal name Glenda was saying this would be a friendly conversation, between normal people, not parties in the biz. Anyways I quickly changed the subject before I got all weepy. “What did you mean by good PR Lord Butcher?”

Lord Butcher was about to respond when he noticed the glare Glenda was giving him. “Please call me Alric my dear.” At my smile and nod he continued. “Gizmatic knows if his setup here scares kids, it'll upset the parents, and he's trying to reform himself so he wants people to have happy memories. A gang of scary robots humiliated for scaring a child? By another robot, that's pure gold. Also while here she'd be more likely to respond in a positive way to the cops out there if needed.” He gave a wave to the rest of Karedonia.

“Or maybe Gizmatic has a soft spot for kids?” I said.

We all looked at each other and went 'Naaw' at the same time. Glenda started to giggle at that and I found myself joining her. It was a good icebreaker, too good. I found myself pulled into her orbit while they waited for their wyverns to clear customs. I was told you just can't leave tame wyverns at home alone or they get all depressed at being abandoned, go off their feed and won't spit caustic venom for weeks after. Who knew?

The two of them had come here to see about having a big formal wedding sometime next year. Alaric had promised Glenda a big fancy wedding, dress, cake, reception the whole nine yards when they got married on the run 2 years ago. Right now it was still in the planning stage Glenda told me over discussing dresses. They needed to know how much it would cost before planning the robberies to pay for it all. Supervillain romance is kinda sweet in a felony way I guess. From there I was pulled in to discussing wedding dresses, bridesmaid dresses, guest lists, the whole nine yards.

I tried to pass of my total ignorance in all things wedding related as 'never really thought about it' and 'it's your special day I don't want to ruin it with a bad idea' those lines worked best, honestly I just had to go along with her ideas and nod. Although I did suggest white leather, lace and silver jewelry for the wedding dress, with black leather, lace and black steel chains for the bridesmaids. That wasn't really my idea, I just imagined what Lady Dee would suggest and added more material to the dresses. I should've kept my mouth shut because Glenda LOVED! the idea and was then talking about silver barbed wire for the jewelry with rubies to look like drops of blood. Alaric was muttering about needing two years to steal enough to pay for it all.

Me? I ended up getting an invite to the wedding, sharing contact info, the whole thing. I had to remind Glenda that I was a little too young for the bachelorette party, but that didn't work, I was told since I was old enough to be charged as an adult, I should be treated as one and besides what cop would try to raid a bachelorette party with 40 plus supervillainesses (is that a word?) all of them in high spirits and drunk. I then tried begging off as I wasn't a black mask, nor did I plan to be, that was shot down by the statement that I was 'close enough' and I had a year to get my career started if that really worried me, Glenda even offered to set me up with a few easy jobs. I got away only when my flight was called.

I was shown to my seat and I just sat there, my head spinning. Glenda, Lady Pain, had just opened up to me like we were old friends and I responded. It was like with Norika back on the sub. I mean we didn't share anything vital, no access codes to our lairs that kinda thing, but it was nice. As I guy I would have never just done what she did, I'd just sit there and maybe grunt if someone asked me something. You know the whole 'silent but cool' guy thing.

It has to be different for female supervillains, it can't always be like this. As I sat there I thought about my Mom and her friends, it was I guess sorta the same thing. When Mom had been really active in the biz she had alot of friends, when I was younger I remember them dropping by and just hanging out, no warning, no plan, why? Was this another female thing? Would I have to become this overly giddy extrovert?

Or was it because there are fewer female supervillains? Was the fact that you were a woman AND a black mask make you part of this really secret sisterhood society? It made a kinda sense I thought, like being a woman in the military, no matter who, or where, you knew that this other woman in the skin tight leather and whips was one of you, and had to deal with all the crazy cape stuff plus the usual crap. I remembered De@thAmp always bitching about her lightning powers ruining her nails, who else but another villainess would get that. Well a superhero would maybe, but I can't see the hero and villain sharing makeup tips in the back of a police wagon. Something to think about, and worry about later. I had more immediate worries.

I wasn’t worried about the flight, Mr Copper my lawyer, had arranged everything he said. Not to worry he said once you are on the plane everything will be fine. Just keep flying and making my connections.

I'll tell you a secret to travelling without getting hassled. Get hassled by professionals only, and travel first class. Which was why I was in a first class seat on El Al, the Israeli national airline. El Al has the most paranoid security for a commercial airline. Period. They don't even let other countries agents search the luggage of an El Al passenger without a security agent from El Al present. That makes it very hard for a cop on the take to plant something in your luggage. Or for the MCO to 'find' something that you didn't pack.

So I wasn't worried about getting to where I was going I was worried about being on a plane with only one small meal for the entire flight. This could be bad, very bad.

It wasn't as bad as I feared. I wasn't using any of my powers so that dropped my food requirements down to the high end of normal. I tried to sleep as much as I could. Then race for the restaurant at my stops, gorge myself and repeat.

To get from Karedonia to my destination of Baltimore took me 26 hours of connections, delays, running to make those connections. Next time I'll mail myself Fed-Ex. However my trail was now completely muddled, no way, no how would anyone be able to track my travels. Some fancy contact lenses to hide my UV colored eyes and I walked through the Baltimore airport at the height of it's operation.

Another tip, do not try to arrive at slow times. You stand out, also try to be in a line with people that are causing problems, families with loud bratty children and bitchy moms are great for this. After a nightmare like that all you have to do is be pleasant, maybe express some sympathy, and keep it short and so will the TSA goons. It worked like a charm, I was disappointed that I didn't have to bribe anyone.

A short cab ride later and I was staying at a small hotel in downtown Baltimore that had an under the counter deal with the local super crooks. I was here. I was alone. But I had stuff I needed to do, like eat, real food in real portions, not portions that would starve an anorexic supermodel with a drug habit.

****

I spent the remainder of the week doing the tourist teen thing. It was so good to be back in the USA, where MickeyD's and Burger Thing ruled. I'd never been to Baltimore before in my life but it still felt right in an odd way that Karedonia, no matter how much I liked it, didn't. As for why I spent a week doing nothing, that was because I could. I was still shakey at times, in a crowd, alone in my room, sometimes I'd feel the panic, fear and rage coming back but it was better. Keep telling myself that.

Also I had to get used to being a hot girl in public, I'm used to not being noticed as the old male me. The new female me stood out, no matter how much I dressed down. Which was not good in this kind of situation, you end up wondering, then worrying, then nearly panicking as you feel all these eyes on you. I had to keep reminding myself that being watched did not mean being watched by the cops, the feds, MCO etc.
One of my reasons for coming back to here, to Baltimore, was Mom had listed in her accounts a company called Secure Storage, and how much she was paying them a year. Which was a lot of cash. I'd never heard of them and I was wondering just what was in storage. I had visions of gold, jewels, that sort of thing. Which is how I ended up waiting in a very posh lobby of some high rise business bored out of my skull as I kept waiting, and waiting, and still waiting. After harassing the receptionist for the umpteenth time I was again told that someone would be with me 'shortly'. I timed them, almost an hour. That's shortly? Maybe on a geologic scale, but not to a teenager, to us the word shortly means 'why not ten minutes ago? I have stuff to do.'

Also I was not impressed with the guy they sent to talk to me, average height, brown, brown, power suit and nose in the air. After two seconds of watching him I filed him as 'smarmy bastard', which he confirmed by undressing me with his eyes as he walked over. I'll admit I was very casually dressed for this place what with jeans and tee-shirt, a backpack and ballcap rounded things out. But still.

“Yes young lady how can I help you?” He didn't sneer, quite but it was close.

“By being here sooner would be nice.” That made him blink. Teens for all our bravado, in this situation wouldn't be so aggressive. But what the hell, he had pissed me off by making me wait, undressing me with his eyes, and by not even looking at my face, just my breasts. Asshole. Which reminds me I need to apologize to a few girls at my former schools somehow, someway. Karma is a bitch, I realize that now, that I am one the women that get ogled by sleazy guys.

“Also you could try to look me in the eye, I realize that a little boy like you has a boobie fixation but try to act professional, or at least wipe the drool off of your chin,” There was a sound like a quickly strangled laugh that came from the receptionist. “Or is that your thing? Playing power games with teenage girls.” I watched as his face reddened. More with anger than embarrassment.

“You little...” He got himself under control before he said something that he would've regretted. “Get out or I'll call security.”

“Go ahead. Call them. I'll make a big scene, and take my accounts elsewhere. And file a complaint with your boss.” I tried to do the glare thing that I'd seen my Mom do. By the look on his face I wasn't as impressive as she was. “I called ahead, was told just drop in anytime, I confirmed that someone would meet me that would be able to help, and the people that run the company send you. Not a good impression.”

He got redder, looking over his shoulder at the receptionist he snapped, “Call security now!”

“Jonathan what seems to be the problem here?”

I managed not to start as a voice spoke behind me. I turned to look and found myself looking at a short man, olive complexion, dark curly hair with a short beard, looked at me with an amused look. I thought he looked like that 'Mr. Monk' guy in an expensive suit.

Jonathan snapped back at the new guy, “Getting rid of a trespasser...Eli.”

“Really? I believe the young lady said she called ahead and was invited to drop by whenever it is convenient to her. So Jonathan, obviously if she was invited logically she can not be a trespasser. Even is she is a trifle blunt, maybe even bordering on rude that is no reason to have her removed from the premises.” The smarmy bastard looked like he was going to say something, but instead muttered something and stalked off.

“I'm sorry about that my dear, but Jonathan does have one thing going for him that keeps him employed here no matter how big an ass he makes of himself.” At my look he dryly responded, “His father.” At that comment the poor receptionist had another coughing fit.

Eli Bajada as he introduced himself quickly restored my faith in the organization, telling me that his company provided secure off site storage for anything anyone could want stored. Once he verified my account numbers, and called my lawyer to verify me he was quite happy to show me to Mom's treasure trove. He even mentioned that all items that they secured were insured and a standing bounty in the seven figure range was offered for anyone that robbed them. Per head. If the head was still attached to a breathing body it was then only worth a six figure bounty. So far Eli told me no one had tried to rob them and gotten away clean. With that kinda of reward offered no wonder. All in all he delivered a sales pitch without making it seem like a sales pitch.

Which led me to a big vault door with all kinds of magickal symbols on it, hatches in the room implied that heavy weapons could pop out at any moment. One key turn later and I was entering a long combination hoping that I wrote down the numbers correctly. Nothing exploded, shot me or stuff like that so at Eli's nod I opened the vault door.

I don't know what I expected but a doorway made of darkness wasn't one of them. Eli told me that the vault was linked magicakly to the doorway and I should go inside. When I wanted to leave just leave by the door marked exit.

The area that I ended up in was normal, an extra wide hallway with an exit door at the end. There was a total of three doors leading off of the hall. The first room was just normal, it was like a bank vault with safety deposit boxes. I checked out a few I'll admit, the most normal thing other than paper money was more than a few rolls of gold coins, Krugerrands I think. The others contained some jewellery none of which I recognized, just that they looked fancy. I had no idea how much money was in this vault, so I just settled for the lump sum of 'lots'. A few other of the boxes had odd items or gizmos in them, more stuff I didn't recognize again, well Mom did have packrat tendencies, just like me, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.

The room across from the first one was much larger and half filled with wine bottles, I've got no idea why. I mean sure Mom drank but not this much. Who the hell needs hundreds if not thousands of bottles of wine anyway? It was strange it was like I was getting to see part of my Mom that I didn't know existed, it just didn't fit the mental image of her that I had, I had no way to process it.

There was only one door left, I wondered what could be behind it, rare art? Superweapons? At this point nothing would surprise me.

I got surprised. And not in a good way.

The last room was a perfect match for my dead sister's room, all her furniture, her stuffed toys, clothes all of it laid out exactly the same as when Val died. She even saved Val's posters. The only things that were different I numbly noted was at her desk, Val's diary was opened as if someone was reading it and been interrupted. Next to the diary was a woman's large leather shoulder bag, I looked inside it wondering what else I might find. A laptop, some CDs, and several leather notebooks, and a bunch of rather normal stuff.

Val's diary drew my attention next, it was open to a page with a date a few days before she was kidnapped and killed. The writing was faded and smudged but I could still read it. I didn't want to but I just had to read it. It was so Val, complaining about this and that, worrying if we'd have to leave town on the run before some big dance that she was going to with someone named Brad, a guy that Mom hated. She complained about her bratty brother that wouldn't leave her alone. It ended with a reminder to herself to get a birthday present for Mom, to make up for some fight they had...

I had to stop, something was wrong with my eyes, I couldn't focus. I found my face wet with tears that I never noticed until just now. A few tears had dropped onto the pages of Val's diary, smearing the ink in a couple of places.

I felt a cold shiver run down my back. How many times had Mom done the exact same thing? Alot looking at the smudges on the page. I flipped through the rest of the diary seeing the odd smudge from Mom's tears on other pages.

I don't know how long I sat there but I felt stiff, and emotionally wrecked when I got up. I stood up heading for the door carrying the diary with me but I had to stop. I couldn't take it with me it belonged here, with Mom and Val. I carefully put it back exactly where I'd first seen it.

I carefully left that room. By the time I hit the door marked 'Exit' I was running at full speed as if all the demons in hell were on my heels. I ran all the way back to the hotel I was staying at and barely got out of bed for most of the weekend.

****

The signage I was staring at was just what I needed to shake my leftover blues. It appealed to my sense of the absurd.

'Honest Akbar's New Like Secondhand Emporium', 'Not Shallow Discounts On Anything', 'Nothing Is Worth Something To You'

The shop in question was a large warehouse that from the look of the place had last been renovated during the Vietnam war. Boards replaced the glass windows, the boards were protected by steel shutters that had started rusting and never been replaced and had finally just frozen in place. I couldn't tell what colour the paint was due to the mindblowing amount of graffiti, all in all the place looked like something you'd send SWAT in after the CDC gave an all clear.

Inside wasn't much better, anything and everything was crammed in here the isles were dangerously narrow with racks of material almost touching the ceiling. You ended up with the feeling that if you so much as bumped anything you'd be buried alive for all time. What looked like the end of the counter poked out from somewhere on my left.

As I approached the counter I saw my first sign of human life in the store. The guy at the counter looked so out of place I did a double take when I saw him. Huge but not hugely muscled, crew cut blonde hair, he wore a neat green tee shirt with khaki combat pants.

“Hello?” This was not what I was expecting.

“Yes how can I help you?” He had a faint accent that I couldn't place, maybe German?

“Uh, I'm looking for a Mr. Akbar, I need to see if he can fill an order for me. There might be a small problem with shipping he might be able to resolve.” The guy blinked at that, and gave me a hard look.
“I can help you Miss.” He smiled at that, “I handle all the orders here, we are a family business.”

“You don't look like an Akbar, no offence. Half brother?”

He didn't take offence at that, just blinked and smiled a little more and replied, “Mr Akbar is my cousin. So it's all in the family.” He looked at something under the counter. “We are clean. Are you the client?”

I nodded, “So who came up with the little speech there? Very Mission Impossible. Um, you know what never mind. Take me to your leader.”

With that he led me to a door marked 'Employee Only' and down a flight of stairs. The basement was more of the same stuffed with anything you could think of, I even saw what looked like an old Army Jeep up on blocks.

The boss of this little business was in the very back in a chain link cage, inside the cage several sofas and chairs were arranged against the walls and occupied with several tough looking types built like the guy I'd just met. Only with guns. I looked at the guns hard, it was not a good sign, the open display of weapons meant this would not be the friendly meeting I hoped it would be. Which bothered me because all the arrangements had already been made before I had left Karedonia. Which meant the arrangements had been changed without telling me.

The biggest guy, and he was big in every sense of the word, he looked like the offspring of a beer keg and an extra hairy gorilla, gave me a fake smile. “You are the client, yes?” His eyes gleamed as he looked me over, was he expecting to shake me down because I was a girl, or a kid, or was it both I wondered.

“You must be Akbar, what's with the hardware? We had a deal.” Everyone had guns, that was good it meant they depended on them. I wasn't bulletproof just bullet resistant without my shields up but I could get them up damn fast.

“There is a new deal, your...agent didn't give us all the information. The job has a much higher fee because of that, and the higher risks.”

“Bullshit. We gave you everything you needed to do the job. And paid in full plus twenty percent for speed.” Ok this was looking like a shakedown. Unexpected, although Akbar wasn't Syndicate he was a trusted, ok, maybe not trusted, but a reliable third party.

“The deal did not include weapons. We were told nothing dangerous. Now the Feds are involved.”

“What the hell...” That made no sense...shit! “Oh crap. I know what happened.” All of a sudden this made more sense, alot more sense. This was just a big screwup. Like everything else in my life.

Akbar and his goons looked unimpressed by my sudden realization. But he motioned me to continue to explain.

“This is so dumb. Ok the property that I wanted you to recover is evidence in a crime. A home invasion,” My old home to be picky but they didn't need to know that. “There was a boy that lived there that had an odd hobby...”

Akbar interrupted, “Shooting down airplanes?” he asked sarcastically. He blinked at my response.

“Close, but no. This boy was into sport rocketry, he made and flew his own home built rockets.” I just knew what was coming next.

“He played with toy rockets?” Akbar laughed, after a few seconds so did his men.

Yup, there it is, tell anyone you are into rocketry as a hobby and it's big laugh, the space cadet jokes start flying and they are never, ever, forgotten.

“If by toy you mean break the sound barrier, and reach six kilometers in altitude.” Ok I had help building that one rocket, and the chute didn't work, but I still I was damn proud of it. That stopped the laughing at least. “I'll bet the cops saw the tools, chemicals and rockets and panicked and called the Feds.”

Akbar just sat there staring at me, after a minute he looked to his goon squad and nodded. Then the guns didn't go away but the goons seemed to relax a bit. I didn't relax, it was a start in the right direction, but I was still expecting, I dunno something. This Akbar character was just giving me a bad vibe.

“If that is as you say Miss?” Yeah like I was going to give this guy my name, hmm maybe...

“Call me Darklight.”

Akbar chuckled, “You must be very stupid or brave girl, there is already a Darklight, and you are not her.”

I just gave him a thin smile, and brought up my force field. As I did that I removed the contacts that covered my glowing purple slash UV eyes. Then I created some wisps of power from my finger tips. I really hoped I could keep my voice under control for this part.

“The original Darklight won't object to my use of her name. Since she's dead.” The implication that I claimed the name over Mom's dead body was there, and it would give me some cred with these creeps. “If you don't believe me, well go ahead and shoot. I'll laugh, then kill anyone that tried to shoot me, get a full refund from you Akbar, and have you blacklisted in the biz. I'll kill your rep and leave you alive with everyone knowing you are a ripoff artist that chickens out at the first sign of trouble.”

One of the goons took a chance and went for his gun. Dammit. I didn't want to hurt anyone but maybe a little violence now would keep the ultraviolence from happening. Using that thought as a half assed hope and a prayer I twisted gravity and slammed the trigger happy goon into the chain link fence. Something might have broken in his body I couldn't be sure but I had to play out this scene. “That was five Gees worth of gravity, want to try for 50 Gees? It'll make a mess.” Pure bluff on my part, so far five Gees and a hair was my limit.

Akbar's goons all had their guns out and pointed at me but Akbar was yelling for them not to shoot. After a few seconds they slowly put the guns away, I dropped Mr. Trigger Happy as gently as I could. Ok I've beaten them all with a stick, now the carrot. “You are right Akbar.” He blinked at that. “If the Feds are involved that does make your job harder. For that I apologize. I thought at first this was a simple shakedown since I'm just a kid in everyone's eyes.”

He grunted at that, then shrugged, “I may have been a little heavy handed myself. Can we start over?”

“No.” He started at that and began to speak but I kept talking, “What I can do is up the amount we agreed on by an extra ten grand. That's a hard number I'm afraid, my finances are not as...liquid as I'd like. I'd like to haggle with you but that's my limit right now.”

He looked at me, good luck reading my face with my force field making it seem I was wrapped in dark fog, and slowly nodded. “It is not ideal. It is harder to get evidence from the Feds storage. Not impossible but it will cost more in bribes. That is the problem. It lowers my margins even with an extra ten thousand, and if there are any problems I'll be working at a loss in this case.” He frowned. “There are always problems. I'm sorry Miss, uh Darklight, I will have to pass on the job, I will refund the fee minus expenses already incurred...” He stopped has I held up my hand. The goons looked nervous at that, so I tried to smile in an easy manner. I really wanted to keep this friendly.

“What about this instead, I'll get you the extra ten grand, then you do the job, and you hold on to the stuff until I can move some assets around. Then I give you another ten grand when I get the stuff back and I release the balance of the fee from escrow? It takes you a little longer to get paid, but you'll end up with an extra twenty grand all totalled.” This was going to hurt my wallet. Alot. On the bright side I would have an excuse not to go shopping for clothes for the next few months. Putting off a trip to the female hell of shopping that was waiting for me seemed like a good idea.

“Twenty grand extra, hmm, yes I can do that. Even if I need to spend more money than I planned it will still leave me with a tidy profit. How soon can you get the extra money?”

“That might be a problem. I might have issues with my ID that I'd have to use to access the money in the States. The extra 10 grand, very likely today. The other 10 grand? Next month at the earliest. I have to be careful using my ID for any transaction that the Feds might track.” Also I had no idea if I could even get a bank to give me my money as money. Damn being a kid is harder than it looks. Hell with the way my life was going lately it might be easier to just rob a bank than do it honestly. How's that for irony?

Akbar just leaned back and looked at me, then looked over to his man that I had slammed against the wall. “How about this I'll start the job, when you have the money to pay me in cash. I turn over the property, you release the escrow codes once you verify that the items have been recovered?” He stood and held out his hand to me. “Deal? We both give up something to get something.”

I had brief moment of paranoia, did he want to shake my hand so I'd drop my force field so his men could shoot me? The odd thing about being a crook is you have to be honest and trust people. I dropped my shields and went to shake his hand. He surprised me by kissing my hand instead. What the hell! I had a brief 'OMG he's gay! Does he think I'm gay!?' moment before I remembered that I was now a girl. Still it was good that I was frozen in shock or I would have snatched my hand back so fast I'd have likely ripped Akbar's arm off.

Still he likely noticed my surprise at the gesture. “That was unexpected, my good sir.” I said in a fake 'posh' accent. Thank gawd for all those roleplaying LARP games that I messed with a few years ago. He just grinned I had the feeling he knew I was startled and was covering, still yet another nail in the freaky column that's my life. My life now. Why did this shit have to happen to me? Or more accurately why does this shit keep happening to me? Did I inherit Mom's karma as well as her powers?

Anyways I got out of there without being shot, or having to injure or kill anyone, uh anyone else. Making my way back to my hotel, once there I emailed Mr. Copper about what happened and the new arrangements that I'd made with Akbar. I didn't expect a response anytime soon, I knew I wasn't one of his priority clients, but at least I could get the first part of the money. If the bank freaked at the idea of a teenager withdrawing ten grand I could sic my lawyer on them. If they got really bitchy I could use some of Mom's stash of gold coins I guess. Akbar didn't seem like the type to turn down gold.

So Plan A, go begging to get my own money so I could pay to get my old stuff back, and Mom's stuff. Once I've got it back figure out what to keep and what I can toss. Then ship the stuff I wanted to someplace while I tried to figure out where I could live. Going to school didn't appeal to me, let's face it when you are the son, uh, daughter of a supervillain, all school is boring, just a place to lay low and blend in with the masses.

I could go back to Karedonia, kick back there for a few years then join up with the Four Furies, I could take up Lady Pain on her offer to get me started as a supervillain. That life really didn't appeal to me, I suspected I'd be good at it based on how much I already knew about the black mask lifestyle, but the downsides to that life are pretty big as well.

 

Being a mutant as well as the...child... of a supervillain made a normal future near impossible, hating mutants was one of the few acceptable prejudices that existed right now and that wasn't going away anytime soon I figured. So even if I got a normal life one slip up and I'm outed as a mutant then bad things happen.

Dammit. Ok let the future worry about the future, for now I have to worry about needing to convince a bank to let me have my own money. Bank robbery sounds better and easier the longer I think about this.

*****

Charter Holdings Bank
Wednesday, June 6th, 2007 11:31
Baltimore, Maryland.


Like most people my age my interactions with a bank were limited to ATM withdrawals and handing the mail to the parent. The idea of going out of your way to the place in the real world is a little odd. I have been in banks likely more than my peers, but in those cases it was stay away from the guards, avoid the security cameras and don't attract attention while Mom cleaned out her safe deposit box. After those visits it was time to burn the old IDs and collect the new IDs and then get used to a new last name. That was the extent of my banking experience.

So it was purely by habit that I wore a ballcap, sunglasses, and kept my head down and avoided looking at the renta-cops. Yeah that looks suspicious but I had a foolproof disguise. I was a girl, with a cellphone, all I had to do was look like I was texting and no one questioned why I never looked up and made eye contact. Ear phones made it look like I was listening to music so no one tried to talk to me, and if they did I could ignore them without looking like I was ignoring. Just another kid lost in her own world. Play to people's preconceptions and stereotypes and they'll file you with all the others like that which makes you blend in their memories. It's harder as a girl I had noticed, I seemed to attract attention no matter what I did. I don't know why I thought it would be easy, nothing about this life changing experience has been easy.

Still I was in the homestretch, that was a good thing right?

SRRREEECH!!

What sounded like a fleet of racecars raced around the bank, I turned to look wondering what the hell was making that sound as I turned a blur raced in the bank and shot around to all the security guards and knocked them every which way blurring around the lobby. Before the last guard hit the floor the blur had zipped back to the main doors, closed the doors and chained them up. Then raced to the centre of the lobby. Stopping to speak.

“Everyonethisisarobberynoonemovegetdownonthegroundcellphonesawayfromnowpeoplemove!!”

The robber resolved into a tall man dressed in a red and white bodysuit that looked like a high end version of motorcycle racing gear. Heavy silvery metal gauntlets and boots, a helmet made out of the same shiny metal with a half visor completed the basics. Strapped to this guy's legs he had what looked like some kind of high tech batons.

Everyone in the bank that wasn't groaning in pain just stared at this guy, which he didn't like because he gave another burst of near gibberish. “MovemovemovepeoplejustdowhatIsaynoworelse!!” Barely a second past before he spoke again. “Doitnowwhatareyouallstupidwhyaren'tyoulisteningtome!!”

Well crap, isn't this just perfect I thought. Why me, why is it always me, does someone up there get a kick out of screwing with my life? I was thinking the last thing I need is for the cops to show and this turns into a hostage situation, with cameras, reporters and all that crap. I had to get this situation under control if only to get this guy out of here so I could get out of here myself.

I yelled at the crook, “You are talking to fast we don't understand you! Speak slower!” That didn't help much as the guy blurred towards me and I found myself slammed into a chair thirty feet from where I'd been standing. My back and neck hurt like hell from that sudden acceleration, if I had been a normal human I'd suspect I'd be in traction for weeks after that.

“ListenfasterbitchI'minchargeyoudoasIsaynotIdoasyousay.” With that he whipped out one of those batons and rammed it into my stomach. It hurt, the physical blow at least. The electrical zap effect not so much, I just absorbed it used it fix my back and neck. I did remember at least to keep curled up in the chair as this idiot zipped over to the main group of people. This just keeps getting better and better, where are the rational crooks when you need them?

Welp this was really fucked up I thought to myself, between the moans of the injured security guards, the screams and whimpers of the customers and the high speed babel of the robber not much had been accomplished since he'd tossed me into the chair. On the plus side I had a nice view of the plaza that fronted the bank. On the downside I had a great view of the cops showing up. Only a couple of cars but the rest of the doughnut brigade couldn't be far behind. Which meant SWAT trucks, command trucks, and brass. Brass that would likely want to talk to the press to make sure the press knew who was responsible for bringing the 'deadly rampage under control' and 'making the city safe' and get seen doing crap so when they ran for elected office they'd have cred with the law and order vote. I'm sure there good cops out there just I've never seen any.

Still if motor mouth could get his act together and finish robbing the place, the cops would be chasing him, which would draw away the media, allowing me to slink off somewhere and try again. Sigh. If I'm going to help this idiot to get away with his robbery could I at least get paid for it? Ten percent isn't much to ask for right?

“Hey Skidmark! Better give up the cops are here!” He blurred over to the window, zipped back to me and smacked me a good one on the side of my face and screamed next to my ear.

“NonononocopsIsaidnocopsbastards!” With that he raced out of sight for second and was back before I could do anything. He zipped and forth, pacing I think then grabbed a guard, raced towards the doors and tossed the guard through the glass. The guard looked in a bad way from his job as a battering ram, Skidmark that was my name for this joker, kept on going smashing into the cops sending them flying and wrecking the cars. He then zipped around the plaza randomly wrecking shit and in less than thirty seconds the whole front of the bank looked like a war zone. I did see something interesting when he was wrecking the place objects near him acted oddly. I don't know what that meant but it was something to keep in mind. I'd hoped he just run off but no luck he zipped back into the bank again. What surprised me is two the civilians from the crowd ran towards the bank.

When they got to the bank they ran in after Skidmark, one pulled up a bandana to cover his face while pulling out a stubby submachine gun, the other just started handcuffing people with those plastic handcuffs he started pulling from a backpack. The guy with the cuffs looked pissed, I'm guessing Skidmark had jumped the gun, and these two where supposed to already be in the bank when this went down.

Well things got worse again. Out of nowhere a big MCO dropship had landed and was now just sitting on the edge of the plaza. A turret at the nose of the dropship covered the bank. Skidmark nearly had a full on meltdown at the sight of the MCO and was ranting and raging at them. He sounded like a cross between Alvin the Chipmunk and an angry mosquito. The guy with the gun just cursed and started emptying the tellers’ cash drawers.

This was getting bad, Skidmark was no longer in robbery mode from what I can tell. Which meant this would become a hostage situation. Usually the longer the hostage situation went on the better. More chances for a soft landing. With Skidmark longer wasn't an option, he was hyper, and had little idea of the passage of time. Playing a long game with him wouldn't work, he'd get bored, frustrated and paranoid at everything taking so long. Also he acted so fast he didn't seem to have second thoughts, dealing with this fruitloop by the book would be like dealing with a kid with ADHD on a sugar rush. His two flunkies were unknowns but they'd likely follow in Skidmark's wake. The guy with the handcuffs was acting like he knew what he was doing, but he didn't have a mask. That worried me, he knew what he was doing but didn't care about being ID'd or caught.

I noticed the MCO goon squad was setting up all around the plaza, the cops didn't look like they enjoyed the MCO barking orders and bossing the cops around. Double plus not good. The cops would worry about the people in the bank, the MCO would be fixated on the mutant in the bank, if another mutant, say me, was noticed well I'd be assumed to be with Skidmark and crew in the MCO's eyes, or collateral damage. Right now the MCO had numbers and firepower which meant that might made right and they were running the show. If this robbery went on longer the police would have more presence and they'd be in charge.

So how to make this go slowly when dealing with a hyper active speedster type? I had no idea, I could get his attention but every time I did he smacked me around. He didn't really hurt me. Much, but he or his lackeys might start wondering why I could take a beating so well. Worse the MCO or the cops might see him pounding on me a decide to save the hostage by attacking. That would turn this into a major bloodbath, fighting speedsters is no joke to anyone, they can do alot of damage without even trying too hard. The hardest thing to do in this situation would be to do nothing but that was the best play I thought, just wait out the crazy.

I just waited and watched for a few moments hoping against hope for a sudden outbreak of common sense. More cops had showed up, some of them looked competent and heavily armed, so I guessed SWAT was here. Good maybe they'd turf the MCO and resolve this whole situation in a calm and peaceful manner. Yeah right. Still if the MCO backed down it might calm Skidmark down, the speed freak really seemed to be bugged by the MCO. Did they have a history?

I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye coming in from the edge of the police/MCO lines. I had just enough time to go 'huh' before the main doors exploded. I ducked as I could hear pieces of the door's frame ricocheting around the bank's lobby, standing in the doorway was, wait for it, yes a superhero. Now things are really screwed.

I have a low opinion of superheroes, very low. Some of it comes from having a Mom that's a supervillain, family first and all that. Mostly because the heroes seem to get a pass from everyone else. Hero stops villain and in the process wrecks several buildings. Does the hero get blamed? No. Everything is the villains fault. Hero can't save the hostage? Villain’s fault even if the hero screwed up big time. Hell most of the hero types believe their own press about how cool they are. I have more respect for corrupt cops than your average hero. At least with dirty cops you know what to expect, and dirty cops have standards. Where as with most hero types the standard is 'Do you have a funny suit and name that wont get you sued?'

The figure that just did the dumb dynamic entry was familiar to me in a vague way, I'd seen him somewhere on TV lately, LaserHawk maybe, no that wasn't it or was it? The idiot was standing in the ruined doorway making some kind of speech while posing! He did look impressive, a white costume with gold trim that had a body armour vibe, gold gauntlets and boots, I could see he had some kind of golden frame that looked like the outline of wings on his back, the spaces in the wings were filled with what looked like solid light. A white helmet covered his head with a gold tinted half visor blocking his face.

And he seemed not to give a shit about the damage he just did, and I'm not talking about the bank. The metal and glass from his entry had mostly hit the lobby decor, but several people had been cut up by shrapnel and were now screaming. I was more concerned with a security guard that was now near me, she was looking at a piece of glass that had hit her just below her vest on her left side. She was muttering something as she tried to grab the glass shard, I just stared frozen as she half pulled it out of her before passing out, the blood from the wound started spreading faster.

The smart thing would be just stay out of the way, maybe below a desk nearby, wait for the two idiots to finish beating on each other and give my statement to the cops and slip away. Since all this shit has happened to me it feels like I haven't done one smart thing. Why start now? I dove from the chair I was still in, my enhanced strength let me cover the fifteen feet or so to the security guard in one quick move. I got there at the same time as another security guard rolled over to her. His hands were bound up by those plastic hand cuff things I noticed.

“Hands!” I shouted to him, he didn't get it so I reached out to him and grabbed his hands, as he tried to twist out of my grip, his eyes widened in shock when he realized how strong I was. His eyes just kept getting bigger as I ripped the cuffs apart freeing him. “Can you help her?” I shouted. He got over his shock fast I'll give him that.

“Yeah! Help me get this vest off...” He went back to shock as I ripped the vest apart. Then he went to work.

While I was helping the fight had gone badly. The hero couldn't hit Skidmark, he was just too fast but he kept trying, firing blast after blast of what looked like more of the solid light stuff that made up his flight gear. The bank's lobby was suffering from being used as a backstop. Both these idiots were yammering away while dodging, blasting and in Skidmark's case throwing things at high speed. One of Skidmark's flunkies was down I noticed, the one with the cuffs was moving slowly, it looked like he was having a hard time doing anything. That left the guy with a gun.

It's always the one you lose track off that does the most damage, that was one of the lessons I'd learned from training with the Four Furies in Karedonia.

Sure enough the gun-flunky popped up down at the end of the counter and emptied the clip in the general direction of the bank, I have no idea what the gun was but it sprayed alot of bullets in a few seconds. Most of his shots missed, a few didn't, two more people dropped, one yelling and screaming, the other just lay there. Not good.

The hero type blasted the counter with a blast of solid light wrecking the surface. He missed the gun-flunky by inches as the gun-flunky scrambled to reload. Skidmark took the second of distraction to hammer the hero, LightStrike maybe something like that, with a blur of punches that staggered the hero, Skidmark kept the beating going knocking the hero around the bank.

I saw the guy with the gun pop up again, I really didn't want to do it but I really didn't want this nut to spray the bank again. Cursing my luck I brought up my force field at the same time I englobed his gun arm with a blob of my dark matter. It didn't stop him from firing, I could feel the first few bullets hit my construct as they left the barrel. Then I felt a bigger blast and dropped the construct.

Eww.

The gun had blown up inside the globe I'd made, all the force and chunks of metal had been contained in the construct. Gun flunky's hand was now hamburger with metal chunks, he just stared at it then started screaming. Skidmark must've seen this because he broke off hammering the hero, zipped to me and hammered me hard. I've taken a few hits, ok more than a few hits, but this was bad. I don't know how many times he struck me but towards the end I was flying out through the window seeing stars.

I just lay there stunned for a few seconds trying to gather my wits. As I got to my feet hoping the ringing in my head would fade I noticed that I was the centre of attention for the cops and MCO oh so not good, what was worse is I knew I was being filmed. So much for keeping a low profile dammit. I hoped the cops grabbed me, that was the best chance I now had.

“Surrender villain!!” A voice trumpeted behind me just full of truth, justice and self righteousness. Crap, crap, crap I thought, this cannot be happening. I turned to see the hero exiting the ruined bank with a grim look on his face and an arm outstretched towards me.

Shit! I started to raise my hands, at the same time I brought up the strongest shield I could. “I'm not...!” Was as far as I got before he opened fire.

His blast was powerful, stronger than anything I'd stopped before, it was like it was sandblasting my defences, eroding them. I poured more of my power into it as I was driven to my knees. I started to drain the energy in the beam, reinforcing my shields, even that was hard. The light beam that this guy was using it was like it was energy one instant then not in the next. Still I got enough energy from the attack to keep from frying.

I gasped with relief as the terrible pressure cut off.

“You will not escape me villain!” He advanced towards me readying another blast. “You will not escape justice!”

On that perfect line I did the first smart thing I did since this nightmare began I ran.


NOW

Friday, July 13th, 2007 4:12
Baltimore, Maryland
FBI Safehouse


“That's pretty much it Agent Bane, you know the rest.” This time I had kept an eye on him, he didn't move during the story. He did blink however. That didn't make me feel any better. He still bothered me on some level.

“I noticed you changed a few details Kory. Nothing too major and nothing I need to involve myself in. Don't worry we all need the illusion of secrets, and I have no interest in destroying your illusions.”

“Gee thanks. I think. So what now? Am I going to be arrested?”

“Very likely, the MCO locally might be too worried to make such a move, however more senior members of the MCO are beginning to make moves in that direction. Likely criminal charges will be used to discredit you as a witness against Weems.” Bane's eyes never left my face although I had the feeling he was seeing something else. “If your testimony can be discredited then Weems may avoid charges himself, which means he won't turn on his bosses. He already has a dream team of lawyers working for him.” Bane's expression turned grim, “The irony is you might be the best witness for the defence.”

I was shocked that sick freak was going to get away with all the shit. “No fucking way. How the hell could this...ARGH! This is why I never trust the system!” I might go to jail but Weems would go free? My head spun thinking about it.

“Kory you are right, never trust a system, but trust the people that work for the system. Do you trust me Kory?” Bane's eyes had locked on mine, it was looking into two pools of still blue water.

I froze just looking at him. I thought about it hard.

I nodded slowly.

“Excellent, then we have much to do then. You likely won't like some of what I need you to do, but if you do what I say I give you my word that I'll get Weems.”

“Ok what do I have to do?” I braced myself for the other shoe.

“We are going to start with sending you to school I think.”

“Oh?” I was relieved, “That doesn't sound too bad, should be easy.” A cold chill ran up my spine at the almost grin on Agent Bane's face.

FIN.

Read 7291 times Last modified on Thursday, 08 June 2023 04:24

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ReadingIsGood
1 year ago
I really hope this one is going to be continued at some point.
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