In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition (29 page)

BOOK: In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition
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Exhausted, we slept in, then headed over to the shop and snagged breakfast on the way. We got there about a half-hour before Diana, and ate at the workbench.

Selene dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “The break-in goes to your idea that these operations are under the control of someone other than the leaders on the ground. Baron Samizdat and Mephistopheles are cooling their heels in the Armory, so they couldn’t have ordered the break-in.”

“And why would they need to? If they had an inkling of what Blue Ninja was, they could have scored the original rings from her body.” My brows arrowed together. “I don’t know if it’s like the Red Signal’s power ring, where you have to be bonded to it to make it work, but either could have snatched a ring and tried.”

“More to your point, however, no one could have anticipated Blue Ninja being there in the first place.”

“Right, so someone who watched the fight went and tracked the injured, discovered her identity and did the research to find the lab. The observer was sharp enough to evaluate what he saw, and then had the resources to react.”

The intercom buzzed.

“What is it, Diana?”

“A Mr. Leonidas Chase to see Castigan.”

I put my egg sandwich down. “Tall man, slender, white hair?”

“Tall and thin, yes, but he has an opera cloak on and a slouch-brimmed hat.”

Selene shot me a quizzical look.

“He’s always had a sense of the theatrical” I sighed. “Buzz him in.”

We entered the showroom as our visitor made it through the door. He swept his hat off and handed his cloak to Diana.

I folded my arms. “Little early in the day for opera, isn’t it,
dad
?”

Sinisterion fairly hissed at the familiarity. Ignoring me, he crossed to Selene and brought her proffered hand to his lips. “Lovely to see you again, my dear.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She smiled. “And you.” Then she turned to me. “We dated a couple of times.”

“You
dated
my father?”

“Before I met you. Kind of a King and Queen of the Underworld thing. Didn’t work.” She slipped her hand from his. “I don’t believe in triangles and he’s too in love with himself to let anyone else in.”

Sinisterion pulled himself erect. “I do so treasure flattery.”

“But you’d prefer worship.”


Prefer
?” He laughed. It almost sounded genuine. “
Deserve.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t a church so…”

My father ignored me, opening is arms and turning to take it all in. “A mausoleum, perhaps; ah, a temple to a fallen age.”

Diana looked at me oddly.

“Diana, this is…”

Sinisterion turned and gave her a predator’s smile. “Doctor Sinisterion at your service.”

She blinked, then sat and went for a drawer in which one of her grandfather’s Cat’s-claws rested.

My father approached the vault. He nodded at Puma’s framed uniform. “Fear not, child, for I mean neither you nor your family any malice. I was saddened by your great-grandfather’s death. Yes, I know who you are–my son did not reveal your secret. I’ve known for a while. I honor your familial loyalties. Others could learn well from you.”

“Uh huh.” I retreated to a small chest, opened it, and pulled out the letter Puma had meant to go to my father. “It’s a bit easier being related to a hero than you. By the way, Puma wanted you to have this.”

My father looked at the letter as if it was an asp, then tucked it away in his breast pocket. “You see, this is exactly what I meant about the end of an era. During my time in prison–innocent though I was–Puma wrote to me regularly, hoping to redeem me. Even after the break-out went awry and your mother was murdered, he sent me a condolence letter. I suspect, in part, his sense of guilt over her death is why he stopped pursuing me. I had to content myself with the likes of Nighthaunt.”

I shook my head. “And yet you still found time to train me to kill Puma.”

“I needed a hobby.”

Diana stared from him to me and back. “I don’t… I…”

Selene shook her head. “Me, neither. We’ll have to get a transcript and have it annotated.”

Again Sinisterion laughed. “It’s not all that complex, ladies, and both of you are capable of understanding rather easily. Life is about choices. Good versus evil. An event happens. Your parents are gunned down in cold blood while you’re a child. You see this senseless act of violence and you make a decision. You decide never to be powerless in the face of violence again. That decision shapes you, shapes those around you. Your life has focus and meaning. Through willpower and courage you make the world your own.”

I opened my hands. “And then someone else comes along and disrupts things. Puma. Nighthaunt. Me.”

“You exalt yourself.” My father frowned. “Puma, yes, he was a force to be reckoned with. It took me years to figure out why he had defeated me.”

Diana perked. “And that was?”

“His history, child. He fought the Nazis, and my family had no love for them. As I grew up, he was a hero for me, too. That stayed my hand.”

I looked at Selene. “Isn’t revisionist history wonderful?”

Sinisterion narrowed his eyes. “You, on the other hand, were a minor annoyance. Do you think I could not have crushed you if I found you to be anything more?”

“Hypothetical. You never did.” I shrugged. “You never nailed Nighthaunt, either.”

“I’m not dead, yet.”

“Uh huh.” I sighed. “So, why is it you’re here?”

“You’ve gotten sloppy. Connecting you to this enterprise was a matter of simplicity. You’ve angered some people and they will seek retribution.”

“Really? You’re sure they’ll connect the dots you have? You are, after all, a
mastermind
.”

“They’re trying.” Sinisterion smiled. “There is a man who, until last evening, called himself PowerLion, then his paw got stuck through with many thorns. Your handiwork, I believe. He now calls himself the Revengenatorist and has sworn vengeance. And you, my dear, were mistaken for Vixen.”

Selene covered her surprise. “Flattery, as you say, Doctor, is appreciated.”

My father clapped his hands. “Splendid. Scarlet Fox is known to be Vixen’s mother, and yet you won’t confirm it
was
you last night. How simply quaint.”

“This coming from the man whose memoir is titled
If I was a Supervillain
?”

“You’ve read it?”

“I save
fiction
for vacation reading.”

Sinisterion bowed to her. “
Touché
.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And you heard this about the Revenger-whoosie how?”

He shrugged. “Researching my next book.”

“And what’s your expert opinion?”

Sinisterion paced as he lectured. “The Hall of Fame hit and the Little Asia Massacre have the earmarks of planning by the same person. The latter went off better, which indicates he’s learning.”

“It indicates better command-and-control.”

My father’s eyes sparked darkly. “So you were there, and you saw things. What did you see?”

“You already know what I saw. Ear-pieces, coordinated maneuvers conducted independent of leaders on the ground.”

He nodded. “And they had advanced armor and weaponry.”

“Seems like.” I nodded. “You projecting into the future off two data-points?”

“No.” He paused in front of the case with the Spookstar. “One has to wonder as to the motive for the operations.”


Qui bono
?”

“Who benefits, yes, but I prefer who
profits
.” He turned, his forehead wrinkled with concentration. “In neither operation was there a profit, yet we must assume there is meant to be a profit.”

Selene pursed her lips. “Redhawk came out of the Little Asia thing looking good.”

“True, but that was not the case from the Hall of Fame. Has he returned from retirement, or is this a case of a blind squirrel finding an acorn? Now Colonel Constitution, on the other hand, does not look good. He is collecting a great deal of flak for the massacre, though fools like O’Lily are willing to give him a pass since the criminals suffered one hundred percent casualties. But public relations are not at the heart of this. They may be a collateral concern, but not the heart.”

As much as I was loathe to admit it, he was making sense. There had to be some logic behind the attacks. Figuring it out would be key to stopping future acts.

“Okay, here’s one thing.” I held up three fingers. “Baron Samizdat, Panda-moanium and Mephistopheles all have been removed from the picture. Each was a good recruiter. They had good armies working for them. Little Miss Dragon scooped up the China Dolls. Someone else could pick up the others’ leftovers.”

“And likely will, through surrogates. Look for the Revengenatorist to pull together the Zomboyz and Red Devils.” My father stroked his chin. “The attacks also tested the response by the city. He gained information which can go to planning new things.”

Selene blinked. “Building a powerbase to take control of Capital City?”

“It’s been tried before, my dear.” Sinisterion’s nostril’s flared, “but Capital City is really too paltry a prize for which to risk so much.”

I laughed. “Sour grapes.”

“I find small nations much more conducive to influence.”

“Easier to bribe, you mean.”

“You say tomato…”

“…you think blood.” I watched my father for a second. “I know you’re not behind this.”

His smile carried up into his eyes. “He’s doing with a sledgehammer what should be done with a scalpel.”

“Then why do you care?” I matched his smile. “Ah, because, ham-handed as this is, it’s closer to success than you’ve ever been.”

“Faugh!” Pure venom erased his smile. “The methodology is interesting, but ultimately doomed. He is working through surrogates, which increases the chances of betrayal. He seeks to use the many to influence the few, whereas controlling a few to influence the many is far more efficient.”

I humored him. “So, you’ve got no dog in this fight? Why are you mentioning all this to me–besides the whole research maguffin?”

“But I do have, as you so quaintly put it, a dog in the fight. That
dog
would be you, my son.” His expression eased. “I might not have always been the most perfect father…”

“You abandoned me to torturers. You tried to have me killed.”

“There are some lessons a son must learn which are very painful for the father as well. My point is this, there are forces which will see you as a threat. They already do, as I said. The Revengenatorist may be as ridiculous as his sobriquet, but he is not wholly without resources.”

I wanted to disagree, but my neck took that moment to twinge.

“Were my son to become a casualty in all this, I would feel compelled to act.”

“Ha!” I shook my head. “That’s it? You’d be embarrassed? Your vanity is what’s pinked here, and you’re using me as your excuse to do something? I don’t believe it.”

Sinisterion’s mask slipped for a moment, for less than a heartbeat. Weariness washed over his features, then vanished behind an iron curtain of indignation. “Do not believe I could not act if I wanted to. I choose
not
to act, not now, perhaps not ever. It is my hope that your fate won’t force me to act.”

I nodded. “I actually understand.” I spread my arms. “All the acting I want to do is here. My last identity. Castigan.”

“I have a few things you might find of interest.” Sinisterion smiled slowly. “If I were a super villain, I might have kept trophies down through the years. Did you know, my dear, that your great-grandfather sported a cape after he returned from the war? It got caught in the cogs of the UltraTank. I still have it.”

“I’ll let you know when villain memorabilia becomes chic, dad.”

“Ingratitude ill becomes you, yet
is
the theme of your life.”

Suddenly the front door burst in. Colonel Constitution sprang through the opening, and Capital City’s finest poured in behind him. One of C4 II, Kid Icthy, squished his way in, his fish-scale skin shimmering with a oil-slick rainbow under the pinpoint lights.

I brought my head up. “Castigan’s is open by appointment only. You don’t have an appointment.”

“I have a warrant.” Constitution brandished a blank piece of paper. “You’re under arrest, every one of you. Criminal conspiracy for starters, and after that, it’s anything that comes up while you’re confessing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

 

 

 

Okay, so this was the only time in my whole entire life I actually liked my father.

Constitution stood there brandishing the blank paper as if it was a cross and we were vampires. My father carefully and slowly reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a passport. It had a gold cover and red seal. He aped Constitution perfectly.

BOOK: In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition
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