Chapter 2.
Investigation.
Next morning, I told Kathy that she'd best stay at my apartment.
"What about school?" she asked.
"I know, you ought to be there. But if those men are watching your house, they may be watching the school you go to as well. You probably want to stay here. If you tell me which school it is, I'll have a word with the principal, and explain where you are."
My first port of call was a contact I hadn't spoken to in months. Wes Schnabel was a retired cop who'd started working as a private eye. I'd lost track of the number of missing persons cases he and I had worked on over the years. And it certainly didn't hurt that he could turn up a lot of information on the 5th. Column. If anyone could find Kathy's parents, he could.
Arriving outside the bar at the south end of Steel where Wes usually could be found, I saw a few of the 5th. Column, doing their typical thing. Normally I wouldn't have given them the time of day, but today their presence made my blood boil.
I walked towards them, making like I was headed into the bar. They ignored me. Right as I passed between them, the claws extended from the backs of my wrists, and with a tremendous spin, the lot of them fell to the ground to be transported to "The Zig". The poor fools never knew what hit them.
Walking into the bar, I headed over to the booth where Wes was always seated, and sat down opposite him.
"Did I hear you making a bit of noise out there, Alissara?"
"Yeah. One too many 5th. Column out there for my taste."
Wes looked at me with a surprised expression. Normally heroes of my security level would leave the 5th. in this area to those with less experience. They could actually benefit from learning how to fight the goons outside.
"What got you so mad at them? That sounds like vengeance, if you don't mind my saying."
"You're not so far off, Wes. Let me give you the full story." I quickly recounted how I'd found Kathy, and what I'd learned of her how her parents had been taken.
"The 5th. have kidnapped an English Professor? You're right Alissara, while there's no visible rhyme or reason to it, they have what they think is a good reason. They must do, otherwise they wouldn't have gone to all that trouble."
"I don't have anything to go on right now. Let me make a few phone calls, and see what I can turn up. Can you meet me back here in an hour or so?"
"Sure thing Wes. I have a few other things to take care of."
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the principal's office of the school that Kathy attended, talking to worried looking man.
"So what's this about Katherine Durham? She's one of our best students. For her to be missing for four days, with no explanation, is a very serious matter."
"Dr. Cutler, her parents have been kidnapped by the 5th. Column. I had a look around the area here before coming into the school, and there's an unusually high number of them out there. I'm certain they'd try to apprehend her if she were to come to school."
He looked at me with a surprised expression on his face. "So that explains why we've been seeing them around here for the last few days. I had no idea of the connection. You tell me that Katherine is safe?"
"She is, Dr. Cutler. She's staying at my apartment in Atlas Park. Since nobody saw me with Kathy, there won't be a connection. She'll be safe there until this is resolved."
"That's a great relief to hear. It would be terrible if anything were to happen to her. But what I don't understand is why the 5th. Column would have any interest in Professor Durham. He's a brilliant academic, with a phenomenal command of the English language. His main area of expertise is classic English Literature. Katherine inherited some of his brilliance, her reading skills are many years beyond of her age."
"I agree. It just doesn't add up. However, the 5th. Column are incredibly well organized. This is not a random kidnapping, they simply dont't do that. They have a reason. We need to figure out what it is."
"I can't help you too much, Alissara. What I can do, is give you a name to contact at the University. Ask for Jim Wilson. He's now the Dean of the University, they couldn't have a better man for the job. Jim and I go way back. More to the point, he was head of the English faculty at the time Professer Durham gained his tenure. I'll call and tell him you're coming. Since he was on the board that approved Professer Durham's tenure, he might know something."
"Thank you for your help, Dr. Cutler. I'll contact Dean Wilson as soon as I can."
I decided that the Dean would have to wait, and returned to the bar at the south end of Steel Canyon. Wes was waiting for me.
"I don't have too much here," said Wes, "but there's rumors going round of a new 5th. Column operation setting up somewhere. I don't have a direct lead on it, but if you were to hit up their training operations in Boomtown, you might uncover something."
I knew what Wes was talking about, at least as far as training in Boomtown meant. You could always find squads of 5th. Column recruits using Boomtown as if it was their private training ground.
"I'll head on up there, and see what I can find out. It'll kill two birds with one stone, I'll have a chance to turn up information on that operation, plus it'll get a few of them off the streets and behind bars, where they belong. You want me to call you if I turn anything up?"
"Please do. You've had my cell number so long, you probably have it permanently etched into the memory on yours."
I grinned at Wes. "You got it."
Within minutes, I reached the gate out of Steel Canyon into Boomtown, and was soon in what remained of what had once been one of Paragon's nicest boroughs: Baumton. I wondered if we'd ever be able to restore it to it's former glory.
While it didn't do much of anything to help with my training, dealing with the 5th. in Boomtown did have the two other benefits I'd mentioned to Wes. Cleaning them off the streets never hurt, and I was hoping that sooner or later I'd find something.
For two hours, I patrolled the streets of Boomtown, taking down 5th. wherever I found them. At long last, I found a hastily scribbled note on the unconscious body of one of the officers.
"If any recruits show special promise, have them report to Kommandant Schwartzherz immediately for assignement.
In a matter of seconds, I teleported to the top of a deserted skyscraper. From the safety of this perch, I called Wes.
"I've got a name for you Wes. See what you can turn up about someone called Kommandant Schwartzherz."
"Schwartzherz. Schwartzherz. That name rings a bell. Haven't heard it in a while though. From what I remember, he's bad news. If he's running this operation it's going to be big. Now that I think about it, I do remember that he's an absolute master of running things on the Q.T. I'd bet that almost nobody else in the 5th. knows that this is going on."
"I'll start digging up what I can about this, Alissara. It may take me some time to get more details. I'll call you the instant I have something."
I knew that Wes was as good as his word, so I hung up and left him to find out what he could. Meanwhile, I had other things to take care of.
Scrappers are just like chainsaws. Somewhat hard to handle, EXTREMELY dangerous, and by far the most fun when wielded by the slightly insane.
@Alissara - an Angry Angel
The Angry Angels. When it absolutely positively has to be spanked today.
Chapter 3.
Information.
I reflected that the relocation of PCU from Founders Falls to Steel Canyon had some definite advantages. It took me a couple of minutes to cover the length of Steel Canyon from the Boomtown entrance to the campus. I walked in to the main admin building, and asked the receptionist for Dean Wilson.
"Who can I say is calling?"
"Please tell him Alissara is here to see him. He may be expecting me."
She dialed a number, spoke quietly for a few seconds, then glanced up at me with a slightly puzzled look.
"The Dean's offices are on the 6th. floor. He asked me to send you straight up. It seems he's in a bit of a hurry to talk to you."
"Thank you," I replied, and turned for the elevators.
A small wisp of a man was waiting for me as soon as the doors opened on the 6th. floor.
"Alissara?" he asked, extending his hand. I shook hands, and discovered the small stature belied considerable physical strength. He had a grip like iron.
"I'm Jim Wilson. Peter Cutler told me you'd be coming, it seems you know something about Alan Durham. We're tremendously worried by his absence. Let's go to my office for some privacy."
As soon as we were seated, I told him a summary of what had happened. I decided to skip what I'd found in Boomtown. The harsh reality of situations like this was that 'need to know' sometimes trumped 'freedom of information'.
"I've got a contact looking for leads now, but what has both of us completely puzzled is the 5th. Column's interest in Professor Durham. Why would a paramilitary organization have any interest in a classic literature professor? Dr. Cutler suggested I talk to you because you've known the Professor for many years. Perhaps there's something you can tell us to help uncover what's going on."
The Dean looked at me, his eyes focused on the middle distance as if deep in thought.
"The professor can tell you anything you'd ever want to know about any of the works of the classic authors. Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Mark Twain. The complete set of Harvard Classics. You name it, he knows it. There's a private joke in the English department here that he has the entire text of Merchant of Venice memorized. That's known to be his favorite of the classics. All of which is completely useless to the 5th. Column."
"He would have sumbitted a C.V. while being considered for tenure here. Let me see if I can find it. That covers more than just his straight academic knowledge. Maybe there's something there."
"Thank you Dean Wilson. Let me know anything you find."
I left the office feeling that this line of investigation had dried up. Something just wasn't right here. Maybe Wes would turn something up.
I headed back to my apartment, determined to take care of some comfort matters for Kathy. She needed some changes of clothing, that was certain. Washing the one set she had every day was going to get old in a big hurry. Plus I had an ulterior motive for getting her some new clothes.
I'd hardly made it through the door before Kathy raced over to me with a smile on her face that threatened to split it in two.
"Will you please read my bedtime story to me tonight?"
I looked at her in amazement. I knew the books on my shelves, and nothing struck me as bedtime reading for a girl her age. But then the words of Dr. Cutler echoed through my mind again. "... her reading skills are many years beyond of her age."
"I will, but what story is it?"
"I found it on the shelves here, I've been reading a bit while you were gone. I've put a bookmark in where my dad got to, so we can carry on from there."
I wasn't quite sure what to say, as she held up a slightly tattered book. "Far from the Madding Crowd", by Thomas Hardy.
Again, the strangeness of the situation reared its head. Here was that knowledge of English literature coming through again. Why was it so important to the 5th?
"I'll read for you. But first we need to go out and get you some changes of clothes. You can't survive on one set."
"Do we have to?" she pouted at me. "I hate shopping for clothes."
It occurred to me that there was perhaps an advantage in her being so young. Had she been twice her current age there would have been a risk that she'd have spent the rent on clothes, given the opportunity.
"Yes we do, because I probably can't wash this one set every night," I replied, making it clear that there was no room for dissent. "If you have to go several days between laundry sessions, you're going to get gross."
It took an hour or so to get her set up with some new clothing, and as she was being measured by the store clerk, I made very careful mental notes.
After dropping her back at the apartment, I left with the excuse that I needed to get some food as well, and asked what she was interested in.
I knew the groceries would take no time at all, but I had something else to take care of first. I quickly entered Steel Canyon, and made my way to the far northwest corner, stopping at the entrance to the Icon store.
Serge waved as I walked in.
"Hey Alissara, you're looking sharp today."
"Thanks Serge. Your handiwork does fit nicely. And you were right, the short cape is just a perfect match with this skirt, much better than the full length one I tried."
"Wonderful," he gushed. "Are you here for another makeover?"
"No, I need to ask a very different favor of you Serge."
"For you, darling, Serge will do anything."
His eyes widened as I described exactly what I wanted.
"I can do it, but I must say you have taken leave of your senses," was his pronouncement. "You want a miniature version of your signature purple and white set, to these exact sizes? What on earth are you up to?"
I gave him the 'Cliff notes' version, describing how I'd rescued Kathy and that her parents were kidnapped by the 5th.
"She's taking it well Serge, but missing her parents is eating away at her. I'm hoping this will cheer her up."
Serge's face softened, and much of his effusive nature drained away as I told him what was going on.
"I will do this for you, Alissara, and for Kathy as well. You sent the Tsoo packing when they were troubling me, for which I am eternally in your debt. And you do not ask this for yourself. You ask this for the unfortunate girl you have taken under your wing. I still have the patterns for your set, so it will be the work of an instant to adjust the sizes. I will have them ready by the time we open tomorrow."
"Serge, you're a gem. Any time the Tsoo even think about bothering you, give me a call. I'll straighten them out, and explain to them which end is up in Steel Canyon."
Fifteen minutes later, I'd made a quick stop for groceries, and arrived back home. Kathy was already getting ready for bed, and she settled down so I could read to her. She didn't seem bothered by what was described as the shepherd lanced the bellies of the sheep that had gotten into the clover, she just took in the story like an adult would.
"But why didn't Gabriel Oak come as soon as he got Bathsheba's first message?" asked Kathy, as I slipped the bookmark into the beginning of chapter 22. "He must have known that the sheep would die without his help."
I blinked at her insight. Dr. Cutler hadn't been joking about her reading skills.
"He wants to marry her, just like the other two men. He wanted to see if she was willing to swallow her pride when it really mattered. How people behave when they're really under pressure is what counts."
"Who do you think she'll end up getting married to?"
I knew how the story ended, so rather than give a direct reply, I punted.
"Each one of them has something to offer. You'll just have to wait and see how it turns out."
I was just about to turn out the light in my own bedroom, when my cell phone on the table beside me rang. The caller ID told me it was Wes.
"Hello?"
"Alissara, Wes Schnabel here. I've got something for you. I've been in touch with some heroes that have been working on the 5th. Apparently they know something of this operation that Schwarzherz has going. Meet me first thing tomorrow, I'll get you hooked up with them. They should be able to turn something up for you."
"Thanks Wes. I'll be there.
Scrappers are just like chainsaws. Somewhat hard to handle, EXTREMELY dangerous, and by far the most fun when wielded by the slightly insane.
@Alissara - an Angry Angel
The Angry Angels. When it absolutely positively has to be spanked today.
Chapter 4.
Breakthrough.
Wes was in his usual place when I walked into the bar the following morning.
"Here's what I have for you," said Wes, cutting the pleasantries short. "There's a group that have been working on this new operation since we first caught wind of it. They've made a lot of progress, and have a mission today to gather some data files from an office in Founders' Falls. They think there's a good chance of turning up something about the mysterious Kommandant during the raid. If you get a move on, you should be able to catch up with them at the Talos Island Tram station."
I headed north across Steel Canyon, making the shortest time possible to the Tram station up there. No more than a couple of minutes later, I emerged into the morning sunlight on Talos Island.
"Alissara, glad you could make it!" boomed a huge voice, belonging to an equally huge body. "I'm Nightgun. Assault rifle blaster at your service. Senji-San is leading the team, he's one of the best defenders I've ever met. He and the rest of the team are at the gate to Founders' Falls, someone should be able to summon us there in an instant."
Almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, I felt the familiar tugging of a teleport, and I was instantly taken to the gate in the south wall of Talos.
"Someone's going to have to take you in as a sidekick, Alissara," said Senji-San, as soon as I'd arrived. "You'll be in way over your head otherwise."
"It'll probably be best if I work with either a tanker or another scrapper. If I do my usual 'up close and personal' thing, I don't want my mentor too far away from me."
"Good idea. Black Archon, any chance I can convince you to be mentor?"
"Sure thing, Senji-San," replied a small figure in a black robe.
"Don't let his looks fool you," said Nightgun, trying to fake a whisper with a voice that could be heard 20 feet away. "He's as tough as nails."
"On the money, big one," replied the small tanker. "I'll keep them busy while you cut them to pieces."
I could tell from the banter that they were eager to get started, and in under five minutes we'd arrived at the door of an office building deep in Founders' Falls.
It was clear that these heroes worked together well. I quickly settled down to the task of concentrating on the stronger foes we came across. There was plenty of firepower for dealing with the 'cannon fodder' minions that filled the office building, my strength lay in the ability to go one on one against a tougher opponent.
All of a sudden I heard a yell. "Runner!"
It was almost a reflex action. I looked up the hall at the back of a villain, running as if his life depended on it.
"Oh no you don't!"
A few seconds later, the very startled 5th. Column recruit was right back where he'd started, and was on the floor unconscious a moment later.
"Nice catch, Alissara," commented Senji-San, "If he'd got away for help, who knows what would have happened."
We moved forward, as quickly as was possible. Our rate of progress could have been better, but since we were here to gather information as much as anything else, time was spent looking through any desk or filing cabinet we found. Many of them held nothing of interest, but one by one the clues collected.
As we progressed through the building, the picture painted by the information we were gathering got more and more grim. It became apparent that Schwarzherz was highly concerned by the lack of acceptance of the 5th. Column by the public. It seemed that he had made it his personal crusade to make them a recognized organization, no matter what the cost.
I began to suspect that there was a hint of his signature on the men we were fighting. For all their other faults, they had a loyalty to the 5th. that went above and beyond the call of duty. Such a pity it was misplaced.
We'd just finished clearing out a large contingent of 5th. column, when we found a very frightened office worker cowering behind a filing cabinet.
"Thank goodness you arrived!" she gasped. "They were talking about all sorts of terrible things. Brainwashing me, and who knows what."
As if the wound the 5th. had created wasn't painful enough, here was someone pouring salt into it. They were brainwashing people as part of the new operation.
"We've got to get you out to safety." said Senji-San to the woman. "Black Archon, can you and Alissara escort her out. The two of you should be able to deal with any stragglers we might have missed."
"Not a problem," replied the diminutive tanker. "We'll call for a summon when we're done."
It only took a minute or two to make our way back to the front entrance of the building, and we only encountered a single patrolling recruit on the way. He lasted all of three seconds before collapsing to the floor.
I took the time to ask her if she knew anything about what was going on.
"Not much really. I think there's two reasons why they'd captured me. I'm just an accountant, but I've been doing it for a long time. I can see why they'd want that. And since my husband died last year, I think they figured that nobody would miss me. I got the impression they were planning to brainwash me and make me work for them."
Yet again, the puzzle did another lap round my mind. Assuming the same fate awaited Kathy's father, why did the 5th. Column want to brainwash an English literature professor, so that he'd work willingly for them. What did he have to offer?
As soon as the accountant was safely outside the building, Black Archon requested that we be summoned back to the main force.
"We're definitely on the right track as far as you're concerned Alissara," said Senji-San once we were back with them. "We found this list of names. I'll be going straight to the PPD with it when we get through here, since it is probably a list of people they want, or have already captured. It's got Alan Durham's name on it."
We pressed forward, and after another fourty five minutes of action, we reached the top floor of the building. There wasn't too much left up here, since most of the forces guarding the operation's leader had already been sent to try to stop us. We found them in a room, more intent on starting a fire in a wastebasket than in trying to stop us.
Realising that they were making an effort to destroy information, a quick thinking ice bolt from a blaster had the fire extinguished almost instantly, at which point we turned to the men.
The fight didn't last very long, but as the last one fell, he uttered the words: "You may have won this battle, but we will win the war. Schwarzherz cannot be stopped."
As if we needed it, this was confirmation that we were on the right track. Senji-San started working through the contents of the wastebasket. Some of the papers in there were damaged beyond recovery, but despite that, we'd found the mother-lode.
"Good thinking, Ice finger," he commented to the blaster. "You almost certainly saved a vast amount of information from being permanently lost."
There were a couple of papers that covered various brainwashing techniques, plus a long discourse on the importance of successful propaganda. Which dovetailed perfectly with Schwarzherz's desire for public acceptance of the 5th. Last but by no means least, was a partial address.
"Give this to every contact you can think of that might be able to turn something up." said Senji-San. "There can't be that many 3624 East 1-smudge-th Streets in Paragon City. See if anthing shakes loose that connects this address with the 5th Column."
We parted company, and I made my way as quickly as possible to the Icon store in Steel Canyon. Serge beamed at me as I walked over to the counter.
"I have the costume for you. You must make sure to bring Kathy here, she's going to look fabulous wearing it."
"I'll be sure to do that, Serge. Thanks again for your help, you may have just made a young girl's day for her."
My next stop was Wes's hangout. I recounted what we'd found in the offices.
"It looks like you hit paydirt there. I'll put that address out on the street, and see what turns up. Someone's got to know something."
I headed back home, and found Kathy looking over my book collection.
"We're getting towards the end of my current story. Help me chose the next one to read."
My eyes quickly roamed over the shelves. Romeo and Juliet? I decided to let her father lead her into tragedies. Then an idea came to me.
"You've read several book with your dad that were written in English. Have you ever read any of the really old books that were originally written in Greek or Latin?"
"No I haven't. My dad tends to stay with the ones we've talked about."
"I'm going to take a chance, and try one written ages ago. It's called "The Oddysey", written by someone called Homer."
"I've never heard of that. What's it about?"
"It tells the story of a hero that went away to fight in a war. He got lost on the way home, and just about everyone thought he was dead. However his son went looking for him and found him. The story's about that, and what happened when he finally got home. Hardly anyone recognised him.
"Gosh, that sounds fun." But then her expression changed. "Suppose you find my mom and dad before we finish my current book?"
I didn't say that there was a good chance she'd see them within the next twenty four hours. The last thing I wanted to do was get her all excited, and then have something go wrong.
"I'll think of something." I already had something planned to cover what we likely to happen.
"Now, changing the subject a bit, I got something for you."
"What is it?" she asked excitedly.
"Just some more clothes." I said, suppressing a grin.
Kathy looked at me a little darkly, obviously expecting me to remember her distaste for new clothes.
"At least I didn't take you with me to buy them. Go try them on in the bathroom, while I start cooking supper. You might even like them."
With a rather sullen expression, she headed for the bathroom.
Exactly ten seconds later there was an excited squeak from the bathroom, the door slammed open and she came running across the room to wrap herself around my legs.
"This is just amazing! It's a real superhero costume!"
"Yes, and if you check the label, it's the personal work of Serge. He's the tailor that makes all my outfits. So it really and truly is a superhero costume."
I'd hardly finished speaking when my cell phone rang. Again, the caller ID indicated it was Wes Schnabel.
"Hello?"
"Wes Schnabel. We've got a lead. 3624 East 18th street in Brickstown is a disused warehouse. I sent someone over to take a look at it, they reported a fair bit of 5th. Column traffic in and out of the place. It'll be a big operation, but the group you were with today are setting up a raid tomorrow."
"You think they'll mind if I get some of the other Black Roses to come along?"
"Not in the least. The more the better. I've spoken to the barkeep here, he's agreed to let us use the big back room here to plan it out. Anyone that wants in needs to be here by eleven o'clock tomorrow morning."
"Thanks Wes. You know I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"Also, pass along the word that we know that Kathy's parents are still alive. The fact that the 5th. want them so badly gives them a certain amount of safety."
"That's another one I owe you Wes."
"See you tomorrow, Alissara."
"You too."
"What was that about?" asked Kathy, after I'd hung up.
"That was the man I'm working with to find your mom and dad. We've made a lot of progress, and that call means we're a whole lot closer now. The other important thing that he wanted you to know is that he got word that your mom and dad are still OK."
It was as if a dark raincloud had vanished from above her head. The relief that Kathy exhibited was almost tangible.
With the news and her new costume, we didn't read much that evening, and I'd just got Kathy tucked up in bed when my phone rang again. I was slightly surprised to see the caller ID indicating the call originated at PCU.
"Hello?"
"Alissara, this is Jim Wilson."
"Yes, Dean Wilson. What can I do for you."
"I think it's more a case of what I can do for you. I finally found Alan Durham's C.V. There's two things you need to know about it. Firstly, he was in the debating society while he was getting his master's degree, and people I've spoken to say he was an incredible public speaker when he put his mind to it. Someone described it by saying he could easily have convinced John F. Kennedy to run for president as a Republican."
"What's the other thing?"
"Someone else asked for a copy of his C.V. about two weeks ago. We've checked the name, he was a registered undergraduate student, reading English, but hasn't attended any classes since two days after requesting the copy."
Everything fell into place. It was a safe bet that the missing student was a 5th. Column recruit. The 5th. didn't care in the slightest about the Professor's knowledge of literature. However, if he was that powerful of a public speaker, the idea of them brainwashing him, and forcing him into their propaganda engine was a concept that I found truly frightening.
Scrappers are just like chainsaws. Somewhat hard to handle, EXTREMELY dangerous, and by far the most fun when wielded by the slightly insane.
@Alissara - an Angry Angel
The Angry Angels. When it absolutely positively has to be spanked today.
Chapter 5.
Vengeance.
Next morning I was in our base, sitting across from a thoughtful tanker, dressed in his customary black business suit.
I'd spoken with Solak, leader of The Heroes of the Black Rose the previous evening, and he'd agreed to come along. Most of the rest of the Roses had voiced their support, so it was quite a large force that left the base and headed for Wes's bar in Steel Canyon.
Solak had indicated that he wanted a word with me before the two of us left, which puzzled me a little.
"Alissara. I've spoken with the leader of the group we'll be working with today. They've agreed that although they are the larger force, since the investigation has been largely your efforts alone, this can be considered a Black Rose operation."
He turned away, and I gasped as he deftly cut a single bloom from a potted plant on the table behind him. The rose's petals were such a dark shade of violet that in anything except the brightest of light, it looked black.
"I think that it would be appropriate to send a message to the 5th. Column that they are not welcome in Paragon City, and that they never will be."
He carefully wrapped the flower in tissue paper, and put it inside a box for safety.
"Alissara. You'll have to hurry, but before the meeting, go to the store at this address. The lady that runs it knows me well. Tell her that Solak needs a vase. She'll give you one."
I didn't argue, instead I took my leave and made my way as quickly as possible to a rather nondescript store in Kings Row. From the outside, it looked like what many people would have called a junk store, there were all soorts of odd paraphernalia in the window.
I almost had to stoop to enter, and was greeted by a wheezing breath from the back.
"Can I help you, Missy?"
I blinked at way she addressed me, but then remembered what Solak had said.
"Ma'am, I'm here because Solak asked me to come and see you."
"So you know Solak, do you Missy." she went on. "You can't be all that bad then. What does that young lad want?"
After hearing how she referred to Solak, I decided not to worry about telling her my name, and simply relayed his request. She looked back at me in silence for several seconds.
"Solak wants a vase. What's the young lad planning?" It was as if she knew what we were about to do today. Maybe she did. Then she caught sight of the box under my arm.
"Yes, he would need one, wouldn't he." She rummaged around for a few moments before producing an exquisite crystal vase. Within seconds, she'd wrapped it up, and handed it to me.
"Just tell him that if he's going to put a rose in it, to crush an aspirin and add it to the water. It makes them last much longer."
Then she looked at me again.
"Are you a Black Rose too?"
"I am, Ma'am," I replied.
She looked at me with an expression that I couldn't quite decipher.
"You look after yourself, Missy. Take care of Solak too. He's a good boy."
I wasn't sure, but it was almost as if she cared for him like a parent.
"I will Ma'am. And thank you for the vase."
The meeting in the back room of the bar was remarkably short. There wasn't much that needed to be covered about the operation itself, we'd all taken part in hostage release actions in the past. Once Wes had given us a brief description of the area, and what we could expect inside the warehouse, we broke up into smaller groups, both to help with managing the raid, as well as to ensure that mentors and sidekicks were well matched.
The trip to Brickstown was uneventful. Most of the villains that caught sight of the large army of heroes moving thropugh the streets decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and quietly slipped into the shadows. Of the few that didn't evaporate at the sight of us, none started any trouble.
We pushed the door open and moved inside.
It wasn't a surprise to find that they knew we were coming. They'd gathered every soldier they could find to defend the place. They knew that it was do or die for this operation. If we succeeded today, it would cost them tremendously.
The first wave were dealt with, but hardly had the last one fallen when another huge group of 5th. Column soldiers attacked. Relentlessly, they kept coming at us, but as time progressed, we made our slow and steady progress through the warehouse.
Half an hour after entering the warehouse, we came upon a makeshift prison. All of the inmates were in somewhat bad condition, some worse than others. Senji-San immediately called a halt to the main operation to collect their names, and to ensure they were lead to safety.
His policy was a little different from ours about who was selected to stay and guard, but nobody was going to argue. They simply rolled dice, losers stayed. Sure, they wouldn't see much more action today, but their job was vital. The safety of the rescued hostages was of paramount importance.
"There's one thing that worries me." said Senji-San to me, after he'd checked the names of all the prisoners we'd found. "I had the PPD cross check this list, and mark down the names of everyone who was still safe. That left the people the 5th. had captured. We've found all but four of them, and two that are still missing are Alan Durham and his wife."
"I just hope we find them and the two others here."
We'd just finished clearing out an esepecially tenacious group, when we found a locked door behind where they'd been standing. It was a steel rolldown, and rapidly proved to us that we could not break it down.
"We'll have to find a key for it." said Senji-San, who was coordinating with Solak. "Note where this is, we'd best move on and come back here later."
Half an hour later, we'd eliminated every last enemy this side of the steel, door, and no sign of a key.
"I bet I know where it is," piped up Xanthia, who was a Black Rose tanker that had lost her arm to a Rikti blade, weilded by one of the Lost. "We found that desk a while back, let's try looking through it more closely."
She lead us back to the desk, and we went through it again. Nothing.
"This is futile," she fumed. "Stand back."
With a strength normally reserved for defeating Paragon's enemies, she swung her huge stone mallet at the desk. The result was spectacular, if predictable. With a loud crunch, the top was reduced to toothpicks, at which point the ends fell inward on what remained of the top. But was caught everyone's attention was a quiet "clink" as something made of metal landed on the concrete floor.
After sifting through the pile of wood for a moment, she triumphantly held up a small key, and promptly handed it to Solak.
We all headed back to the locked steel door, and in moments it was rolling up towards the ceiling, revealing a small section that was mostly comprised of small offices. Doubtlessly the section of the warehouse that dealt with administration and bookkeeping.
It also revealed a vast force of 5th. column soldiers, so we set to work again. They knew that there was no half way house. Either they stopped us, or we would defeat every last one of them here in the warehouse, bringing the operation to a certain close.
Other than this initial force there were hardly any other soldiers visible save for a small contingent guarding two more prisoners. The 5th. Column were dispatched in short order, and Senji-San checked their names. As expected, they were two of the missing four, but unfortunately for me they were not Professor and Mrs. Durham.
Searching the remainder of the warehouse, it rapidly became apparent that the people leading this operation had blockaded themselves in one of the offices. As soon as we'd cleaned out the rest of the area, we gathered around the locked door.
"We ought to take a moment to get fully rested and buffed." said Senji-San.
"Agreed." replied Solak, and then he glanced at me.
"I've got what you sent me to get," I said, in reply to the question his eyes asked. "One other thing," I continued, to the rest of the force. "No one else touches Schwarzherz. He's mine." These last two word were uttered with enough venom dripping off them that people got the hint.
As soon as we were fully prepared, Senji-San nodded to Black Archon, and the diminutive tanker proceeded to reduce the door to tinderwood with one swing of his fist.
I was surprised that so large a number of 5th. column could fit into so small a space. But through the ranks of recruits, enlisted men, NCO's and officers, I caught sight of a single man at the back. If looks could kill, his expression would have dropped me in my tracks.
I waited exactly two seconds for the tankers to get in and start holding the attention of the "cannon fodder", and then sent a shockwave into the room from where I was standing in the door. Not with the intent to do damage, although it did, but to get a clear line of sight to where Schwarzherz was standing. I looked at the ground just behind him through half closed eyes, and then activated my teleport power to land exactly where I'd been looking.
As strange as it sounds, we were back to back the instant after my arrival. I immediately spun a half circle to face him, and found him already turning to me. Doubtless the sound of my arrival had alerted him, Teleport self is not the quietest of powers by any stretch of the imagination.
We stood there, face to face for a couple of seconds, locked in a tableau of hostility.
"Schwarzherz." I snarled at him.
"You must be Alissara," he said, with as much contempt as he could muster in his voice.
Nothing more was said, as we joined the battle. It was almost like a dance, but a very grim dance indeed. I had numerous powers at my disposal, but he was a formidable opponent. Clearly, he had received excellent training in martial arts. I grudgingly admitted that for someone fighting bare handed, he gave a good showing of himself.
In the end, the support that I had from my allies made the difference. It is doubtful that had we faced each other in isolation I could have won. However, the preparations before combat, and the healing received during the fight were enough to tip the scales in my favor. Ironically, it was perhaps the weakest of my attacks, a strike, that dealt the coupe de grace. He crumpled to the floor, and with his last breath before unconsciousness took him, he whispered, "You cannot win, we will eventually prevail."
A lot had been going on in the mean time. All that was left standing were a few other high ranking officers, who were rapidly dealt with. In addition, two of our number were standing in a corner, watching over a very frightened couple of civilians. I pushed my way through the remnants of the carnage to them.
"Professor Durham?" My tone of voice asked the question.
"Yes, and this is my wife, Elizabeth."
Before she could even open her mouth, I interrupted. "Kathy's safe. She's been staying with me for the last few days."
The last trace of fear was removed from her face. It would take a while for them to get over this, but for now all was well.
I had one last thing to do. I carefully unwrapped the vase and the flower, and was just about to put the stem of the rose in the vase, when Solak tapped me on the shoulder by way of interruption.
"You'll probably need these," he said and handed me a small plastic bottle of water and a small piece of paper, folded into a rough envelope. I poured the water into the vase, and then opened the paper to find a tiny amount of white powder.
"It's a crushed aspirin. Add it to the water." I slowly turned to look at him with an expression of total puzzlement on my face. Then I thought better of asking the obvious question about the storekeeper in Kings Row. Some questions are best left unanswered.
As we left the room, I glanced back in. It looked so incongruous. Despite the removal of the bodies, the room clearly looked like it had been the site of a major battle. Yet standing peacefully in the middle was a lone flower in a vase that would have been more at home on a coffee table in Beverly Hills, CA.
Epilogue (1).
We knew that the authorities would want to talk with the captives we'd released to gather as much information as possible, however for Professor and Mrs. Durham, that would have to wait. I had a more important task to take care of. Our trip to my apartment was positively sedate by comparison with my normal rate of travel, but I had to admit that walking from the tram to my apartment building was a nice change of pace once in a while.
The elevator made its interminable trip up to the 28th. floor, and moments after the doors finally opened, I unlocked the door to my apartment. The three of us walked in, and I suppressed a grin when I caught sight of Kathy, wearing a miniature version of my outfit, with her back to us, obviously deeply engrossed in the book she was reading.
"Kathy," her mother quietly called to her.
Her reaction was a rather startling counterpoint.
"MOMMY!" she bellowed, the chair tipped over backwards as she jumped up, and like a small purple and white bullet, she flew across the room to wrap herself in her mother's arms.
Elizabeth Durham had taken the last hour or two remarkably well, but this was too much for her. She broke down and cried, tears of relief streaming down her face.
Professor Durham looked at me, clearly happy that his family was finally reunited, but then he glanced at what Kathy was wearing, and looked back at me with raised eyebrows.
I grinned back at him and then whispered, "Something I had made for her, it helped to take her mind off things."
Epilogue (2).
I decided against my signature set for the evening, and instead put on a rather nice charcoal grey and blue set that Serge had made for me.
The school auditorium was packed with parents, graduation was always a happy event. I hadn't yet told the professor what I'd bought for Kathy, I wanted it to be as much a surprise for him as it was for her.
The ceremony progressed, until the announcer finally said "Third grade, Miss Brady's class." Kathy stood up, and along with a dozen other students, she nervously approached the stage. The class was recognized for having all successfully graduated, and then the Honor students were named.
"Mathematics, Caroline Carper." Applause ...
"Science, Frank Waters." Applause ...
"English, Katherine Durham." Applause ...
"History, Paul Kwok." Applause ...
Each student received a small gift, usually suggested by the parents. Not surprisingly, the professor had suggested a book. However, there was a second book there for her that I'd quietly slipped to the principal.
Professor Durham's eyes widened when he saw her returning with two books. The look on his face became almost puzzled as he saw the title, "The Oddyssey." Again, I grinned at him.
"I know your main interest is classic English literature, Professor," I said to him. "But give this a try, you might just like it. Homer does spin a first class yarn."
Scrappers are just like chainsaws. Somewhat hard to handle, EXTREMELY dangerous, and by far the most fun when wielded by the slightly insane.
@Alissara - an Angry Angel
The Angry Angels. When it absolutely positively has to be spanked today.
Editorial remark. This story was first written around the time of Issue 2, when the 5th. were still an active force in the city. It also provides a little of Alissara's back story, most notably that if the 5th. ever make a return to Paragon, she will go after them with a special vengeance.
Chapter 1.
Rescue.
We climbed out of the sewer grate into the relative peace of Steel Canyon. The sky was clear above. but only the moon and a few of the brightest starts showed against the street lights of the city.
"Good work," said the team leader. "That's one more artifact rescued from the Banished pantheon. I need to report back to my contact, I suspect the rest of you are going to head for home, get cleaned up and take a rest."
"You got that right," replied one of the tankers. "I'll go into the sewers if asked, but I flatly refuse to like the smell in there."
Most of the rest of the team nodded in agreement, we all smelt a little 'ripe'.
Everyone else headed for one of the two tram stations, but I decided to go through the tunnel that directly linked Steel Canyon and Atlas Park.
A few moments teleporting through the cold night air cleared my head, and I soon was on the ground at the tunnel entrance.
I was just about to walk through, when I noticed a heap on the ground, right underneath one of the police drones. It almost looked like someone had dropped a bag. I started towards it, wondering what it might contain.
By the time I got to the heap, it became apparent that it wasn't a bag, but a small girl huddled inside a coat that was clearly several sizes too large for her. I gently shook her shoulder to wake her up, and was confronted with a dirty, tear stained face.
"Who are you?"
"Relax sweetheart," I replied. "I'm Alissara, one of the good guys. Now please tell me who you are, and why you're sleeping under a police drone."
"My name's Katherine, although everyone calls me Kathy. I can't go home, someone took my parents."
"Another kidnapping, just what Paragon city needs." I thought to myself.
"The first thing we need to do is get you inside out of this cold, and then get you cleaned up a little. Then we need to start figuring where your parents are, and how to rescue them. The first part is relatively easy, I've got a bunk bed in my apartment that you can use for the time being, and a washing machine and shower that will take care of the second item."
"What about my mom and dad?"
"I have some contacts in Paragon that can make some discreet enquiries. Something is bound to turn up."
We walked through the tunnel into Atlas Park, then I picked up the child, and held her in the world's gentlest bear hug.
"Hang on round my shoulders, here we go."
I knew the route to my apartment, via teleport hops, so well I could do it with my eyes closed. In under thirty seconds we'd arrived outside, gone in, and taken the elevator to the 28th. floor. A short walk down the hall brought us to apartment 2802. Home, sweet home.
I aimed Kathy at the bathroom, with the following words. "Dump your clothes in the basket in there, you probably want to use the robe that's hanging on the back of the door. It's way too big for you, but it'll have to do for now."
Kathy looked up at me with a grateful expression, and within seconds of her vanishing into the room, I was rewarded by the sound of a shower running.
Running my eyes over the contents of the fridge, I reflected that I might want to get some ideas about what she liked to eat. For now, I took a chance, put a couple of steaks under the broiler, and some fries in the microwave.
"Gosh, that smells good." I spun around on the spot, surprised by the voice.
"Steak and fries, it'll be ready in just a couple of minutes."
"Good. I've hardly eaten anything in the last three days, I'm hungry enough that I could eat the whole cow."
That answered a question I hadn't yet asked, when her parents had gone missing. Presumably during the evening or night, about 72 hours ago.
Faster than I'd have believed possible, she demolished the contents of the plate I'd given her, and we turned to more important matters.
"Kathy, this is very important. I need you to tell me everything you possibly can about what happened the night your parents were taken. I don't care how small or unimportant it seems, the more you tell me the easier it'll be to find them."
"There's not too much to tell. Some men started breaking down the door to our house, yelling that if anyone left the house they'd be shot. My mom told me to hide, and not to come out till after everyone had left. She also told me not to come back to the house after I'd escaped, not until she and dad were safe, because it was too dangerous.
There's a loose board in the back of my closet that has never been fixed. I can get from there to the crawlspace under the house. I hid there, waited till morning, and then just ran for it. I've been moving round the city slowly, trying to stay away from the men. They know I escaped, and I'm sure they're looking for me."
"Tell me everything you can about these men."
"It doesn't make any sense to me. They looked like they were in the army, but I know that our army would never do something like this."
My face hardened. The 5th. Column.
"I think I know who they are, and if I'm right, I know who to ask for information. One last question before we head for bed. Do you have any ideas at all why they took your father?"
"That doesn't make any sense either. My dad's way too old to be a soldier, and he's never been in the army either. I have no idea what they want with him."
"What does your dad do?"
"He's a teacher."
"Which school, and what does he teach?"
"He teaches English, and it's not a school, but at the University."
"Thanks - that should give me enough to go on."
This last remark puzzled me. I was willing to bet it wasn't simply English language, that was elementary and grammer school level. He had to be in some other more specialized area of study. But what did the 5th. Column want with an English professor?
Scrappers are just like chainsaws. Somewhat hard to handle, EXTREMELY dangerous, and by far the most fun when wielded by the slightly insane.
@Alissara - an Angry Angel
The Angry Angels. When it absolutely positively has to be spanked today.