“I'd prefer to just shoot him in the head.”
Cloak sighed.
“Do you guys know where Ga...Ultragoddess and her team are working from? Can we get in touch with them?” I asked. If there were superheroes in town, it seemed like a good idea to try to coordinate our efforts.
Of course, neither of my henchmen knew about my past relationship with Gabrielle or the fact while on the moon, I'd coordinated with her off-the-books team, Shadow Seven.
As insane as it sounded, America's sweetheart and the daughter of the world's greatest superhero was doing anti-government covert operations against the worst tyrants and organizations in the world. Her team was composed of repentant criminals and heroes willing to work outside the law.
All of them were willing to fight and die to get the job done. The Society of Superheroes couldn't be seen operating against legitimate civilian authorities but as President Omega's decision to abandon Falconcrest City's citizenry proved, sometimes you needed to do just that. I just never expected the S.O.S to have the balls to do it.
“I'm afraid not,” Diabloman said, frowning. “Mandy was our chief contact with them and they've always been on the move throughout the city. They're the chief targets for the Brotherhood of Infamy as you might expect. By comparison, we've only had a dozen or so attacks against our headquarters.”
“If by headquarters, you mean my house, I think I may have thwarted one against you. Three hundred and fifty odd zombies plus a bunch of undead superheroes came against me a few blocks away from you.”
“Anyone we know?” Cindy asked.
“Mary Martian.”
“No!” Cindy said, aghast. “My mom loved her!”
“I should warn you,” Diabloman interrupted our digression. “Ultragoddess' team has supervillains on it other than the Black Witch. It's also staying off official channels and mesmerizing many witnesses to have a dim recollection of events. I'm immune to such and keep a hypno-wheel for undoing what was done to Red Riding Hood.” He gestured to Cindy. “I do not know what the S.O.S is up to but it is not right.”
“Superheroes and supervillains working together just isn't right,” Cindy said, disgusted. “It throws the entire dynamic off.”
“Leave that to me,” I said, not wanting to reveal I considered them friends. “I know how to handle them.”
Diabloman and Cindy exchanged a concerned look.
“As you wish,” Diabloman said, speaking for both of them.
Five minutes later, we were outside the Falconcrest City Opera House. I'd managed to park the Merciless Mobile in the bushes, having knocked over six parking meters in the process.
Diabloman stared out the window. “Your parking needs a bit of work.”
“I insist this was all deliberate,” I said, unbuckling and stepping out. “I saw no reason to let the autopilot do all the work.”
“I did,” Cindy said. “The fact you suck at driving.”
I gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t cloud the issue with logic.”
The opera house was typical architecture for the city, looking more like a cathedral than a place to put on musicals. It made me wish someone would tell the city council colors were not the antithesis of a well-ordered community. Even brown or red would have been a welcome change from the endless black and stone edifices.
“Do you have a plan, Boss?” Diabloman asked.
“Yes, I want you guys to sneak in while I go in guns blazing to distract him,” I said. “You take out his henchmen or monitor the situation and report back to me via cellphone. Whichever looks like it would help more.”
Diabloman looked guilty. “I don't think that's going to work.”
“Why?” I asked.
Diabloman pointed over my shoulder at a group of punks in white plaster masks carrying M16s.
“Ah, that.” I held up my arms in surrender.
Chapter Four
Our Confrontation with Angel Eyes
The punks surrounded us in a circle, aiming their M16s at my head. Their leader said, “Don’t try anything funny.”
My immediate reaction was to be less than impressed. “I'm sorry, but who the hell trained you? When you're carrying guns, do not encircle an opponent. You're only going to end up shooting each other.”
The punks moved to one side, forming a firing squad. Their leader, a man with a mohawk under his plaster mask, said, “Thanks for the tip.”
“You're welcome.”
“Gary, what was the point of that?” Cindy asked.
I blanched. “I don't know, I was hoping to think up something in the few seconds that would buy.”
“Did you?” Cindy asked, sounding hopeful.
“Nope. I got nothing.”
I could turn intangible but in the time it would take me to grab Diabloman and Cindy, all three of us would be gunned down. I couldn't set them all on fire either, at least from what little I knew of my powers.
“Any suggestions, Cloak?”
“Go with them.”
“A fat lot of help you are.”
“Who are you talking to?” The punk leader asked.
“Santa Claus,” I said. “He says you've been a very naughty boy.”
The punk looked at me strangely. “Huh?”
“Sorry, my wife has been kidnapped so I'm off my game,” I said. “I'm usually much wittier.”
“No, you’re not.”
Lead at gunpoint into the opera house theater, I saw the stage had redecorated as a miniature house. There was a banquet table, expensive paintings, a bedroom, television set, and couch. It was like Angel Eyes lived on the stage.
I tried not to think about where he went to the bathroom.
Moments later, a fog filled the air and it convalesced into a six-foot tall man with blond hair and a well-toned body. He was wearing a white suit looking like it came from the Nineteenth century, complete with cape and shoulder tassels. True to Cindy's depiction, he was gorgeous, Brad Pitt level gorgeous. There was just the small issue of the white plaster mask covering his face.
“Behold the glory of Angel Eyes, mortals!” the criminal said, spreading his arms out. “Gaze upon my visage and know were my face not so tragically deformed, you'd bow before me in reverence.”
“Huh. He is David Bowie,” Diabloman made an uncharacteristic joke.
I snapped my fingers, expecting him to burst into flames. Nothing happened. Staring at my fingers, I snapped them again and again. Angel Eyes just stood there, looking resplendent in his ridiculous outfit.
“I told you your powers wouldn’t work,” Cloak muttered.
“I didn’t believe you,” I shot back then made the mistake of looking at him directly. Cindy was right, he was damn good looking. Not even the fact he was wearing a plaster mask impeded how flat out sexy the dude was. A fact I was not often inclined to observe about dudes.
Cindy nodded. “I want you to know, I won't betray you for at least ten more minutes.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I didn’t find her joke to be all that funny, if joke it was.
Supernatural beauty was one of the less common superpowers but still in existence. Many people debated it, really, since so much about beauty was in the eye of the beholder. It was a mental effect, though, as much as physical with as many men possessing it as women. Simply put, it was a quality about a person which implanted the idea they were beautiful and you should do anything to impress them. Guinevere and Succubus possessed it and, apparently, so did Angel Eyes. I couldn't help but start questioning my sexuality after just thirty seconds of gazing at him.
He was using it passively, though, so it only took thinking about Mandy being his prisoner to shake me out of it. I had to be wary, though, as using it directly against us might be more dangerous than any spell he could hurl at us. The Black Witch could boost her appearance with spells and that had led to whole teams of trained Foundation for World Harmony willing to turn their guns on themselves.
I myself, made the mistake of accidental
ly taking a potion which granted me supernatural beauty in college. I'd ended up locking myself in the bathroom for a week out of fear and disgust to its effect on the heterosexual women around me (and a couple of gay male friends).
Angel Eyes might actually be capable of convincing Cindy to betray us.
Or Mandy.
Crap.
“Shut up you two.” The mohawk-wearing punk smashed me in the gut with his rifle before aiming his rifle at Cindy.
Before I could react, Angel Eyes lifted up a hand which shot forth glowing lightning. The mohawk-wearing punk was consumed in an instant, disappearing in a shower of light.
“It is not polite to strike guests,” Angel Eyes said, his voice solemn. “It had been my hope to settle this honorably but you have violated my request to come alone.” Angel Eyes's voice was almost melodic. “I must now deal with you the same way I deal with all dishonorable men.”
Angel Eyes lifted his hand again and I grabbed the punk nearest to me, using him as a shield. The lightning washed over the gangster, disintegrating him the same way the previous one had been.
The other punks reacted by pulling their guns up at my face, only for Cindy and Diabloman to grab at their weapons. Diabloman managed to disable two at a time, taking their M16s under his arms and aiming them at the ones Cindy hadn't been able to cover.
“Toss your weapons on the ground,” Diabloman said.
Seconds later, the remaining punks tossed their guns on the ground and ran away. I took a step forward and shook my fist in his general direction.
Angel Eyes looked at the sudden reversal with a bored disinterest. At least I think it was bored disinterest. It was hard to tell through his plaster mask. “How very droll. To think I went to all the trouble of immunizing myself to your powers for this.”
“Well, you didn't know you were dealing with a criminal mastermind like me,” I said.
“Yes, I did.” Angel Eyes wrinkled his nose.
“No, you didn't,” I replied.
“Yes, I did!” Angel Eyes snapped.
Cindy put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. “Please!”
“Sorry! Okay, Adonis, where is my wife!?”
“She is safe,” Angel Eyes said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It was she who came to me rather than the reverse. Your wife has been attempting to unite the various gangs and criminal organizations remaining in the city into an alliance against the Brotherhood of Infamy. I found her company charming and foreseeing your return to the city was imminent, decided to make out an invitation for you to come.”
I blinked. “So, she's not been kidnapped. You just implied she was because you're a jackass.”
“Hold your tongue,” Angel Eyes said, waving his hand and removing my mouth. One second it was there, the next there was nothing but a smooth plate of flesh where my lips used to be.
I made a finger gun with my right hand and aimed for the stage lights above his head, causing several to fall by melting the metal holding them up. Angel Eyes was caught by surprise by this, allowing me to generate an anvil made of super-dense packed ice over his head and cause it to fall on his head.
There was a hint of unease as it became clear I wasn’t going to be helpless against him. He might be immune to direct use of my powers but didn’t appear to be such by use around them. I was about ready to conjure a cube of ice around him then burn away all the oxygen inside when, much to my surprise, he waved his hand and restored my mouth.
“You've made your point,” Angel Eyes said, surprising me. “Perhaps you are not a mere jack-a-napes playing at the games of gods.”
I felt my lips in order to make sure they were there. “Oh, are we friends now?”
“Gary—” Diabloman started to say. Clearly, he didn't want me picking a fight with this guy. “We are outclassed here.”
Cindy then surprised me by pulling out a pocket-sized 1950s looking ray gun from her picnic basket and aiming it at Angel Eyes. “I've got you backed up. This was designed to kill Wrathion Space Vampires and they're magical.”
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
“Remember FalconCon 2012?” Cindy asked. “With Captain Galaxy and the Astronomers as the guest speakers? I kind of picked this up after blowing—”
“Eh, eh, eh,” I raised my hands in surrender. “I don't need to know the details.”
Captain Galaxy and the Astronomers were space explorer superheroes with the latter empowered by the UItra the same way Ultragod and Ultragoddess were. They were just far weaker. Captain Galaxy had no powers but made due with astronaut training, a jet-pack, and a gun very much like that. He was also known as a relentless horn dog that made use of the constant stream of groupies most superheroes eventually acquired.
“I figured it'd be nice to have some power so I've been picking up toys from the various supervillains you've killed,” Cindy said. “It's also amazing what the cops will let you have out of the evidence lockers if you pay them.”
I made a mental note of that for future reference. “What do you have in that picnic basket anyway?”
“A lot more than it looks like,” Cindy said. “I had Mechani-Carl outfit it with an extra-dimensional space and some magical cross-wiring. Oh and Angel Eyes, he’s way closer to Venus than you.”
Angel Eyes coughed, then looked directly at Cindy. He became slightly indistinct and as beautiful as an angel. “Surely, you don't want to shoot me?”
Cindy blasted his table. “Looking at you is like falling in love but Gary pays me. I know which I choose.”
I should have been heartened by that but I wasn't.
Diabloman sighed. “So be it.”
The Mexican Marauder proceeded to touch the side of his suit, which I knew covered a huge number of magical tattoos. Spring forth was a huge hellhound which was about the size of a small car. The hellhound was made of fire and shadow and looked like a wolf-shaped Balrog from the Lord of the Rings movies by Peter Jackson. The creature spit little spurts of fire and clawed at the chairs around it, tearing them to pieces.
I suddenly felt a lot better about our chances.
“Please,” Angel Eyes said. “Heel.”
The hellhound whimpered and covered its face with a burning paw.
Okay, I was back to feeling awful about them.
Angel Eyes looked down at us. His aura of beauty made me weak in the knees but I refused to buckle. Instead, I concentrated on the words he spoke. Like a commanding god, he said, “I have been researching your team since it debuted a month ago, Mister Karkofsky. I did not like the Nightwalker, he was an arrogant controlling busybody—”
“Also rude, condescending, and irritating,” I added.
“Ha-ha,” Cloak said.
Angel Eyes didn't stop to acknowledge my words, “—but I respected him. You are an inadequate inheritor. When I saw how much effort your bride was putting in to saving this city while you were off the Twelve knows where, I knew you were unworthy of her too.”
“You want to know unworthy?” Cindy said, keeping her ray gun trained on him. “We used to date too.”
“I find that perfectly believable,” Angel Eyes said.
Cindy looked like she was ready to fire that instant.
“Hold,” I said, holding out my hand. I didn’t want to kill Angel Eyes just yet. I had his measure now. I’d met plenty of guys like him before who measured themselves by lording over other people. He wanted me to stand there and take it as he lectured me on how much better he was. The problem was, I wasn’t the kind of guy to sit around and take it.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “I get it, you're crushing on my wife and trying to make me feel inferior. This, despite the fact you're living in a frigging opera house with a high-class version of a paper bag over your head. You're right, I don't deserve Mandy and I thank God every day she came into my life. However, if you think you do, that you have any right to lecture me on being the person she fell in love with—you are dreaming.”
Angel Eyes looked at me and for a second, I thought he was going to go nuts and start hurling spells like Gandalf.
If so, I was ready to go Balrog on him.
So were Diabloman and Cindy.
That was when we had a surprise visitor. Mandy Karkofsky stepped out from behind a nearby stage set wearing an elegant black dress and high heels. Her hair was up in an Audrey Hepburn style and she looked stunning.
“Okay, I was downstairs looking over the food stores we’re about to deliver to the citizenry when I heard all sorts of—” Mandy stopped in mid-step. She seemed stunned at my presence. “Gary?”
I knew my wife well enough to know she was manipulating Angel Eyes. She was a smart and cagey enough woman to play on whatever feelings she perceived from him to get his help to assist the citizens of Falconcrest City. I doubted she was interested in the supervillain. Seriously, at least. My wife might have a type given her history with two previous supervillains of mixed morality but I'd never had cause to doubt her fidelity. It still hurt, however, to see her wearing that sort of outfit for someone else.
“Hey Mandy,” I said, waving. “Good to see you.”
“My lady.” Angel Eyes looked embarrassed. “I was just warning your husband about the fact the zombie forms of the Ice Cream Man and Typewriter, those supervillains he killed last month, are searching out him.”
“Oh, is that what you were doing? Because you didn’t mention those two losers in your speech about how much I sucked,” I said, having well and truly had enough of his shit. “Oh, and, Angel Eyes?”
“Yes?” he turned to me.
“Goodbye,” I said, pointing my rifle at him and opening fire.
Chapter Five
Where I Negotiate with Angel Eyes
All of the bullets I fired at Angel Eyes bounced off an invisible force field surrounding him. The shots ricocheted and took out three stage lights and one of Angel Eyes's punks. They screamed and went instantly, bleeding out on the ground. Thankfully, none of the bullets hit Mandy.
The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2) Page 4
