Hero Least Likely Series (Book 2): Van Houten Rising

by Michelinie, Jessica

  As I enter the hall, a swell of jazz music suddenly surrounds me. Wow. This place is swanky with a capital ‘S’. On one side of the room are rows of circular tables adorned in fancy white tablecloths with guests dining on gold platters and drinking champagne out of crystal flutes. On the other side people are milling about and dancing to the live band. The whole room is made of marble and accented with gold. Waiters are carrying around gold trays and shiny yellow flakes are strewn across the floor and tables. Based on this setup, I’d say the NYPD isn’t exactly hurting for money, but whatever.

  I scan the room for Alex but it’ll be pretty difficult to find her here in this big of a crowd. As I shoulder through the hundreds of cops, first responders, and health inspectors I catch sight of a few people who are definitely not your average working class law enforcement. They must be philanthropists or billionaire playboys or something because they look like they’re wearing Gucci from head to toe. There’s floor-length gowns and tuxedos and bowties and I think I’m underdressed.

  I swipe a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Thanks, man.” I murmur, though I don’t he can hear me over the cacophony of tipsy chatter and bragging.

  I recognize a few people standing by the bar. Cops who’ve given me looks of slack-jawed wonder as I flee crime scenes. Some who have even given me the head nod before, like they were trying to let me know they support me and my cause. And some who have definitely threatened to arrest me if I so much as step near a crime scene ever again.

  It feels a little weird being around all of them without my mask on. I feel exposed, but I just keep telling myself there’s no way they’d recognize me. Seriously, they’d have to have some major facial recognition to recognize me from just my eyes. I sidle up to the bar and take another look around for Alex, but there’s no sign of her.

  “Whiskey.” I nod to the middle-aged bow-tie’d bartender. He looks skeptical for a moment, like I’m not the usual clientele who orders straight liquor. “Neat.” I assure him with another nod.

  Ah, sweet, golden comfort. Will Alex be mad if I hide in this dark alcoholic corner for the night? It’s not like I don’t want to meet her colleagues and smooze with the city’s top law enforcement officials, but... well, actually, I don’t. I know in my rational mind that there’s no way anyone here could know who I am, but this still just feels really weird. I also just kind of want to wallow in some self-pity for a bit. I am newly jobless, after all.

  “Something really interesting in the bottom of that glass?”

  I look up. A sleight and thin redhead about my age is leaning up against the bar beside me. He smiles a little and I can’t help but be reminded of the nerdy guy in The Breakfast Club. He’s sporting a surprisingly sophisticated looking tux. Wonder how a guy his age can afford such a thing. Maybe it’s rented.

  “Um, no. Just, uh... not much of a party person. More of a sit-alone-at-the-bar-type.” I twist my mouth into a small smile just to be polite.

  “Ah. Right, well–vodka soda, please–I know what you mean. I’m also not so big on crowds. Especially a roomful of cops, right? Jeez, really makes an innocent guy feel guilty, know what I mean?”

  Not really. “Ha, yeah. Sure do.” I kind of want to remind this guy that sit-alone-at-the-bar-types don’t usually like to be bothered by random people at the bar, but I just keep sipping. Maybe he’ll get the hint.

  He looks around the room with a smile, shoving one hand into his tux pocket. “Hey, you know, you look kind of familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

  My heart constricts. Fuck. Is this guy being serious or is he just messing around? Does he really think he’s seen me before? I look up from my glass and laugh a forced, stupid laugh. Do I sound nervous? I probably sound really nervous. “Um, well, y’know, I’ve just got one of those faces. People tell me that all the time.”

  “Do they? Huh.” Red takes a long swallow from his drink as the bartender hands it to him. “So, what do you do to make our city safer?” He asks, casually. Too casually. Am I paranoid? I think I’m paranoid. “Oh, oh, let me guess. You’re... a paramedic? First responder?”

  I shake my head, trying to not let him see me head-on. “Uh, no. No, actually, I’m just–”

  “My girlfriend.”

  My head snaps up and relief floods me. Alex, my beautiful knight in shining-holy-god-that-dress-is-beautiful... My eyes go a little lazy as I see what she’s wearing. She described this dress to me a few days ago but refused to let me see it in person before the benefit. It’s long and white with a high neck and a slight trail. I feel like a cartoon character with my jaw hanging open.

  When I finally regain control of my motor functions, I slide off my barstool and smile stupidly at the red-head. “Yeah, I’m–I’m just a chef.”

  “Mr. Van Houten, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” Alex offers her hand to him. “I’ve been looking forward to your presentation all night. My name is Alex Winters. I’m a detective with NYPD.” I look back and forth between Alex and Mr. Van Houten, apparently. Okay, now he looks really familiar. And why does that name sound familiar? Who is this guy?

  “Ms. Winters, the pleasure is all mine. I can’t tell you how excited I am about Van Houten Industries’ collaboration with your department. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around the precinct.”

  The bright lights of the hall start to lower and Van Houten glances upward.

  “Ah, in fact, that’s my cue, I believe. Nice to meet you both.” He smiles politely at me and hurries off through the crowd and towards the stage. Weird. I turn towards Alex and kiss her hello.

  “Hey,” She murmurs, smiling hungrily as her eyes run up and down me. “You look really good. I’m glad you’re here. I was getting bored talking shop with all these beat cops.”

  “Yeah, sorry I’m late. Um... burglary on 2nd Ave. Who was that guy?” I nod at Van Houten’s receding back.

  “Who, Tate Van Houten? Oh, he’s the head of Van Houten Industries, huge tech corporation stepping in to upgrade NYPD’s gear. They do a lot of interesting work, actually. Started in genetics, but now they’ve moved on to... oh, it’s starting! C’mon, I’ll show you our table.”

  Alex takes my hand and leads me through the dispersing crowd as other attendees wander off to their own seats. I see my name on a small card beside Alex’s seat at the round table he settle into. There’s a few older, wealthy looking couples at our table all focused on the huge screen lighting up above the stage in the center of the hall, each at least two or three drinks ahead of me.

  A booming voice that sounds like Mr. Moviefone streams through the speakers. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our honored guest for tonight, Mr. Tate Van Houten!” There’s a roar of applause and cheers as the lights go completely out and a video begins playing on the screen.

  There’s a shot of smiling children. Then, smiling adults on a green, lush looking farm. Then, a generic laboratory filled with smiley, hard-working scientists fills the screen. I sigh. How long is this going to be?

  The narrator starts. “Our life is filled with uncertainties. Natural disaster, disease, poverty, crime... but there are things that you can be certain about. Van Houten Industries is the foremost leader in genetic editing.” An orchestral soundtrack swells and I roll my eyes. I look over at Alex and she’s politely paying attention. Hm. How very adult of her. I guess this is technically work for her. “In the last five years, our work has eradicated thirteen different genetic diseases. We have cured disease in embryos, children, and adults.” Another shot of smiling, happy patients. Man, they really didn’t even try with this corny shit.

  I start to tune-out and find some lint on my pants more interesting than this. Finally, the crowd starts applauding again. Guess it’s over. Van Houten is making his way to the center of the stage, waving down at the crowds of people as the spotlight locks onto him. He approaches the podium and gives the microphone a couple of taps. Man, he looks really young to be head of such a big company. He kind of looks like a kid wearin
g an adult costume.

  “Good evening, New York City! Thank you so much for having me. I can’t tell you just how excited I am to be up here. Tonight, we’re all here for the same reason. We care about our city. We care about what goes on in our streets. We want our communities to be safe. Our neighborhoods to be protected. We want to sleep easy at night knowing that our children, our family, our neighbors, are safe. Isn’t that right? Now, we all know New York has had an exciting few months.”

  I knew it. I knew someone would bring up Metalia tonight. God, was he messing with me when he said I looked familiar? Does he know that I’m her? That she’s me? Is he planning on unmasking me in front of everyone here tonight? Okay, take a breath. Brain, you need more whiskey. Your paranoia is on high alert, which makes sense, but is a little illogical. Just wait and see what happens. If you have to, you can make a quick escape in the dark.

  “Superheros. I mean, really? Can you believe it? I guess if it was going to happen anywhere, it’d happen in New York.” The crowd chortles up at him. They’re eating this up. “I’ll admit that when news first came out that we had someone living among us with powers, with strength that most of us couldn’t imagine, I was worried. I wondered... what if this person isn’t a good human being? What if she’s not interested in the safety of our city? What is she wants to hurt us?”

  I feel Alex’s hand tighten around mine underneath the table. I think she knows how uncomfortable this whole thing is making me.

  “Now, I want to tell you something, folks. Van Houten Industries has been at the forefront of genetics research since our inception five years ago. But tonight, I’m here to announce a new focus for our future endeavors. A new path towards collective safety. Tonight, I’d like to show you the future of New York City...”

  The lights suddenly come up around him on stage. Behind him is a row of mannequins all wearing a sleek and shining black armor. I can’t tell what it’s made of, but it somehow looks soft and hard at the same time.

  “Biotechnology. Today marks a new day in Van Houten Industries’ history. Today, we’re forging ahead new paths in human ability!”

  Hey. Wait. That armor looks really familiar...

  The crowd goes wild. Some people get up to their feet and applaud like they’re at a freakin’ Knicks game. Who is this armor for? Citizens? Cops? Alex and I exchange weary looks. I don’t like where this is going. I was previously ambivalent about Van Houten, and now I’m straight displeased.

  “A demo, shall we?!” He exclaims, moving away from the podium. A couple of scantily-clad assistants emerge from the wings of the stage and meet him in the middle. They take his tuxedo jacket and vest. He walks up to one of the mannequins and removes the front plate of the armor. It’s a single plate only for the chest. Standing in front of the crowd, he places it up against his chest. Within moments, the material seems to multiply. It slinks around his back, down his trunk, his legs, his feet. It materializes out of the core piece and eventually covers every part of his body except for his neck and head like a tight, painted-on piece of material.

  “Helmet sold separately.” He purrs into the microphone. The crowd is going bananas, all eying each other with ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’. I’m not so big that I won’t admit I’m impressed. I’m also worried.

  He turns around with his back to the crowd and a couple of black cylinders are visible in the center of his back. From out of their ends a blue flame suddenly appears. Van Houten is lifted about three feet off the stage. He’s fucking levitating. Levitating by a jetpack. This is insane.

  He comes back down to the ground and walks calmly over to the podium, nodding and waving at the crowd again. “With our new developments in combat-wear, New York City’s police department will be better suited to care for you and your community. This is only the first in our new line of weapons and armor. The NYPD has generously allowed us to work with them on better serving our city. Oh, and criminals? Beware.”

  The roar of the crowd is deafening, but all I can do is sit there in silence.

  I wasn’t feeling very talkative before that little show, but now I’m feeling utterly deflated. I’m lost in my thoughts as Alex and I head to the subway a couple hours later. I can’t get my mind off of Van Houten and his big plans for the city. Was that armor intended to make me obsolete? Like is he trying to put cops on my level so that it’s not necessary for me to fight crime anymore?

  “You look sullen. I don’t like when you look sullen.” Alex murmurs into my ear, squeezing my hand as we walk along under some building scaffolding, heading towards the subway in the still-bustling neighborhood.

  I smile over at her, shaking away my intrusive thoughts. “Sorry. Don’t mean to. Just... worrying when I probably shouldn’t be.”

  “Don’t worry. Van Houten talks a big game, but I’m sure it’ll take months of bureaucracy and training protocols before those suits get into the hands of lowly cops like me.” One of my favorite things about Alex is how she can seem so carefree even in moments of total hopelessness. I look over at her and my uncertainties are almost immediately soothed.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I guess he just kind of rattled me.”

  “When he was talking about superheroes?”

  “Oh. Well, that too. But, no, earlier... he said he recognized me. When I was at the bar. He said he knew me from somewhere.”

  Alex’s laugh is so sudden it startles a a couple of little old ladies in front of us. “Oh, Marie, I’m sure that meant nothing. That’s what guys say to girls when they don’t know how to flirt.”

  A similar laugh spills out of me and I run my thumb over the top of Alex’s hand. When she’s right, she’s right.

  “Um, actually... I think I’ve seen that armor before.” I murmur thoughtfully.

  “What, Van Houten’s armor? What are you talking about? It’s brand new.” Alex asks, her brow furrowed in a small curve.

  “On the fireball lady. She––”

  “Who?” Alex tilts her head at me. I completely forgot. I didn’t radio in Alex or Shia to let them know what was going on. I’m supposed to, but it all just happened kind of fast, and if I’m being totally honest it’s a little distracting having voices in my ear while I’m trying to do my thing. Even helpful ones.

  “Oh... um, there was this woman I apprehended. She was wearing something black and shiny. I can’t really be certain, but it really looked like Van Houten’s armor tonight. It was sleek and...” I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m grasping at straws, but she said ‘there’s more of us coming.’ I kind of wrote it off as criminally-insane talk, but now I’m not so sure. If that is Van Houten’s armor, why did she have it? What did she mean by that?” I know I’m talking to myself more than Alex, but it feels good to say it all out loud.

  “Fireballs?” Alex looks incredulous and I know she’s wondering how I managed to let a woman shooting fireballs at me slip my mind.

  We meander down into the dark recesses of the subway and back towards Brooklyn, smiling stupidly back and forth at one another for the duration of the short ride. It’s rare that we get time to go out together, what with both of us having extensive night schedules.

  Alex is teasing me about a particularly stubborn piece of hair that’s apparently standing up straight in the back of my head when we reach my apartment. I pat down my pants and jacket pockets looking for my keys.

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Keys... not here.” They’re not in my jacket pocket where I thought I stashed them. Hope they aren’t with my Metalia gear stashed underneath the dumpster in the alley three blocks away.

  I knock on the front door a couple of times. Shia should still be up since it’s Saturday night. In fact, I think I can hear the sweet, dulcet tones of Gordon Ramsey through our thin plaster walls–

  The door swings open. “Hey, thanks, guess I left my keys with my...” My words die in my mouth. It’s not Shia standing before me. “Casey! What-what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming up until school let out.”
>
  My little sister stands in the doorway smirking at me in that I-can-tell-you’re-a-hot-mess kind of way. “Yeah, well, school did let out, so here I am. All yours for an entire summer.” She steps backwards to let me in and I can see her giving Alex an up-down. Instead of saying something snarky and sarcastic, like I would probably do, she smiles politely.

  “Oh, um, right, Alex, this is my little sister, Casey. Casey, this is my girlfriend, Alex.” I quickly move out of the way to escape their impending pleasantries. Casey, despite being the younger sibling, loves to push my buttons and embarrass me in any way she can.

  Alex follows me inside and holds her hand out to warmly greet the only other surviving member of the Carter family. “Casey, it’s so great to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Marie tells me you’ve just started studying pre-law. That’s wonderful, good for you.”

  “Well, someone has to be the smart one in the family.” Casey gloats, shutting the door behind Alex. Rolling my eyes, I head into the kitchen. Shia is horizontal on the couch and covered up to her chin in blankets. I squeeze her shoulder as I walk by.

  “So... much... takeout... can’t... move...” She mumbles, her eyes glazed and drowsy and locked onto the television screen.

  I laugh at her and dig into the fridge. I didn’t get a chance to eat after patrol tonight, then kinda lost my appetite at the benefit, and now I’m starving again. “I see you two have been busy tonight. Let me guess how many episodes of Hell’s Kitchen you’ve watched... six? Eight? Thirteen?” I pull out some leftovers of stir-fry I made the other night and grab two beers before relocating to our tiny kitchen table. I nod for Alex to come join me, removing the cap and handing her a bottle as she approaches.

  Casey plops back onto the couch beside Shia where I assume they’ve both been all night. “For your information... it was seven. Where were you guys tonight? You look like you were at the Met Gala.”