The Hero Beat

by Nick Svolos

We got to the Tower at about one in the afternoon. Workmen, armed with cranes, flatbed trucks and backhoes were still clearing the flight deck wreckage from the street in front of the building. They appeared to be making good progress, though, and they were already patching some of the holes in the pavement.

  The garage level didn’t look much different than it had when I saw it during the firefight earlier, although the bodies had been cleared out and a pair of tow trucks were pulling damaged vehicles out of the place. At the front desk, the guard on duty asked what I’d like done with my car. I asked if they could arrange to have it hauled out to my dad’s place in Norco, and offered to pay whatever charges might result. The guard told me that wouldn’t be necessary and that the car would be delivered later that day or the next.

  I decided to take a quick second and warn my old man. I didn’t want the him to freak out when my precious car arrived looking like that. I stepped off to the side where I’d be out of the way and dialed his number.

  “Hey Pop, it’s me,” I said when he picked up.

  “Reuben! What the heck have you gotten yourself mixed up in, boy? The TV has ya talkin’ in Spanish on just about every channel!”

  “Yeah, I know. The only guy I could think of to get me on the air works over at Telemundo, so I had to make do.”

  “Well, whatever you did, looks like you’re gonna be a celebrity. I even got a few people calling me! Told ‘em I don’t know where you are. So where are ya? You alright? You looked pretty banged up on the TV.”

  “I’m fine, dad. That’s why I called you. Didn’t want you to worry. The woody got wrecked. Someone’s going to drop it off later today or tomorrow.”

  “Oh, man, not the woody! What happened?”

  Herculene was trying to hide her amusement while listening in to my half of the conversation. I winked at her. “Someone knocked a pretty superhero into it. Listen, I gotta get going. Still got work to do. I’ll come by this weekend to see what I can do with the car.”

  “No worries, kid. See ya Saturday.”

  “Thanks, Pop,” I said.

  As I hung up, Herculene suggested, “How ‘bout we take a quick break before we go downstairs. I’d like to grab a fresh costume and clean up a bit.”

  “Sure. I’ll go up and collect my gear while you’re doing that. Should be safe to go home now.”

  We walked over to the elevators and headed up. She looked a little sad. “So, you’re leaving us already?”

  “If I stay much longer, I might get used to it and you’ll never get rid of me. You folks would get pretty sick of having me underfoot.”

  She grinned. “I doubt that, but it would probably look bad, considering your job. Meet back downstairs in ten?”

  “Yup.”

  It only took a couple of minutes to toss my stuff into the bag. While I was packing, I asked aloud, “Archangel, do you have any data on the founding members of Omega?”

  “Yes, Mr. Conway. The first recorded event involving Omega occurred in October of 2000 when they claimed responsibility for a series of armored cars robberies. At that time, the known members of the organization were: Storm Maiden, Glowstikk, Unstoppabull and Doctor Schadenfreude. Storm Maiden and Doctor Schadenfreude dropped out of sight in the first quarter of 2003. Glowstikk assumed leadership of Omega soon after and recruited Fist, Mechanista, Hammerblow and Electric Spider. Further information is available, Mr. Conway. Shall I continue?”

  I finished packing as I stuffed the final item, the Angel T-shirt, into my duffel bag. “No, thank you. Do you have any pictures of Storm Maiden?”

  “Yes, several.” The pictures appeared on the room’s flatscreen television. They all showed a woman wearing an orange and black number with full-face mask.

  It wasn’t what I was hoping for. Maybe Archangel could do something with the facial structure. “Any way to compare the face of Storm Maiden to Gail Crenshaw?”

  “My faceprint recognition algorithm indicates a ninety-percent chance of them being the same person.”

  I smiled. “That’s more like it. Can you email me the pictures to my account at the Beacon?”

  “Done. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

  I thought for a second. Glowstikk would be resistant to confirming the information I needed. I wanted an ace up my sleeve to break him with.

  “Can you replay part of the telephone conversation from the briefing room meeting this morning. I believe it started with ‘And now, I’m taking everything you care about.’”

  The voice of Gail Crenshaw emanated from hidden speakers as Archangel played back the audio. I found the part I needed and asked Archangel to flag that section for later use.

  “I think I have everything I need. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome Mr. Conway.”

  I took one last look around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, left the room and headed back downstairs. I left my gear at the security desk as someone came bounding down the stairs. I was pleased to see I wasn’t the only one who reacted as if we were under attack as Herculene came through the stairwell door. Three guards had their weapons drawn. She smiled sheepishly. “Uh, sorry guys. Just burning off a little excess energy. All clear.”

  We decided to take the elevator down to the Vault. Herculene gently bounced on the balls of her feet.

  “You still fired up from the fight?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Well, that and going down to a Vault full of prisoners. Adrenaline kicks in and it’s hard to turn off. Usually, I go work it off in the gym, beat up a heavy bag to tire myself out, but there hasn’t been time.” She smiled, “So what’s the plan?”

  “Glowstikk’s one of the original Omega members, so I’ll start with him. He’ll probably clam up if he sees you, so maybe just hang back so he doesn’t know you’re there.”

  “Got it.”

  By the time the doors opened on The Angels’ high-tech dungeon, Herculene had herself under control and her game face on. We walked out the doors and entered the Vault. There was a security desk just outside the elevator, with one large, glowing reinforced steel door on the left. It looked just a bit bigger than the cage in the van, and I figured they probably used the cage to keep their prisoners under control when they had to move them around.

  Herculene stated our business as I emptied my pockets into a plastic bin. The guard scanned me with a wand to make sure I didn’t have any contraband, and I asked if I could take my notepad, voice recorder and a pen with me. “That’s fine, Mr. Conway. Just be sure to stand well back from the security doors. They’re all reinforced with a static field, and you don’t want to touch it accidentally. The rooms are soundproof, so touch the pad next to the door to activate the microphone and speaker when you’re ready to talk to the prisoner.”

  He pressed a button on a panel and a red light lit up above the cell block door. The door opened and Herculene and I entered the Vault. The prisoner containment area had ten cells, five on each side of a corridor that must have been at least fifty feet wide. A long green stripe ran down the center of the corridor, and the doors gleamed with black metal, but the rest of the area was white. Two guards manned the cell block and one of them, a sturdy-looking woman I hadn’t met before, led us down to Glowstikk’s cell. Herculene stepped off to one side as I pressed the button on the panel that would allow me speak to the prisoner. A steel window in the door slid aside to allow me to see into the room. A wiry, grey-haired man in an orange prison jumpsuit lay on a cot in the corner of the cell. On the opposite side of the room was a steel toilet and sink protruding from the wall. The interior of the cell was bathed in the faint orange light of a nullifier. I pressed the record button on my recorder.

  The man looked up at me and irritably asked, “Conway. What do you want?”

  “Would you believe I’m doing my Christian duty, visiting prisoners?”

  “No.”

  “OK, then, I’m here to see if you want to give a statement for the press.”

  “Beat it, new
shound. I’m busy.”

  “I can see that. Lots of ceiling tiles to count. Still, this might be your only chance to get your side of the story out before the Feds come to get you.”

  Glowstikk sat up, resting his forearms on his legs. “Naw, I got nothin’ to say.”

  “Not even about Gale? I’m kinda wondering about that. She really set you guys up good.”

  He laughed, “Crenshaw? Goes to show how much you know. She took her orders from the same person we did.”

  I hid my reaction as I realized he thought I was saying “Gail”.

  “You’re out of your league, reporter boy.”

  “OK, then, enlighten me. Who are you taking the fall for?”

  “I ain’t sayin’ nothing. Scram.”

  “Sure. Just one more thing and I’ll go. What happened to Storm Maiden?”

  The man sat up straight at the mention of her name. He stammered, “She’s retired. She’s like, eighty years old or something.”

  “Except, she’s not all that retired after all, is she? She’s the one pulling the strings, isn’t she? Come on, man, I already know. I’m just looking for a second source. You trusted her, didn’t you? Of course you did. She created Omega. She recruited you. You trusted her and she set you up.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I smelled blood and moved in for the kill. “Archangel, are you there?”

  The AI’s disembodied voice said, “Yes, Mr. Conway.”

  “Can you replay the part of the telephone conversation from the briefing room meeting this morning. Just the part I flagged.”

  Gail Crenshaw’s voice emanated from the ceiling, “And now, I’m taking everything you care about. Your little French whore, your precious Tower, your pathetic team. I even brought down Omega, something you could never manage to accomplish.”

  Glowstikk jolted to his feet. “That’s bullshit! You made that up.”

  “’Fraid not, Glowstikk. That was her, wasn’t it? Storm Maiden?”

  “That bitch! She set us up!” He put his hands to his head and paced the cell. “Stupid!” he said as he punched the wall. He turned to me, his eyes desperate. “Conway, you gotta tell ‘em!” He ran to the door and jolted back as he made contact with the static field. “Dammit! You want a statement? We were set up by Storm Maiden. She’s behind the whole thing! You gotta tell ‘em that!”

  I smiled. “Thank you for your help, Glowstikk.” I heard him screaming my name as I pressed the button and turned off the communications to his room. The window slid closed.

  Herculene finally gave up on trying to stifle her laughter and let it out. “Oh my God, you’re evil!”

  “Evil is such a strong term, Herculene,” I grinned.

  ***

  It was mid-afternoon when we left the Angel Tower in one of their town cars to drive me back to Santa Monica. Herculene was driving, and I was struggling to stay awake.

  She asked, “So, other than the low comedy of watching you torment Glowstikk, what did we learn back there? Storm Maiden is one of Omega’s founders, right?”

  “Yup. And we now know that she was Gale, too. Kinda suspected it, but between Archangel and Glowstikk, I can confirm it. Your AI has pictures of Storm Maiden, Gale and Crenshaw, and they match up. The only thing I needed from Glowstikk was confirmation of who gave them their orders. Now we know. Omega’s sole purpose was to be the bait Gale used to bring Ultiman to LA. She knew he’d set up a team, because, well, that’s what he does. She masterminded Omega from behind the scenes to keep you guys from beating them, and then just bided her time, waiting for a way to kill him to present itself. She’s been setting this up for over fifteen years.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot of hate. Still, you gotta admire her determination.”

  We drove in silence for a minute before she changed the subject. “So, you’re going to be out at your dad’s place this weekend? Working on your car?”

  “Yeah. Saturday, anyway. I won’t be able to do too much until my arm heals, but at least I can get an idea of what needs to be done. That reminds me. Sinfonie’s invited us to her place on Sunday for barbecue. She wants to meet you in the real world.”

  “Uh huh, she mentioned that. Sounds like fun, so count me in. I take it this is a civilian affair?”

  I chuckled. “Well, the kids would probably go ape if you showed up as Herculene, but you should probably just be yourself.”

  “Sounds good. As for Saturday, mind if I come along? Your dad sounds like a great guy. I wouldn’t mind meeting the man who created you. Besides, you’ll need a ride out there.”

  Something about that made me a little uneasy. “Sure. Uh, you don’t think that’s moving a bit too fast? Meeting someone’s parents?”

  “That bothers you, doesn’t it? Moving too fast?”

  I shrugged and looked at her. “Well, in my experience, things that start fast tend to end fast. I prefer things that last.”

  Her face lit up with realization, “Oh, my God, that’s why you have that old woody! That old laptop, too. It all fits. Once you get connected to something you don’t want to let it go.”

  I tried to laugh it off. “Naw, I’m just a cheapskate. Besides, the woody’s really awesome.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, regarding me with narrowed eyes. “I’ve got you sussed, mister.” She became serious. “Come on, Reuben. Tell me the truth. What’s bugging you.”

  I took a breath. I’m used to getting other people to spill their guts, not doing it myself, but I felt she deserved to know how I really felt. “Helen, we haven’t known each other very long. It’s like, I just met you. I really like you, and I want to get to know you better. I think there’s a real good chance of something serious between us. But if that happens, I want it to last. I don’t want to mess things up by trying to rush it.”

  She smiled. “There,” she said with satisfaction. “Now, you know what Sinfonie told me.”

  “Figures. She’s always giving me a hard time about moving too slow.”

  “So she says. The thing is, I think it’s sweet. Not many guys like you out there.” She paused for a second as she pulled into my apartment building’s parking lot. “I guess the thing you need to know about me is, when I spot something I want, I tend to close my eyes and leap. I’m pretty confident in the whole concept of you and me. I want that. I think you do too.” She parked the Lincoln and shut it off. She turned to me and moved a bit closer. She said, “Reuben, you’re not gonna mess this up. I won’t let you.”

  It was a persuasive argument. Maybe it was because I was just too tired to fight about it, or maybe it was because she was sitting so close and leaving herself wide open, but I hauled off and kissed her. It took a while. I wanted to make sure I did it right. You know, it’s important to be thorough.

  We came up for air a little while later. Her eyes were still closed as she softly said, “You make a very good argument for things that last.”

  I grinned. “My point, exactly.”

  She smiled and straightened up. “Okay, so back to business. Let’s go on up to your place.” I raised my eyebrow suspiciously, but she explained, “Look, in every action movie, what happens at the end of the last act? The hero, that’s you, thinks everything is resolved, the danger’s over, and returns to his house. The psycho is waiting in there, lying in wait, bent on vengeance. So, if I drop you off and leave, there’s this big fight scene where you’re trying to defend yourself against God knows what, interspersed with scenes of me happily driving away, blissfully ignorant of what’s going on, enjoying the memory of what turns out to be our last kiss. Not gonna happen. I’ll walk up with you and make sure the place is secure before I go. No arguments.” She got out and started walking towards the stairs.

  I sighed and got out, retrieving my gear out of the back seat and hurried to catch up to her. At my door I unlocked it and let her go in first. She carefully and professionally cleared each room and I was suitably pleased when she proclaimed my h
ome to be unmolested and psycho-free.

  I said, “So, no last minute action sequence in this one, I guess. Nothing to do but roll the credits.”

  She smiled at me, shook her head and walked over to my door, closing and locking it. “Not quite. I do believe I warned you about how wound-up I get after a fight, and I’ve just been through the biggest fight of my life.”

  I couldn’t help but like where this was going. “I can see how that might be a problem. I don’t have a punching bag or anything like that around here.”

  Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she walked over and gently pushed me back into the bedroom. “That’s OK. I don’t think that’s what I’m in the mood for, anyway.”

  I guess I was wrong about there not being a last minute action scene, but I really didn’t mind.

  The End

  Reuben Conway will return in The Power Broker

  About the Author

  Nick spent over twenty years as an IT geek, developing, deploying and integrating a wide range of software products in the Project Management and Business Intelligence spaces. Now, he ekes out a living as a freelance web developer and spends the rest of his time writing about the stuff he loves, namely, mysteries involving superheroes and orks.

  He lives in Crescent City, CA, with his lovely wife, Charlotte, their sons Cody and Tommy, and couple of layabout cats named Sprocket and Daphne. Everyone in the house is an avid gamer, and their home echoes to the sound of tumbling dice. Daphne and Sprocket prefer games involving bugs, lizards and small birds, but they’re happy to take a whack at an unattended twenty-sider when they get a chance.

  If you’d like to contact Nick, learn about his upcoming books, get bonus content, or just shoot the bull, you can reach him at:

  www.NickSvolos.com

  One last thing…

  As an indie author, my books and I rely on support from our readers. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my others, please take a minute to leave a review. Thank you.

  Read On

  The adventures of Reuben Conway continue in The Power Broker.