by Barry Reese
Charity watched Li and Cedric’s flirting and was glad that her mask hid her face. If it hadn’t, it would have been all too obvious what sort of thoughts were going through her mind.
As always, the deadline appointed by The Voice took the forefront of her thoughts. How could it not? She only had so long before she’d either be condemned to eternal torment or find a new lease on life.
She turned to look at The Dark Gentleman, who stood at a window. He was staring out of it, digesting all that Gravedigger and Mitchell had said to him. The offer had been simple enough: they wanted him to join their organization. His detective skills were something that they needed and, in return, they could offer him support and a base of operations. It was, they said, time to elevate his status from rabble-rouser to something bigger.
The well-dressed vigilante had listened in silence, nodding thoughtfully every now and then. When the spiel had ended, he had risen from his chair and begun deliberating what his response would be.
When he spoke, his voice was low but quite audible. Cedric and Li fell silent, knowing that this was important.
“I’ve mostly avoided working with others. I like the freedom of being on my own and, to be honest, I recognize the fact that I’m not cut out for taking on the guys who want to blow up the city. My skill set is such that I’m better for punching out goons than I am for destroying weather-controlling machines.”
Gravedigger replied, “It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m not exactly a normal woman but the rest of the team are just human beings. They all bring certain talents to the group, though. And so would you.” She took a step closer and The Dark Gentleman turned to face her. “And we wouldn’t want to restrict your freedom. I’m not asking you to move in and be a full-time agent of mine. I’d just want to be able to call upon you. Occasionally, we run into a mystery that’s a little bit beyond us. You have the ability to look at clues and see things that others miss. You’d help me track down a lot of very bad people.”
“And then you’d kill them?” he asked. “That’s part of what gives me pause. I know the justice system in this town is corrupt. That’s part of why I do what I do. But I think circumventing the law is only going to make it worse. The last thing we need is to go back to the Old West, where the townspeople rise up to make sure that justice is served. I dream of a day when I can take off this mask and I’m not needed. Is that what you want?”
“Believe it or not, it is. Look, I don’t kill people because I enjoy it. I do it because that’s what I’ve been ordered to do. The Voice didn’t tell me to put people in jail. It told me to throw dirt on their graves. I answer to a higher power than any judge or police commissioner.”
“Right,” he said. “The Voice. I have to admit that I’m not sure what to make of that part of your story. Are you insane? Or have you really made contact with God… or some reasonable facsimile?”
Mitchell shook his head. “She’s not crazy. Not unless Josef was, too. And Mortimer. And all the other Gravediggers there’s been since the dawn of time, too.”
The Dark Gentleman looked at each of the people in the room, studying their faces. They looked like earnest individuals and he knew that Gravedigger was right. They did need each other. He opened his mouth, prepared to conditionally accept her offer, but a sudden chiming sound made everyone else in the room jump to life.
Mitchell held up his hands and said, “I’m on it. Everybody stay here.”
“What’s going on?” The Dark Gentleman asked.
Cedric answered. “We’ve had a problem with people sneaking onto the property so Mitchell ran some cable out along the main drive. Whenever someone drives over it, it sets off a small chime here at the house so we know to expect someone. Given the hour and the fact that all of us are here, it gives us some warning that it might be trouble.”
“Might be Mortimer,” Li offered.
“He called earlier. He’s at a political rally tonight.”
Gravedigger gave a little shushing sound as Mitchell returned. “Who is it?”
“They’re parking outside now—two vehicles and I recognize both. It’s Assistance Unlimited.”
“Did you invite them to join up, too?” The Dark Gentleman asked.
“No,” Gravedigger replied. “In fact, we don’t often get along. Lazarus Gray doesn’t think much of my methods.” She shrugged her shoulders at Mitchell as the doorbell began to ring. “Let’s get this over with, I guess. Show them in.”
Within moments, one of the most bizarre meetings in the history of Sovereign City—and, possibly, the world—was getting underway. To Gravedigger’s surprise, Lazarus had not only brought Assistance Unlimited with him, but also her old friend The Peregrine and a stranger who introduced himself as Catalyst.
After everyone had said hello and engaged in a bit of idle chitchat, Gravedigger brought everything round to business by asking, “What brings you here? I doubt it was a simple social call.”
“Unfortunately not,” Lazarus confirmed. He quickly outlined everything they had learned, from the rash of suicides, the visions he had received from The Unnervum and the information uncovered by both The Peregrine and Catalyst. “I think whatever is about to happen is too big for just us. That’s why I wanted your organization’s assistance.” He glanced at The Dark Gentleman and added, “Your presence is an unexpected bonus.”
“Why come here at all?” Li asked. “It’s not like you think the best of us. Or was Doc Daye not at home?”
“He’s not, actually. But I was already planning to speak to all the vigilantes in Sovereign and quite a few beyond the city’s limits. This is something that could pose a threat to the entire world.”
Samantha moved up to Gravedigger’s side and whispered, “Besides, I told Lazarus that your connections to The Voice might come in handy.”
Gravedigger stifled a sigh. She and her half-sister had grown up with very different lives. While their father lived with Samantha and raised the girl to have the best of everything, Charity had been forced to steal what she could in order to survive. Despite that, Samantha had made repeated overtures to try and bring them closer… and Charity had to grudgingly admit that Samantha was hardly the spoiled brat that she’d expected to meet.
“I haven’t gotten any messages from it but we don’t have that kind of relationship. The Voice speaks to me when it chooses and that’s not very often, which is usually the way I like it.” She glanced over at Lazarus and added, “But this Unnervum sounds pretty disturbing. I recently had a battle with a group of people who were trying to use a device to control the emotions and minds of others. It was definitely an awful thing4.”
“So where’s this Unnervum object now?” Mitchell asked.
“In the car,” The Peregrine replied. “Given its power, we thought it best not to leave it at Robeson Avenue. In fact, we’ve discussed letting both Catalyst and I handle it to see if we got anything different than what Lazarus experienced.”
“And I don’t think that’s wise,” Lazarus said. “I got the impression that Nyarlathotep told me everything that we’re going to get.”
“It was useful information to be sure,” Catalyst said. “Darhoth is a powerful entity and now that I know what to look for, I have been able to pinpoint her location. She is in Germany.”
Morgan frowned. “Where in Germany?”
“I’m not sure. My powers are not that specific, particularly given the amount of magical noise that surrounds the Nazi Fatherland these days. Hitler is amassing so many occult artifacts that it serves as static, hiding what’s going on there.”
The Peregrine couldn’t hide his surprise. “When did you have a chance to do your scrying?”
“On the way over. If you’re wondering how I was able to do it without a full ritual, you need to know that I’m not your standard magician. Even at my current state, I’m still The Catalyst. Give me some quiet time and I can do things that others might need a lot to pull off.”
“Impressive.”
&
nbsp; Catalyst gave a slight bow before turning back to the rest of the room. “So… we need to ask ourselves, what now? Do we take off for Germany, try to sneak past the Nazis and confront her before whatever plan she has comes to fruition?”
The Peregrine rubbed his chin. “Or do we wait for her to come to us? The vision I had specifically showed The White House. Makes me wonder if that’s where she plans to end up or if that was just some sort of symbolic image, giving me a clue what could to come to pass if she’s not stopped.”
The Dark Gentleman cleared his throat, which made everyone look over at him. He’d stayed silent up to now, feeling dreadfully out of place. It was this sort of thing that he’d purposefully avoided in the past. But he was here now and he thought that he might have something to add, after all. Looking at The Peregrine, he said, “You mentioned seeing a man on the roof of Assistance Unlimited’s HQ. The crystal ball he was holding… was it The Unnervum?”
“That’s what I was thinking. As soon as I got here and saw it, I knew it had to be one and the same. That’s another reason I didn’t want it left back at Robeson Avenue.”
“So I’d recommend that we use the size of this group we’ve assembled to our advantage,” The Dark Gentleman said. “Split up into three groups. Send one overseas to see if they can get into Germany. Leave another group here to protect Sovereign in case our enemies come this direction. The third group can go to Washington since that also figured into The Peregrine’s vision.”
Morgan seemed dubious. “So one group goes to Washington and does what? Listens to the radio? We have no idea what timetable any of these things have. That vision about the White House could be something that takes place ten years from now.”
“It won’t be that long,” Lazarus said. “I’m sure of that. We’re looking at something that could start breaking within days, if not hours. I do agree, though, that splitting up seems to make the most sense. I propose that I lead one group, Gravedigger takes one and The Peregrine commands the third.”
The Peregrine nodded. “Makes sense. So we just need to figure out who goes where.”
“And for that,” Mitchell said, “I think you three should have some privacy. How about the rest of us go grab a few drinks and maybe have some sandwiches? That way our fearless leaders can debate our strengths and weaknesses without worrying about hurting our fragile egos.”
A murmuring of assents followed and soon the majority of the heroes had vacated the room.
Gravedigger muttered, “Nobody even asked if we wanted sandwiches.”
The Peregrine smiled. “I think they were just anxious to avoid having to make these decisions.”
Lazarus didn’t seem interested in making any pleasantries. “Counting us, there are ten people to be assigned to the three groups. I think it makes sense for Gravedigger to remain here in Sovereign since both The Peregrine and I have private planes that can be used to travel to Washington and Europe.”
Gravedigger accepted that quickly enough. She had been thinking along those same lines, in fact. “I’m certain that The Dark Gentleman will want to stay in the city, too. He’s pretty single-minded about cleaning up Sovereign.”
“Agreed. Might I suggest that the Sovereign team consist of Gravedigger, The Dark Gentleman and Cedric Hendry? I think the three of you can handle things quite well.”
Gravedigger wasn’t surprised that Lazarus would be the one to take charge. It fit with his personality, which didn’t always please her. “Fine. How about the Washington team features Lazarus, Li Yuchun, Mitchell Williams and Eun Jiwon?”
Lazarus considered it and quickly agreed. “It might be hard for them to hide in Germany, that’s true. The current climate over there isn’t conducive for non-Aryan peoples.”
The Peregrine crossed his arms over his chest. “That leaves Samantha Grace, Morgan Watts and Catalyst to accompany me to Germany. Good group.”
“We need to stay in touch,” Gravedigger said. “I’m sure the two of you have some way of doing that?”
The Peregrine reached into one of his pockets and pulled forth a tiny receiver, small enough to fit into a person’s ear. “I put a lot of money into relay stations secreted throughout the U.S. and quite a bit of Europe, as well. The farther apart we are, the most static you’ll receive but we should be able to reach each other and share updates about our status.”
“Then I’d say we should get started,” Lazarus said.
“Let our friends enjoy their sandwiches,” The Peregrine replied. “It might be the most peace and quiet they ever get.”
* * *
In Berlin, a much darker meeting was taking place. It was an overcast day in the city, emphasizing much of the dull architecture that was being erected all over the Reich’s capital. Dieter, Darhoth, Vulthar and Mr. Death were all gathered in Himmler’s office, a map of the globe spread out across his desk.
Himmler looked displeased and his voice reflected that as he asked, “And this has to be done? The Füehrer was surprisingly agreeable to this talk of a partnership but now you expect me to tell him that you’re sneaking off to Washington, D.C.? Preposterous!”
Darhoth was now dressed in a black uniform, similar to those worn by the S.S. She liked the propensity for darkness and ritual shown by the Nazis. Her long hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail that hung down her back. “My goals are wide-ranging ones, Herr Himmler, as I have explained. Mr. Death will go to Sovereign City. There is a mystic artifact there that can aid us. It taps into the emotional spectrum and can amplify it. Vulthar will remain here with Dieter to help with your Occult Forces Project and also to help prepare the way for my own allies. I will go to this… Washington, D.C.”
“Why? You have failed to make that clear to me.”
Darhoth seized a pencil and began to draw on the map. She circled several spots and then drew straight lines between them. By the time she was done, a pentagram had been sketched, with the exact center located at the site of America’s capital. “Because there are things in this world that your small mind cannot comprehend! Long ago, my brethren were locked away but our remaining forces made plans for their return. Vulthar will begin conducting several rituals here that will awaken the others… Mr. Death will seize hold of the device that will allow us to increase our hold over despair and chaos, two things upon which my kind feed, and I will be at the heart of it all, waiting to make the final move that will plunge your world into the hands of the Old Ones.”
“And into the hands of the Füehrer,” Himmler pointed out.
“But of course.”
Mr. Death sprang forward, leaping onto Himmler’s desk. He knocked the map askew and so startled the Nazi that Himmler nearly toppled out of his chair. The skull-faced man brought his visage close to Himmler’s and cackled, “Don’t be a fool, Herr Himmler! This is a marriage of the worst kind of convenience! She’s going to stab you in the back sooner than you can cry foul!” He held his palms upward and added, “Of course, you’d do the same to each of us so we’re good with it!”
Himmler stared at the horrific figure and tried to reconcile this madman with the Otto Luther he’d met previously. It was difficult, to say the least. Standing up, Himmler adjusted his uniform and turned his gaze upon Darhoth, though he still preferred to think of her as Sonya Schneider. “We will get you into the United States but I would caution you to be quiet until your plans are too far along to be foiled. America has a number of individuals capable of disrupting your actions. In fact, I have sent word that an agent dubbed Nimrod is to be placed at your disposal. He is on his way to Sovereign as we speak.”
Mr. Death chuckled. “So he’ll be at my disposal, then? With the emphasis on disposal…”
“That’s enough,” Vulthar said. He was looking at Mr. Death with undisguised distaste. “You’re going to frighten poor Herr Himmler.”
“It would take far more than him to accomplish that,” Himmler stammered though his tone made it clear that the opposite was true. He waved his hand dismissively. “Let
me know what you need.”
“We will,” Darhoth replied. She spun on her heels and led her companions from the room. Her movements were quite sensual now as she’d grown comfortable with her new skin. The sway of her hips was second nature now and she relished the way that these human men drank in her beauty.
In the dark labyrinth of her mind, she considered how brilliantly insane Mr. Death truly was. He knew the truth that she was going to betray these Nazis when the proper time came and she suspected that he also knew that she wasn’t sharing all the details of her plan with her own allies, either.
Dieter cleared his throat as the creature that had once been his daughter moved ahead of him. He was still the odd man out here, the only one who had not been transformed. “Are you certain that you have to go into the United States? It seems very dangerous.”
Darhoth turned to face him. They were in a walkway that connected two halves of the OFP labs and several large windows showed the dull gray skies of Berlin. She held his gaze for a moment, recognizing the disturbance that he felt. She was looking at him with the face of his daughter but he knew that Sonya was long dead, her spirit having been devoured by the Mother of Pus. Forcing a softness into her tone, she reached out and caressed his face, using his devotion to his daughter to manipulate him. “I will be careful, Father. When all of this is done, I will make sure that your loyalty is noted.”
Dieter seemed to shrink somewhat, his fear lessened by her words. “Thank you.”
Darhoth glanced at Vulthar and a silent command went from one to the other. Vulthar nodded, knowing that he was being told to keep a close eye on Dieter.
Mr. Death had wandered a short distance away. He had his palms and his skeletal face pressed up against the glass, watching the people in the streets below. “They look like ants,” he said. “Smash! Smash!”
“Come with me,” Darhoth said. “We must make preparations for our trip to America.”
“Land of the Free,” Mr. Death hissed. “Red, white and blue.” He laughed to himself. “I can’t wait for them to meet me!”
