A Whateley Universe Tale
There's An Angel In Father John's Basement
by Bek D Corbin
Part 2
December 21st
Father John and Brother
Gunther helped Kerry down to her bed after the third healing. Kerry stumbled
along on legs that felt nothing. Father John helped her through her restoring
prayer and put her to bed, still in her new white silk ceremonial robe. Hopefully,
this one would last longer.
“So, how long should she be
out?” Brother Gunther asked clinically.
“Hard to say. She’s
recovering more quickly, but these healing sessions still take a lot out of
her. If she weren’t doing it voluntarily, I’d have real problems with this.”
“Maybe, but on the other
hand, Mr. Sallis will be able to walk again, with some physical therapy.”
“Never thought that I’d see
anyone that glad to be in pain.” Father John gave a long stretch. “Well, no
rest for the weary. Bishop Spengler’s come up with yet another affair that I’m
expected to attend.”
“Well, you’d better be
getting then, Father. We’re expecting a full team to show up, and Brother Mateo
is checking the outlying neighborhood in case the opposition has already taken
up positions. Are you absolutely sure about this ‘El Penitente’ character? Is
it safe to let him hang around?”
“What, are you expecting
some sort of trouble tonight?”
“It’s the Winter Solstice
tonight, St. George’s Eve; a time of power. It would be a minor miracle if they
didn’t try something. If you can, try to delay your return until after 2 in the
morning. Anything that happens should be over by then.”
“Have you informed the
sisters?”
“Sister Catherine has been
informed of the proper procedure in case of emergency; it will be her duty to
get the nuns to safety.”
Father John thought that
over. “Well, this soiree isn’t really all that important, maybe I should-”
“Go, Father. You’re doing
the good work. Besides, we don’t really need another warm body.”
Knowing when he’d been
dismissed, Carmody mounted the stairs.
###
Kurtz and Korrupt came
trudging in, chilled to the bone. “Well, that’s the last of them,” Kurtz said
as Randall provided hot cider.
“Do you think that anyone
will notice?” Korrupt asked through chattering teeth.
“Are you kidding? This is
New York! Our only worry is that too many of them will be vandalized before
tonight!” Kurtz took a deep drink of the cider. “I still think that we should
hire a few supervillains for this. I know that Strongarm, The Crippler and Dr.
Napalm are in town, maybe Dingo as well. And, there are always a few new bucks
with a gimmick that are looking for a chance to make their mark. Put them in
whatever costumes-”
“NO! We can’t afford
to hire anybody! Besides, all the supervillains in town are leaving this
‘angel’ alone, because they know that the Hall is interested in her. If we
bring in people from outside the Hall, that professional courtesy might be
voided.”
At that moment, Bete Noir
came sashaying in, wearing a dressing gown. “Oh, Korrey! There you are!” She
held up two outfits, one in each hand. “Which one do you think that I should
wear?”
“What’s this?”
“I gotta decide what I’m
gonna wear when we make our big entrance. This is sorta my big debut, and I
wanna make the right statement.”
“Bete, they’ve seen you
already.”
“Yeah, but the first time,
I was dressed as a nun, and the second time, I was dressed as a soccer mom! I
don’t want them to think that I’m a frump! So, which one works
better? This one? It says ‘I am a dangerous sorceress, and I reek of magical
power!’ ” She held up an elaborate purple silk and red velvet gown with a
lace-up belle poitrine front, high lace collar, wide lacy bell sleeves.
‘ ‘Magical Power’?’ Randall
snarked to himself, ‘Is that the name of that cheap perfume you’re wearing? What
that outfit really says, is, “I watched ‘Cinderella’ too many
times as a little girl”.’
“Or this one? It says, ‘I’m
sleek and stacked and dangerous, and you’re damn lucky that I haven’t
eviscerated you yet!’ ” She held up a glossy black vinyl bondage-strapped
catsuit with an obviously Xena inspired brass bustier and bracers set, and
matching ‘demon’ mask.
‘The only statement it is
making,’ Randall managed not to laugh, ‘is, “I accept MasterCard and Visa”.’
Korrupt just barely managed
to refrain from asking what difference it made. He paused, made a production of
mulling over their potentials. “Go with the catsuit.”
“Why?”
“Well, first of all, as you
said, it makes a statement, and it makes it a lot more clearly than the gown.
Also, the way that this is set up, we’re either going to win or we’re going to
lose. Period. There’s no ‘next time’ with this one. If we win, we’re going to
want to celebrate, and to be honest, I think that I’d enjoy celebrating with
you in the catsuit, a lot more than the gown. And if we lose, we’ll have to do
a lot of very fast running, and the gown would only slow you down.”
“Oh,” Bete pouted, “you
only wanna see how the catsuit shows off my curves.”
“Yes,” Korrupt said in the
most reasonable of voices as he pulled her close to him and groped her leather
miniskirt clad backside, ‘and your point IS?”
Bete giggled and started
to lean in.
“Besides, with the gown,
you’d have to worry about the right earrings, necklace, bracelets and like all
that. With the catsuit, all that you have to worry about is finding the right
whip, and that’s going to be a lot more of an advantage in a fight.”
“WHIP!” Bete bleated, “I
know that the Bell Witch has absolutely the most fabulous whip in
her room!” she skittered off to violate the Bell Witch’s privacy.
“Oh Lord,” Korrupt moaned,
“I’ve created a monster.”
“Worse,” Randall corrected
him. “You’ve created a girlfriend.”
###
It was too late and way too
cold to be hanging out on the street. Eleven-year old Darryl Murphy wouldn’t
have been out, except that he was running an errand for his mother to the
corner store. Then he spotted a snowman out on the street. It was too early for
snowmen, unless they were the plastic kind. It didn’t look like plastic, but on
the other hand, it was way too perfect to be a real snowman. It was three
almost perfect balls with two arms of snow stuck on the sides. How you could stick
those arms onto those balls, and not have it be plastic- Darren just had to
know. He stepped up and closely examined it. No, it wasn’t smooth like plastic,
even the press-pattered kind. It looked like snow. And, dayum, it
was cold!
###
Father John stepped into
the dining room. Bishop Spengler immediately took him in hand and started
showing him around, introducing the Father to the people that he had to talk
to.
###
From a hotel room (which
was rented to a very nice couple from Dayton, who’d somehow gotten tickets to Wicked
and were conveniently out) Larry Porter was watching with binoculars. “Control,
the Eagle has landed. I repeat, the Eagle has landed.”
[Larry, put the snacks back
in the fridge!]
“What snacks?”
[The complimentary snacks
that are in the room’s studio cooler for the guests. We don’t want anyone
knowing that we were ever there, so PUT THEM BACK! And keep an eye on him, you
idiot!] Larry hated working for Mages.
###
Korrupt switched over to
Pater Tempus. “Tempus, how’s that contingency diagram coming along?”
[Don’t rush me, don’t rush
me!]
“I’m not rushing, you have
plenty of time. I’m just asking how it’s coming along.”
[I’m starting on the glyphs
of the second concentricity. I triple checked the first concentricity before
starting the second.]
“Good to hear. Porter says
that our bunny is in the trap. Bete Noir and the Anti-Paladin are each in
place, I have a mobile surveillance unit covering the church, our second string
is primed and ready, and I’m just about to send in the first string.”
[Then WHY are you annoying
ME?]
“Just keeping you in the
loop, Tempus.” When Pater Tempus started muttering about disrespectful punks
and their damned techno-toys, Korrupt signed off and switched over to Bete
Noir’s link. “So, Bete, how is it, where you are?”
[The music stinks, the
décor bites, the drinks are watered-down, the prices are jacked-up, the bar
snacks are stale, and so far, three accountants in knock-off Armani have tried
to hit on me.]
“I MEAN, how’s your viewpoint?”
[Oh, THAT rocks. Only thing
here that does. I have a clear view of Rockefeller Center, and I can see down
Fifth Avenue, and into the Ice Rink. And, as advertised, there’s that party for
the kiddies, down by the rink, complete with Santa. Aaawww… how kyuuute…
one little darling just threw up on Santa. Between one and two hundred kids of
varying social standing and their adoring parents- or au pairs at least. And
there are TV crews covering the party, and radio personalities- if that’s the
word- doing live broadcasts.]
“Are you wearing your
Teleportation Locator? Your force field and buckler units? The First String
Control unit?”
[Yes, Daddy, I’m wearing
all your lovely little gifts.]
“Is your second team still
with us?”
[Oh, they ain’t goin’ nowhere,
until I tells ‘em to. Hey, Korrey, this plan … it’s kinda complicated, inn’t
it? I mean, why don’t we just GRAB her?]
“That’s the beauty of this
Bete; the base plan IS simple. All the frills are either distractions or
contingency plans, in case something goes wrong. If the base plan goes off
without a hitch, well, better safe than sorry. If the base plan goes wrong, we
have things to fall back on. AND, best of all, they don’t conflict with each
other, so we can pick and choose the one that works best for the situation that
arises.”
Korrupt could ‘hear’ Bete
smirk over the link, [Man, would you just LOOK at all those rugrats, soaking it
all up?]
“Well, let’s do our best to
make this Christmas memorable for them, shall we? I’m going to touch base with
the Anti-Paladin, and then light things off.” When Anti-Paladin confirmed that
he was ready, Korrupt hit the switch.
###
Darryl was poking the very
snow-like material of the ‘snowman’, trying to figure out what it was for, when
the snowman jerked to attention. Then Darryl screamed as the snowman wrapped
its frigid arms around him and started sucking up all the warmth in Darryl’s
body.
###
NYPD DISPATCH: “All Units,
all Officers, Paranormal Alert! 911 reports multiple calls from all Boroughs
about snowmen attacking pedestrians. Yes, I repeat, SNOWMEN. Not men dressed as
snowmen, but Snow men. Be on the lookout for these snowmen. Stop and
detain them if possible, provide assistance to hypothermia victims. DPH has
been alerted, ERs are gearing up to accept the victims. SWAT, RER [Rapid
Emergency Response] and PSS [the Power Suit Squad] are being activated. The
Deputy Chief has given provisional okay for Officers to accept assistance from
Superheroes. The Empire City Guard and the Flying Squad have been alerted, and are
on their way. Jeez, we’d turn on the frickin’ Bat-Signal, if we had it!”
KMAN Eyewitness News
Emergency Alert! “We interrupt our
‘Brady Bunch’ marathon to bring you this fast breaking story. There are
multiple reports of Snowmen- yes, SNOWMEN- running amok throughout the city and
attacking people. From eyewitness accounts, they appear to be seeking body heat
from their victims. If you see one, DO NOT approach it! They are very
dangerous, and they appear to be immune to small arms fire. From the report
that has just been handed to me, there are reports of these snowmen popping up
all over the city all day, but until about twenty minutes ago, they were simply
a curiosity. As of this report, we have no idea as to where these snowmen came
from, why they are attacking people, or what their greater motives are. We will
keep you notified of any developments as they occur.”
KGTH News Helicopter: “Right now, we’re hovering over the Brooklyn Bridge,
which is clogged with snowmen who are coming over the bridge into Manhattan. We
are getting reports from the Williamsburg, Manhattan and Queensborough Bridges
and Lincoln Tunnels of similar situations there, with animated snowmen blocking
those venues. Traffic is at a complete standstill. SWAT is on the scene, but
they are having little success keeping the snowmen out of Manhattan. I’m
getting a report that the Flying Squad has arrived at the Manhattan Bridge, and
is assisting DPT personnel.”
###
Bete Noir watched the
report on the penthouse bar TV. She calmly opened her cell phone and called
Korrupt. “Hey, Korrey, the First String is all over the News. You want I should
push the button on the Second String?”
[Sounds about right. We don’t
want the snowmen to get too close too soon. After all, we do want everyone to
get the wrong idea.]
“Y’want I should make a big
entrance with the boys?”
[Sure, why not? They’ll
only wonder why the big evil mastermind hasn’t shown his hand if not. If
nothing else, it should confuse the hell out of ‘em.]
Bete got up, secured her
tall fur hat, made sure that her sweeping long coat was still concealing her
catsuit, and walked out on her bar tab. She rode the elevator down to the lobby
and walked out onto the street, where three school busses were parked. She
touched the ‘Alpha’ in each bus with the ‘power ring’ that Korrupt had given
her, making sure of her link with each band. “Okay, Boys- PARTY TIME!”
###
Roger Kellogg was on site,
signing glossies, posing for pictures, and occasionally going on the air with
his patented brand of ‘Genuine Noo Yawk Sass’. He was just making a snide
remark about the traditional season’s production of The Nutcracker,
when teams of men dressed as Santa Claus rushed into the plaza from three
different directions. They were all carrying Uzis, which some of them used to
fire warning bursts. A tall woman wearing a glossy black latex catsuit that
showed off ALL of her curves, with matching bronze ‘demon’ mask, breastplates,
forearm guards and disc-link belt strolled forward and struck a pose, cracking
a jazzy looking whip.
Security was right on the
scene, weapons drawn. The bitch with the whip took them out in less time than
it takes to say it. “Okay,” the whip-mistress blared. “Listen up! I am BETE
NOIR, and I am in charge of this situation! Get used to it!”
Roger didn’t even try to
stifle his snicker. “Oh, gimme a break! Who are YOU supposed to be? The Elf
that hated Christmas, or something?”
Bete lashed out with her
whip and dragged Roger from behind his table by his neck. She grabbed him by
the collar, but then saw the banner on the table. “Roger Kellogg? Wow, like,
you’re my favorite DJ, y’know? So, I’ll be nice t’you.” Then her pleased
expression evaporated and she snarled, “I won’t rip your heart out! So, shut
the FUCK UP, and maybe you’ll live to tell people about this!”
She threw Roger to the
ground and yelled to the demonically possessed Santas, “Round up all the kids! I
want them all in one place! Mash anyone who tries to stop you!”
###
High above Manhattan in
their VTV transport, ‘the War Wagon’, members of the Empire City Guard watched
the TV broadcast of Bete knocking Roger Kellogg around. “So, shut the FUCK UP,
and maybe you’ll live to tell people about this!”
Doctor Thunder chuckled,
“Well, I’ve never heard of this ‘Bete Noir’ before, but at least she’s got style!”
“She’s a punk,” Paladin
muttered.
“Aaawww… just because she
got to slap Kellogg around before YOU did!”
Then Bete gave the order to
round up the kids, and it wasn’t funny anymore. “Okay, the other shoe has
dropped. Now, all we gotta do, is figure out WHY this ‘Bete Noir’ is pulling
this, and how those snowmen figure into it. Wanda, contact the airborne
members, and tell them to head for Rockefeller Plaza.
###
Bete’s first clue that the
Guard was on its way was static on some TV screens. Bete was a savvy enough New
Yorker to know that that meant that Magno-Man was on his way. Then she spotted
the War Wagon circling the Rockefeller Center buildings. She waited until
Junkyard did (his? her? its?) trademark dramatic leap from the hovering vehicle
(with its usual damage to the concrete). She ducked in among her ‘Santas’ and
hit her Teleportation Cue. As she winked out, an image of her fitted itself
over first one, then another of the ‘Santas’, one at a time.
When Bete appeared next to
Korrupt and the Anti-Paladin, Korrupt started, “Bete! What are you doing
here?”
“What? I’m goin’ in with
you guys!”
“Bete, we NEED you at the
Plaza!”
“So, I go back, right after
we nab the Padre- I wanna be in on the Big Entrance!”
“You’ve already HAD your
big entrance!”
“Don’t bother,” Kurtz
rumbled. “She’s made up her mind, it would take too much time to talk her out
of it. Besides, the whole thing keys on Carmody’s mental link with the kid. If
having a dominatrix there kicks up his panic factor in the slightest, we go for
it. The LAST thing that we need is for the kid to be a no-show. But-” Kurtz
turned to Bete, “once we’re on the roof, you go BACK to the Plaza and keep an
eye on things.”
“When did YOU become one of
the bosses?” Bete pouted.
“When we ran down to one
LAST chance, before unmitigated failure.” Kurtz took a long deep cleansing
breath. “Okay, is the Capture Web on the roof all set?”
“Yep, I checked it after
Pater Tempus finished; it’s perfect, as far as I can tell.”
“The Back-Up?”
“Up and ready to go.
“ ‘Plan C’?”
“I have everything calibrated
and ready.”
“ ‘Plan D’?”
“Well, I have MY end
ready.” Korrupt held up three innocuous transparent triangular wafers, “But
Pater Tempus was only half-way done, last I checked. I’ll check with him.”
“Don’t bother. The last
third is the smallest and should be the quickest to do. Rushing him would only
start him fussing, and he’d get sloppy again.” Kurtz took two of the wafers,
hung one on one of the tabs of his cape, and handed Bete the other one.
Korrupt looked at his
gauntlet control panel. “Okay, by my mark, the snowmen are converging on
Rockefeller Center. Every White Hat in New York should be safely looking
everywhere but HERE.” He hit his link. “Larry? How’s everything in the
ballroom?”
[Boring.]
“Good. Now, hold onto your
hat! I’m going to jump you.” Korrupt checked his readings. “Larry’s in the
taxi, and warming up the engine. He should make sure that our pigeon gets here
without running into any Good Samaritans.”
“I still say that this
whole trap thing is too fucking complicated,” Bete fussed. “Why don’t we just
shoot her with a tranq dart, or gas her, or sum’thin’?”
“Drug an already upset
teenage mutant with magical powers?” Kurtz snarled, “Why don’t we all just
stick our heads in microwaves and set them on ‘char broil’?”
“Besides,” Korrupt said as
the elevator door opened. “This way, we make the statement that WE are the
Grand Hall’s heavy hitters, and people had better damn well get USED to it!”
“KEWL! Let’s ROCK!” Bete
enthused.
###
Father John had a minor
epiphany. The key to success in politics wasn’t charisma, or insight, or
toughness; it was endurance. Things didn’t get done quickly, so in order to get
anything done at all, you just had to keep at it. Indeed, from the impression
he was getting from Bishop Spengler, it took a lot of work just keeping in
touch, let alone doing anything. He had the impression that Bishop Spengler was
working an angle with Kerry and him; he just wished that he knew what it was.
Then the doors to the
ballroom opened, and a wave of ‘ninjas’ flooded into the room. Three dramatic
figures stepped in, a woman in a glossy black dominatrix outfit, a man with a
technology-laden greatcoat and a kerchief mask over his face, and a man in red
and black plate armor. Rather anachronistically, the man in armor was carrying
a machine pistol instead of a sword or a mace.
Everyone froze, except for
Bishop Spengler and Father John. Father John didn’t recognize the dominatrix or
the man in the greatcoat, but he knew the Anti-Paladin by sight. Father John
went for his cell phone, just as Bishop Spengler reached for something in his
coat pocket.
The man in the greatcoat
touched his forearm, and a series of rings emerged, binding the bishop hand and
foot before he could completely bring out his crucifix.
The woman lashed out with a
whip that reached improbable distances and destroyed Father John’s cell phone,
even as he was searching the speed-dial for Brother Phillip’s listing.
“Nah-ah-ah!” she tutted merrily.
The Anti-Paladin strode up
to Father John and slammed a fist into the priest’s midsection without breaking
stride. As the wind was knocked out of Carmody, he was thrown over the
Anti-Paladin’s shoulder. “Yes, Father, I agree, this IS getting old. Don’t worry,
I assure you this will be the very LAST time!”
Bete Noir zapped a couple
of partygoers on general principles as they left. As they got into the elevator
for the roof, she touched Carmody’s brow and burned negative energy right into
his brain. “Juuussst to be on the safe side!”
Father John Carmody felt
the greatest cold, soul-wracking fear that he’d ever known.
###
Kerry was on her bed,
splitting her attention between a book on the lives of the Saints, and the
little 6” b&w TV, following the emergency broadcasts on the chaos that was
going on throughout Manhattan.
And suddenly, she knew, she
just KNEW that Father John was in mortal peril.
She wasted precious moments
scrambling up the stairs, then down the stairs again when she realized that she
was barefoot, going back up the stairs and back down again to pull on a pair of
jeans, and then slipping into her silk ceremonial robe, as it was freaking COLD
out there!, She wrapped the white blanket around her head as a matter of pure
habit. As she stormed up the stairs, she almost immediately crashed into Sister
Esperanza.
“Kerry! What’s the matter!”
“It’s Father John! They’ve
got him! He’s in danger!”
“Who’s got him?”
“I don’t know! I just know
that I’ve got to SAVE him!”
###
‘Another cold, miserable
night, waiting for something weird to happen,’ Suki Sanchez sulked. as only a
person who’s being paid five figures per annum to spend a lot of time sitting
around can sulk.
Then the bells of St.
Gregory’s began to ring. And, by some bizarre sympathetic reaction, the bells
of Our Lady of Sorrows also began to ring, and Suki made out the sounds of
church bells ringing all over Manhattan.
“Earl! Saddle up!
Something’s gonna happen!”
Proving that Suki’s
journalistic instincts were worth something after all, Earl got his camera up
and running and pointed at the doors of St. Gregory’s just as they burst open.
The Angel of Hell’s Kitchen, in full dazzling white glory, head wreathed in a
brilliant halo, came out with a small Asian nun just behind her. The few hardy
vigil holders held their breath, but Suki got her microphone up for the
interview of her career- the Angel of Hell’s Kitchen, live and unmoderated!
The nun was trying to hold
the Angel back, “No! You’ve got to wait!” The Angel somehow reached inside herself,
and a pair of glorious lambent white wings appeared on her back. The Angel
lifted off, as the nun tried to hold her back. The Sister only succeeded in
pulling the white mantle off. “NO!” The Sister cried as the Angel flew away. “Can’t
you see that it’s a TRAP?”
###
Jorge watched in sick
horror as he watched the Angel fly away. He could feel the horrible wrongness,
but he’d managed to stay here, as he figured that it was those assholes pulling
something again. He’d stayed to protect her, but now she was flying right into
their arms and …
‘And when did she learn how
to fly?” Cursing loudly, El Penitente climbed up to the roof, to follow her as
best he could.
###
Brother Phillip came
charging out and asked Sister Esperanza, who was wringing the unsullied white
blanket in her hands and praying, “What happened?”
Sister Esperanza pointed up
at the fading point of light in the night sky. “She’s … she said that she’s
going to help Father John …”
Brother Phillip hit a
contact button. “It’s going down. Saddle up, get in touch with the right
people.”
###
Larry Porter, sitting down
the street in the cab, goggled at the sight as the ‘angel’ lifted off into the
sky. He managed to pull it together enough to open his communications link.
“Korrupt? Korrupt, she’s flying your way!”
[Well? What are you waiting
for, idiot? Go offer her a ride!]
“You don’t understand!
She’s FLYING your way! With wings?”
[WHAT? Wings? When did she
get WINGS?]
The Anti-Paladin cut in
[This is NOT a problem! So, she can fly! All that means is that she’ll get here
quicker, and there’s less chance that she’ll wonder why a New York cabbie is
being so helpful, getting her up to the roof. If anything, this just pushed the
schedule up a little, which only works in our favor. The less time it takes,
the less chance there is of some idiot poking his nose in and screwing things
up. And speaking of that- Pater Tempus! Is that backup trap ready yet?]
[Yes, it IS, and I do NOT
appreciate-]
[BETE! Stage Three is
complete. Initiate Stage Four!]
[BAM! Time to kick it UP a
notch!]
###
KNYT Mobile News: “As you can see, we’re hovering over Rockefeller
Center, where a mysterious new supervillain calling herself ‘Bete Noir’ has
taken the Rockefeller Center Christmas party for children hostage with an army
of almost a hundred men who are, or at least were, dressed in Santa Claus
outfits. Her reasons for doing so, remain unclear, but so far, none of the
hostages has been harmed.
“Compounding this, is the
fact that the living snowmen that have been rampaging through New York have
converged here, and appear to be gathering together to form a colossal snowman.
Yes, a gigantic snowman. And, don’t ask me where the giant carrot or top hat
came from, ‘cause I just don’t know.
“The Empire City Guard and
the Amazing Three have arrived, and they have engaged the Evil Santas. The
Guard has had some success in getting several of the children to safety, but
the Evil Santas appear to be more than just thugs with guns.”
“A further development is
that a few minutes ago, the Bells of St. Mary’s and St. Patrick’s cathedrals
began ringing for no discernable reason. Hold on, I’m getting some new
information … It seems that just as church bells around New York started
ringing, the ‘Angel of Hell’s Kitchen’ emerged from St. Gregory’s church, and
is now FLYING in this general direction! Exactly HOW this relates to this
situation, I’m not really sure, but we will keep you updated as new
developments occur …”
###
Mega-Girl swooped in among
the gathered children, scooped two of them up into her arms and let a third
drape herself around her neck. As she started to lift off, one of the ‘Evil
Santas’ came roaring at her, hefting his submachine gun as a club. Marty gave
him a kick in the chest that would have sent a normal man to the ER, but he
just flew back, bounced back up and came back for more. But before he could get
there, she and the kids were well out of his reach. Mega-Girl deposited the
tykes well behind the police barricade, and went back for more. En route, Dr.
Thunder flew up to her and said, “Mega-Girl! What are you DOING here?”
Marty flashed a confident
superheroine smile and said, “Where else would I be, but with the Empire City
Guard?”
Dr. Thunder gave a loud
martyred sigh as she let off a round with her large golden ‘thunder-gun’,
knocking one of the Evil Snowmen to bits. “Look, Megs, we’ve been over this a hundred
times! You are still a MINOR! We can’t ethically allow you to endanger your-”
“Yeah! Yeah! And in the meantime
you’re allowing this bitch to endanger little kids!”
Dr. Thunder picked off
another snowman, and was about to reply, when Marty cut her off, “Y’know,
you’re only making them stronger when you do that. They just pull themselves
back together again, or one of the other ones packs the slush into Frostzilla
over there.”
“I KNOW that! I’m just
trying to keep them from completing whatever it is they’re doing before
Sentinel manages to get here! Stupid crowds! Megs, if you insist on being here,
why don’t you do something helpful and-”
“And knock a mega-chunk out
of Old King Cold!” Marty interrupted. Without waiting for Dr. T to correct her,
Mega-Girl zipped at the bottom ‘ball’ of the huge snowman. Unfortunately, she
didn’t knock any of the snow out, and instead, got stuck halfway into the snowball.
Paladin flew over, grabbed
her by the feet and pulled her out. “Mega-Girl? What are YOU doing here?”
“Hey, just doing my-”
Marty’s retort was cut short when Paladin managed to duck the titanic arm the
huge snowman was swinging about, … but she didn’t.
Marty went flying, but
Captain Quantum caught her in mid-flight. “Mega-Girl? What are YOU-”
“I was on my way over to
give you my new application, OKAY? Aaawww … c’mon! I even got out of school two
days early!”
###
There is something of a
convention, that says that when a person suddenly discovers that they can fly,
they are immediately adept at it, flying like a bird. Kerry, however, was
wobbling around like a kid learning to ride a bicycle. She stopped dead in
mid-air to get some balance, but temporarily lost her sense of where Father
John was in the process. As she scanned the unfamiliar New York rooftops, she regained
her sense of where he was, but at the same time, Sister Esperanza’s words came
back to her.
Now that she had an instant
to think about it, it WAS obviously a trap. The same goons who had grabbed
Father John four days ago were probably trying to get her out of the church for
some reason. If the last time was anything to go by, they probably had some
sort of magical trap laid, just for her.
But she had absolutely NO
idea of what kind of trap it was, or how to avoid it. And she HAD to help
Father John! But how to help him, without making it worse by getting caught in
a trap? What would Jorge tell her to do?
‘He’d tell you to go get a
cop, and let people who know how handle it,’ she realized
Looking around, she saw the
bizarre shape of the humungous snowman, made ghastly in the dark by the
reflected light from Rockefeller Center many blocks away. Helicopters were
buzzing around it, like it was a frigid King Kong or Godzilla. Kerry smiled;
better than Cops- superheroes! They handled stuff like this all the time, and
best of all, those Grand Hall goons probably weren’t expecting them!
Using the sight of the
snowman to guide her, Kerry jetted off in that direction, straight as an arrow
this time. She circled the plaza a couple of times, trying to get a sense of
what was going on.
###
KNYT Mobile News: “Wait a
minute, there’s a new development! The Angel of Hell’s Kitchen has just arrived
at Rockefeller Center! She is flying around the plaza … We’re not exactly sure
of what this means … Could the Guard have called her in somehow as some kind of
divine backup? So far, of the Guard, only Legionnaire, who claims to be some
sort of Roman War God, has done the giant snowman any damage. Has the Guard
decided to call out the Big Guns?”
###
Bete almost spit out her drink
as she kicked back in the bar, (her doppleganger image was still playing over
the Evil Santas, keeping her image fresh in the public’s eye, while she was
nice and warm and safe in the bar). “What the FUCK?” She fumbled for her cell
phone and speed dial. “Waddya MEAN, the carrier’s down?”
###
Emotion washed over Kerry
like a tide. Fear. Curiosity. Maternal Concern. Courage. Wonder. It filled her,
and she knew that even as she had to help Father John, she HAD to help these
people. As she looked down, she could see Lioness and Heavyweight darting in
and out among the Evil Santas, getting as many kids out as they could, while the
other members of the Guard and the Amazing Three, kept the Evil Santas and the
snowmen busy. But they could only get two or three out at a time; there were
still dozens of children, and it was a miracle that the Evil Santas hadn’t
opened fire on them with those guns.
Hold it- no, not a miracle;
a distraction. This whole thing was a distraction to keep the cops and the
superheroes busy, while those Hall scumbags kidnapped Father John! She formed
her sword and swooped down, passing the blade through four Santas in one
gliding swoop.
###
“Shit!” Bete snarled. She
pulled her charm for controlling the minor negative spirits that she’d bound
into the street corner and department store Santas, and activated it. “Dogpile
on the bitch! Bury her!” Then Bete tried to get her comm link going again.
###
WMRV On-The-Spot-News: “Julia Sondergaard here at Rockefeller Center. The
Angel of Hell’s Kitchen has joined the battle here, and has attacked a group of
strange men dressing in Santa Claus outfits. These ‘Evil Santas’ have been
shrugging off most of the blows from veteran superheroes, but a single blow
from the Angel’s sword has brought down three or four of them. As you can see,
there is some sort of strange darkness emerging from the fallen bodies. Exactly
what this means… hold on! The Evil Santas are trying to dog-pile the Angel!
She’s swinging, but the numbers are telling … The Guard is trying to get them
off of her but- WHOA! She just got rid of them with a single blast of
tremendous power! Now she’s swinging, taking down one after the other … Some of
the Guard are running interference, and some are taking advantage of the break
to get the hostages out of the line of fire …”
###
“Korrey!” Bete finally
managed to get an answer.
[This had better be DAMN
important, Bete ; we’re expecting our pigeon any time now!]
“Well then, you’re waiting
for nothing, Shithead! She’s HERE, kicking my boys’ asses!”
[WHAT? Why would she be
THERE? Father John is HERE!]
“I dunno, Professor
Moriarty! Maybe the one thing that you and Alexander the Dickhead didn’t count
on, was that she’d smell a TRAP! Wadda we do NOW?”
[Bete, Calm Down. We DID
see something along these lines- maybe not something this big,
but we still have aces up our sleeves. So, we shift to Plan C on our end, and
Plan D on your end. Bete … You DO remember what Plan D is … don’t you?]
“Plan D? Plan D, Plan D,
Plan D, Plan D… OH! Plan D! Gotcha! Executing Plan D from Outer Space!”
###
Korrupt put the fine
touches on his outfit and looked at Kurtz. “The only reason that she’d go to
Rockefeller Center is to get some superheroes to come and rescue Father John.
Any ideas to make this look good?”
“It was a foreseeable
option,” Kurtz replied clinically, producing a remote, which he pointed at an
array of electrical units and cables. When he keyed the remote, a set of eight
large metallic boxes appeared at the corners and midpoints of the roof garden. He
pressed another key on the remote, and the boxes unfolded open, revealing an
assortment of SAM missile launchers, automated chain gun emplacements, energy
weapons and like that. “That should slow them down a little. And, how’s our
sacrificial goat?”
Korrupt made a few last
adjustments. “There. Perfect.” He patted Father John Carmody’s immobile cheek.
“Our lamb is ready for the slaughter. Not quite as perfect as Plan A would have
been, but then, you can’t have everything.”
###
The Evil Santas tried to
dogpile Kerry again, but this time, Dr. Thunder helped pull her up out of their
reach. “Oh, JUST what we need! ANOTHER over-eager rookie trying to muscle into
the spotlight!”
“HEY!” Mega-Girl snapped.
“FATHER JOHN!” Kerry outshouted
him, cutting off Dr. Thunder’s rant; “They’ve GOT him! They TOOK him!”
“What?”
“All this … It’s a
diversion! They want all the Cops and Superheroes busy, so they can grab him!”
“I think she means those
people that tried to break into St. Gregory’s those times.” Paladin said, “They
did again, and got Father John?”
“NO! They grabbed him
somewhere else … he was going to some big party to lobby some bigwigs … I think
they grabbed him there! He and I … I just sort of KNOW where he is, and when
he’s in danger! That’s how I found him the last time!”
“This hotel,” Dr Thunder
asked as she checked the heads-up display on her visor, “was it the
Narragansett on Park Avenue?”
“The Narraganset! Yeah,
that’s it!
“You’re sure?”
“Hey, how can you mistake a
name like ‘Narragansett’?”
Dr. T nodded. “911 reports
that that a party in the ballroom of the Narragansett hotel was attacked by
three unidentified costumed people, including a man in red armor, that Bishop
Spengler was attacked, and Father John Carmody was kidnapped. The hotel also
reports some sort of disturbance on the roof garden.”
“I think that it’s all some
sort of trap,” Kerry said. “They’re using this link that I have with Father
John to draw me out.”
“It’s a real chance,”
Lioness said, “if these are the same guys who sent out all those false alarms
four days ago. And scaling up the threat really IS the sort of thing that those
guys would do. Besides, it’s the only explanation for THIS cluster-fuck.”
“Yes!” Kerry yelped, “WHY
else would anyone send a bunch of goons in here, with plastic copies of
machine guns?”
“Thank God for cheap
crooks,” Dr. Thunder muttered, “OKAY! Cap, Dynamo, Magno and I will go and get
Father John away from these wiseasses; I think that our energy powers are only
feeding the Statue of Frostbite over there. Angel, you seem to be doing good
with these Santas, take care of them. The rest of you, keep that thing up there
from hurting anyone; it should go away when we take those yutzes out.”
“RIGHT!” Mega-Girl said
with bravura.
“Not you, Mega-Girl; go
home!”
“WHAT? But …” But by then,
the four heroes had lifted off and where heading out over the roofs of
Manhattan at top speed.
###
KGTH News: “There’s another new development; four superheroes,
Dr. Thunder, Dynamo, Magno-Man and Captain Quantum have all left the fight at
top speed. But what DOES this mean?”
###
“Heads Up, Korrey! You got
four bogies all headin’ atcha top speed! You want a roll call?”
[Thanks, but no thanks. We’re
covered. What are you doing?]
“I’m hoovering up all the
dark essence that that Angel-bitch let out’a my boyz; might need it later. Aaanndd
... that’s it! Now … Plan D!” Bete Noir reached into the purse that she
carried when wearing her long coat to stay ‘incognito’, as the puling masses
watched her dopplegangers among the Santas. She pulled out a photograph of a
snowman that was uncannily like the huge monster swatting at New York’s
superheroes. She read what was written on the back of the photo, without
really understanding what it meant; ‘Far av frost, slipe av hape, frosset
like issen, brekke ledig av den bur, visser din avrette blankett, og utleie
verden skjelving’. That done, she destroyed the picture with a burst of
darkling energy
The icy behemoth shuddered,
stopped, and seemed to draw in on itself. For a moment, Bete worried that she’d
somehow killed the big guy. Then, the smooth, patently artificial round ‘shell’
of the leviathan cracked like three stacked eggs. The plump unthreatening arms
shed their snow to reveal two long sinewy ice-blue arms that ended in long,
grasping claw like hands. The top hat toppled off the spherical blandly smiling
face, revealing the giant’s true visage. All in all, it was a brutal parody of
an old man. It was stooped over and its head was wreathed in long hair and a
beard that reached down to its knees. A nose like an icicle jutted forth from
its face, and under the bristling mustache a mouth like a cavern filled with
jagged stalactites yawned. The eyes under the huge bushy, rime-caked eyebrows
were pits, empty of any compassion. It was beyond ancient, but there was no
infirmity in it, but rather a timeless power that was steeped into its very
bones.
The crowd gasped in fear,
as they had no idea was it was. WMRV reporter Julia Sondergaard gaped in fear
as some nameless atavistic terror, born of some distant ancient racial memory,
sparked recognition. Her long Nordic features went pale, and her ice-blue eyes
went wide with fear. She whispered, “Ymir…”
Ymir opened his cavern
mouth even wider, and his roar was not the sound of a throat, but rather, that
of the ravening blizzard. The buildings surrounding him cut the wind, but a
freezing mist still filled Rockefeller Center, chilling everyone there to the
bone.
It was widely known that
Paladin was jockeying with Dr. Thunder for leadership of the Guard. He seized
this opportunity to show his stuff. He assumed a pose, pointed at the Frost
King and shouted, “Okay, everyone En Garde! Junkyard, he’s
got legs now- take them out! Heavyweight, ditto! Legionnaire, you and I keep it
busy. Everyone else, try and topple that thing!” With that, he and Legionnaire
flew up to the thing’s ten-story tall face with their energy swords out.
The second that Paladin was
high up enough for Ymir to notice him, the frost giant clapped two huge hands
around him, squashing him like a fly. When the hands parted, Paladin was
encased in a block of ice. The block shattered when it hit the ground, but
while Paladin could breathe, he was still out cold.
###
Bete touched her comm link,
“Pappy, Korrey’s busy. Our bunny’s out in the open, and I gotta make my move. I
need a couple’a dozen Virtual Minions, like right now, and could you
patch my doppleganger image over their template?” Pater Tempus fussed, and Bete
had to guide him through the process as best she could, but they got it done.
“Okay, double-click on my power ring icon, and the system should use the ring
as a point to rez up the minions.”
Bete’s ring glowed,
suggesting that it was ready to rumble. But there’s always that chance that
something could go wrong- she didn’t see HOW, but she’d been on the very brink
of winning before and some fluke had come out of left field- so a little
insurance was called for. She strolled over to the famous Rockefeller Center
Christmas Tree. This years tree was a Norwegian Spruce, as was traditional, and
stood 83’, 8” tall, according to the informational plaque. Yes, that should do
nicely, Bete thought. She placed the ‘Demon Seed 2.0’ unit, in which she’d
stored all the negative energy from her Santa minions, on the trunk of the
tree.
Bete stepped back from the
tree, pulled on her demon mask and shed her long coat. Before the gaping
spectators that recognized her could do anything, the area was filled with
twenty to thirty ‘Bete Noirs’. En masse, all went charging over the police
barrier and rushed the ‘Angel’ while she was still on the ground.
###
KTRB On-Location News!: “ANOTHER unexpected development in the Rockefeller
Center crisis! The apparent villain of this tragedy, a black latex-clad,
whip-wielding virago calling herself ‘Bete Noir’ has shown her hand!
Apparently, this ‘Bete Noir’ has the ability to form dozens of copies of
herself, and she is swamping the Angel of Hell’s Kitchen, who was apparently
the real target of all this. Police are trying to assist the Angel, but several
of the whip-wielding clones are keeping them at bay.
“New York’s superheroes
have their hands full with the Frost Giant. Paladin and Heavyweight are down,
Junkyard is frozen in a block of ice, and so far, only Legionnaire seems to be
able to affect it in any way. At this point, Lioness and the Amazing Three have
their hands full reducing damage around the giant’s feet. The NYPD Power Suit
Squad has arrived, and but they are committed to helping out with the giant.
WAIT A MINUTE! Someone is …
something is charging through the crowd! It’s … it’s a devil?
It’s … charging the Bete Noir swarm? Hold on, my assistant has just informed me
that that heroic person is El Penitente, who has been closely associated with
the Angel in the past few weeks. El Penitente is mostly known as a ‘street
hero’ here in New York, not really one of the heavy hitters, but he definitely
seems to be breaking into the big leagues tonight!”
###
Bete squirmed through the
mass of manifested latex minions- something that she normally would have really
enjoyed; talk to Korrupt about it sometime- trying to get at the Angel. Then,
she spotted the white of the Angel’s robes against all that black. She had the
Teleportation locator doohickey in her hand, ready to pin onto that nice, clean
and very strong silk robe, so that Korrupt could beam the little bitch right
into their hands whenever they wanted. And just as she was about to put it on,
she felt a large hand grab her by the back of the neck, pull her out of the
pile and throw her a good five yards back.
When she got her wits back,
she saw that dork, El Penitente, pulling her clone-minions off the Angel like
he was in a garden-weeding race. Well, if she did it right she could still get
the locator …
‘ Locator? Where is the locator?
It was right in my hands? I must have dropped it when he threw me! Where is it?
Damn! It’s small, transparent, and designed to be hard to spot!’
‘SHIT! ShitshitshitSHIT!
WHY does crap like this ALWAYS happen to me?’
She dived back into the
pile of minions, as were all the other ‘Bete Noirs’ but there wasn’t a
snowball’s chance in Hell of finding it. But, Bete didn’t trust Korrupt’s ‘Plan
C’ to work worth a damn, so they NEEDED to teleport … Teleport! Bete snatched
the linked ‘bracelet’ that housed her own teleport locator from her wrist. She
dug in close and got next to the Angel. YES! The little bitch was wearing white
jeans- ‘Oh hell, she’s wearing white jeans after Labor Day!’- under her robes. Bete
slipped the bracelet into the kid’s jeans pocket. YEAH! Let’s see them call her
incompetent NOW! Yeah, Bete Noir gets the job DONE!
Well, no reason to hang
around now! Bete climbed to the top of the pile and used the Bell Witch’s whip
to snag a flagpole and haul herself up to one of the balconies.
###
“We have incoming,” Dr.
Thunder reported clinically. “Multiple signatures in a locking pattern. I’ll do
point defense; Magno, you scramble their guidance. Cap, you neutralize any that
get past me. Dynamo, you shield us all from shrapnel and anything coming our
way that doesn’t have a signature.” With that, she reconfigured her thunder-gun
for range and accuracy, and keyed the anti-missile sequence for her on-board
computer. Targeting circles appeared on her visor in the optimum interception
pattern, and she began to blow them out of the sky.
They approached the grand
old Narragansett hotel from on high, inviting fire in a way that discouraged
collateral damage from missed shots. From her vantage point Dr. Thunder made
out what she took for a human sacrifice situation. There was a large painted
circle with lots of mystical looking crap all over the place. There was a makeshift
altar, with a gagged man in a cassock stretched out across it, bound hand and
foot. There were two braziers framing a masked guy wearing a long coat draped
with all sorts of techno-gimcrack, waving a nasty looking knife and she got the
impression that he was yelling something. And most of all, there was the
Anti-Paladin, holding one of his BFGs, firing at them with a will.
Magno-Man simultaneously
scrambled the controls on the remote controlled anti-aircraft emplacements and
ripped them off their moorings. The sacrificer began throwing some sort of
energy blasts at them, as he raved about how nothing would stop him from
sending Carmody’s soul to Hell. The battle was short and pitched, and involved
techno-hellhounds and odd female ‘ninjas’ that wore latex outfits and used
whips.
Finally, the Sacrificer was
at the end of his rope. “FOOLS! You leave me no CHOICE! Now, I must use my
ULTIMATE POWER!”
“Oh, ‘Ultimate Power’,”
Dynamo scoffed, “like we’ve never heard THAT one before!”
“BEHOLD! The V’rlethic
Vortex of ALL-CONSUMING HUNGER!”
“What?” The Anti-Paladin
yelped. “We never agreed on THAT!” Kurtz took one look at the fang-studded
circles of power beginning to form around the man, ran for the roof and jumped
off.
“Okay, people, I think that
we can assume that this idiot hasn’t just programmed his DVD recorder from his
cell phone. All together, and maybe we can prevent this thing from completely
materializing!” Dr. Thunder reset her thunder-gun to ‘maximum damage’ and aimed
it straight into the middle of the building fury. “On THREE! One! Two!”
“STOP!”
On pure ingrained reflex to
the voice, Dr. Thunder pulled up and looked for its source. “Dr. Lodgeman?
Reverend Englund? What are YOU doing here?”
Lodgeman and Englund
stepped from the door of the roof garden elevator, accompanied by an extremely
attractive aristocratic young woman in an extremely chic and becoming outfit.
“Ah, T?” Dynamo snapped as
he kept resetting his aim, “We have a something, something vortex of
all-consuming something to stop here!”
“No you don’t.” Lodgeman
drew a thing that looked like a cross between a rattle and an abacus and shook
it over the form of the madly gesticulating sorcerer. The sorcerer’s form ran
like a watercolor painting in a heavy rain, revealing the cassock wearing form
of Father John Carmody, muzzled and strapped into some sort of exoskeleton.
“It’s the old ‘Trojan Horse’ ploy. They wanted to get their man inside St.
Gregory’s disguised as Father John. And the best way to make the switch would
be for al of you to destroy the real Father Carmody, ‘rescuing’ the impostor.
That ‘vortex’ display had absolutely NO protective value, whatsoever.”
The ‘Father John’
‘strapped’ to the altar let out a loud “SHIT!”, touched a stud on his
‘shackle’, and disappeared in a black ball.
As Lodgeman examined the
details of the ‘summoning circle’, Dr. Thunder asked Reverend Englund, “So,
this is an Academy matter?”
“Not yet it isn’t,” Englund
responded. “But we have great hopes.”
“How did you know what was
going on?”
“We had an … informant ...”
Englund gestured at the elegant blonde, who was wearing an outfit that was
similar to, but not quite the same as the one she’d had on when they came in;
Dr. T noticed things like that.
The exquisite young lady
looked over Lodgeman’s shoulder. “I can’t personally say that I care for what
they’ve done with the roof garden.”
“This diagram is actually a
very sophisticated trap,” Lodgeman reported, “If a being heavily charged with
Malkuthic energies had entered this point, she would have been contained in a
snare that turned her own energies against her.”
“She? You mean this was a
trap for the Angel at St. Gregory's?”
“Kerry?” Father John
blurted as the muzzle with the loudspeaker over it was removed from his mouth.
“Where is she? I know that she was very upset; did you manage to stop her? Is
she safe?” Charlie and Englund shared a significant look, and the lovely
socialite disappeared into the very fabric of the grand old hotel.
“She came to get us,
Father,” Dr. Thunder reassured him. “She showed up at the Rockefel- whoa, wait
a minute.” Dr. Thunder hit her com. “Paladin! We took them out! Squawk back!
Paladin? Paladin? Heavyweight? Junkyard? Legionnaire? Anyone?”
###
Bete strolled over to where
her overcoat, purse and hat were stashed near the big Christmas tree, taking in
a big breath of fear, despair and misery. After scrounging around in all that
miserable good will for weeks, it was good to have things back to normal
again. Well, emotionally scarring little kids and terrorizing their parents was
dirty work, but someone had to do it! Then her com link buzzed. [Bete !
This is Korrupt!]
“Heeeyyy … Korrey! How’s...
Wait a minute, if you’re undercover-”
[Bete , ‘Plan C’ is a bust!
Unexpected Third Party intervention of some sort that I still haven’t figured
out. Bete , this is important- how close are you to getting the
locator on the kid?]
“Ah, well, y’see-”
[Oh, JEEZ, Bete !]
“HEY, Listen UP! I LOST the
locator that you gave me!”
[Oh, Hell…]
“Hey, it was due to
‘unexpected Third Party intervention’; I think you’re familiar with that! BUT I
improvised! I took the locator that you gave me and slipped it
into the pigeon’s pocket. She’s real busy right now, and I’m pretty sure that
she doesn’t have a clue that it’s on her. So, just pull the switch, Kronk!”
[Uhm, that’s good,
Bete , but-]
“But? What But? Just pull
her in, all the hard part’s done!”
[Bete , that’s YOUR
Teleportation locator. It’s keyed to your biometrics]
“My Bio-Rhythms? How’d you
get my bio-rhythms?”
[Your Bio-METRICS. It’ll
only work for YOU, for Security reasons.]
“You’re not asking me to go
back out there, reach into her pocket and touch it, so’s to beam both of us
back, are you?” Bete asked with equal parts asperity and dread.
[No, it’s still good, Bete we
just need you back here ASAP, ‘cause I can’t call up your Kirlian pattern. You
patch that in on this end, and it’ll work as planned.]