Publicized Identities - Day 3

The Pantheon finally arrived at its personal headquarters. The garage was set up for the teens, with a pair of couches, an old TV set connected to a game console, and a small fridge with snacks and cans of soda. There was a mechanics bench that was meticulous compared to the rest of the space, filled with all of the tools one would need for any basic job, each clean and in its proper place yet still obvious that these tools were used.

The kids came in the side door, and each went silent the literal moment that they walked through it. Athena listened for a moment, then relaxed. "Okay, they're asleep. Just keep it quiet." They nodded, and all but Hermes went they places in the couches; he went straight for the fridge. He reached in and started throwing cans at each of his team mates. They caught them and popped them. He grabbed a handful of jerky, and crashed in his own place. He and Ares wrestled a bit over the jerky, but it was soon over and Ares had just over half of the jerky.

Athena slipped off her helmet, revealing red tresses braided to her shoulders and green eyes. Annabeth reached for her laptop and a USB cable, turning on the laptop and plugging in the cable in both her laptop and watch. She watched the file transfer and then pulled up the file.

As Annabeth played with the data, the boys pulled off their own helmets. Ares removed his breastplate as well, revealing the linebacker shoulders of Jonathan Taylor Swift, fullback for the Jack Kirby Wraiths. Hephaestus also removed his armor in order to change into a dirty T-shirt; Robert was thicker than Jonathan from years of lifting engines. Arturo removed his helmet so he scratch his unruly brown hair.

Annabeth smiled as she saved the file. The boys stopped whatever they were doing. After allowing her a few beats to savor her moment, Arturo was the first to break the silence. "And? How did we do?"

Annabeth flipped the laptop around so that they could see the screen. "Overall, we did pretty good. I'd like to see reaction time to their tactics go down a little, but once we did figure them out they were dealt with quickly and efficiently. One more mission like this and I think we're ready to start uploading our vids."

The boys grinned. Jonathan piped up. "Cool. Instant fame is almost ours!"

Arturo smiled. "Yeah, after a year of practice. Hopefully it's just what we need to create a demo reel for the Guild."

Robert started looking at his drone. "Looks I need to get serious about finishing the modifications to the equipment." He looked at Annabeth. "It'll be ready, but we'll need to finish the code for defensive maneuvers."

Annabeth looked at Arturo. "How's that going?"

Arturo pulled out his own laptop and fired it up. "Pretty good, actually. With Robert's help we should be able to test it this weekend." He glanced at Jonathan before looking back at Anabeth. "We are going to need the team jock's help. We need someone to throw balls at it in order to really give it a test."

Jonathan glared at Arturo before rolling his eyes and relaxing further into the couch. "I have practice Saturday from noon to four, and then I need a few hours Sunday to finish a report for Carter's class. Just give me a head's up."

Annabeth look at the other two boys. After an exchange of glances, Arturo looked back at her. "Sounds good."

Jonathan continued. "I can borrow a basket of balls from the equipment locker. Anything specific you two want to see in action?"

Another exchange of glances followed by a pair of smiles. Robert spoke. "Have fun. The more variety the better."

"I'll bear that in mind. I presume I am targeting for effect?"

Robert nodded. "Of course."

"Good thing I'll be warmed up then. We all wrapped up then?"

Annabeth looked at her watch. "Yeah, and it's late enough I'd suggest going to sleep."

The boys all nodded. Jonathan grabbed his shirt and headed out as Annabeth and Arturo powered down. They grabbed their laptops and walked out, with Annabeth locking the door after Arturo left; she closed it with just enough force to shut it as she walked through it. Robert turned off the light as he entered the house proper.

*     *     *     *     *

Don Pellegrino watched as his men filled the boxes with cement. Inside them were the feet of The Shrike, bloody but barely conscious. The remnants of his black and gray costume hung from his muscular frame, and thick chains held him where he was,even though he was beyond struggling. The men did not waste much time as they waited for the cement to set, checking the wires of their insurance device as they pasted them to chains with a thick rubber cement. The device would transmit a beep if any of the wires were cut or torn, letting them know if their prisoner had escaped from his bonds. (Don Pellegrino had gotten tired of heroes escaping only to come back later. This kept that from happening without him at least being notified of their escape.)

He didn't gloat, he didn't celebrate; he just watched the activities dispassionately. He just wanted to ensure that this hero was dead, and the sooner the better. They knew the risks of sneaking into his home looking for evidence, and sometimes they got caught. Those that got caught were interrogated for any useful information and then "disappeared", usually somewhere into the Adams River. He had debated posting their heads, or other body parts, onto a wall somewhere he knew that it would be seen, like his warlord ancestors did their enemies; the problem is that they then became martyrs that became rallying points for groups of heroes who then had evidence that could be used as excuse to attack him en masse.

"Disappearing" the invaders of his domicile eliminated those worries, just as the insurance device gave him notice if the invader in question escaped from his watery grave. So far it had been a very successful strategy.

The cements, rubber and stone, had both set and were beginning to dry. The wooden slats around his feet were removed and a harness put around The Shrike. He was soon lifted above an opening in the wooden floor, with the river below him. The harness was released and he fell into the cold river. The cold wetness woke him, and he struggled for a brief moment, but it was just token resistance; he had long ago given up hope that he was going to survive this, and he had never been given to think otherwise. He struggled more out of instinct than from any vestige of will, but his lungs filled quickly. In moments his heart was no longer beating and oxygen was no longer flowing to his brain.

The Shrike was unconscious long before brain activity had actually ceased. Don Pellegrino was satisfied that he was not coming back, even if immortality was one of his powers, and so retired from the scene. As he sat back in the Corinthian leather seats of his armored Hummer, his phone buzzed. He slid his thumb across it the biometrics unlocking it, and he saw that he had a text from one of his investigators.

He smiled.

He texted back to the investigator: "Bring him in. Make sure you wear the P-scramblers."

He loved it when a step in a plan was completed, and it looked like he could now move on to the next step of his plan to bring Tandem to its knees.

*     *     *     *     *

The sun broke as Wolf broke up. He let himself enjoy the sun for a moment before focusing. He had to act as "Lucas Prentiss" for the day, as much as it pained him. He got dressed and headed down to the dining room. A simple breakfast of eggs florentine waited for him, while a bowl of Chocolate-Coated Sugar Bombs and a gravy boat of milk waited for Yosef. He smiled; the boy was taking full advantage of not being in his strict sect. He read a few pages from the newspaper, looking at the financial section to keep abreast of what was happening in the local markets, followed a peek at the last half of the main section of the paper; he was interested in the small stories that filled the space of the paper, where scientific advancements, trivial items, and local crime stories were hidden. He made notes of the advancements, some to be investigated by a Prentiss Products intern later, as well as he crimes to be investigated by him later.

Yosef ran into the room, and plopped down. He poured the milk into his cereal and half ate, half talked, all at maximum speed. Lukas smiled as he caught up on all the gossip of Westchester Middle School, grunting and "Wow!"ing at all the appropriate points. He finished his eggs just as Yosef finished his cereal, and shepherded the boy to the car, grabbing the all-important backpack on the way. Just as they hit the car, he looked down at the kid.

"Do we have everything?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sure?"

Yosef smiled sheepishly as he handed the backpack to his father and ran off. A few moments later the boy returned with his dinosaur diorama, out of breath but grinning as he noticed his father making a show of looking at his watch. "Fast enough?"

"Yes." He put the hand down and opened the car door for his son. His son entered and buckled up as he did the same. In moments they were speeding off, just so he could drop his son off a block away from school and not be an embarrassment to the kid. Smiling, Lucas was then off to work at his actual office. 

Publicized Identities - Day 2

Don Pellegrino walked out of the room even as the person inside it kept screaming. Although The Shrike would die after a few more days of torture, he had released a single nugget that would make the don's life a little easier. He just had to figure out how to use that to his advantage.

He was the indisputed ruler of Tandem's organized crime because he had a knack for figuring out how to use any advantage, however small, as a lever to open up opportunities few even imagined exited. Well, he was the strongest of the warlords at any rate; there were other gangs and organizations, of course, but he was the one that the others paid homage to. He had once debated bringing all of them together under one umbrella, his, but there were some serious logistical problems that would have to be overcome and they just weren't worth it. If anything, the war that would have resulted would have led to the underworld in chaos, and that's never good for business.

As such he had decided on another stratagem, and it was actually working. He had built a web of alliances, pitting one boss against another as he defined what that boss could and could not do, as well as establishing a certain code of honor. His web required a certain finesse in order to ensure that the proper balance was maintained, and as long as that balance was maintained organized crime could do pretty much as they liked. A few criminals would go to jail, of course, and others would be killed off as internecine conflicts reached a conclusion, but overall the criminal population would only get stronger.

He just had to deal with those heroes who operated at the street level. The others virtually ignored crime unless it crossed their paths, and only then to take care of the immediate problem before them, not the problem as a whole. This meant gambling, prostitution, and other relatively low-level crimes were allowed to continue as no hero could devote more energy than it took to deal with the super-villains, especially those whose fought over turf more ideological in nature than physical. And the various world-beaters provided a great screen for those who remained in the shadows, allowing regular criminals to do as they would.

Don Pellegrino know his limits, such as they were, and stayed well within them. His rise had been one that was based on that self-knowledge, and so he had continued to rise even as those around him were cleared away by heroes looking to establish themselves, both those in the ranks of super-heroes as well as those heroes with a badge. A number knew he was the true power behind organized crime, but left him alone as long as there were other fruits that were lower and less likely to get them killed.

But now The Shrike had given him a nugget of knowledge, a rare opportunity to eliminate the super-heroes. He just had to determine the best way to use that knowledge, and he would be the indisputed king of all he surveyed, and possibly more.

He had the means to start the countdown on the super-heroes in Tandem. It was just a matter of figuring out how to get that clock started.

*     *     *     *     *

Wolf parked his car and jumped out of the driver's seat. The patrol had actually gone rather well, with a dozen more criminals off the street. He had encountered none of the usual rogues, but then most of them were behind bars or otherwise in custody, and the rest were laying low. As he took the few steps to his computer to log the night's activities, he reflected on the random encounter with Mentallus. A rare opportunity that, and always providing food for thought.

Sipping the Earl Grey that had been left next to his monitor he was always amazed at how it was always piping hot when he arrived in the morning. He was never sure exactly where the line between butler and father was, but Bennington had performed both services well. While he was always threatening to retire to a small home in Wales, Wolf knew it was an empty threat.

Bennington had his own social life, of course, and his position as butler of the most available bachelor in Tandem had its own advantages in his social circles. Wolf smiled at the thought of Bennington surrounded by Red Hats, each virtually pawing at him as they attempted to outdo each other giving him tea and biscuits. He would feign disgust, but inwardly he loved someone else fawning over him. Wolf smiled at the daydream as he shut down the desktop for the evening.

He went up the elevator to his room and ran the shower. As he wiped off the grime from the night's work, he thought about Mentallus' words. He was right as usual: The Hero Guild needed to branch out and start covering the world. They had the abilities to do so, and it was becoming harder to turn away applicants as they were more skilled and more powerful every year. It would be a simple matter to swing more finding towards such an organization, and he needed to look into it, but as Lucas Prentiss entrepreneur, not as Wolf vigilante.

One more side trip and he would be able to turn in. He actually had to look into Yosef's room to make sure he was there as he had a bad habit of escaping. The progeny of a dalliance twelve years past, he had grown fond of the kid. The son of one of the most lethal assassins in the world, he had taken to Wolf's regimen like a duck to water and thrived on the mental and physical exercise. He even took a perverse thrill in having to go to school, as it allowed him a secret he could keep from his schoolmates. He had actually gone on a couple of sleep-overs, leaving behind Wolf worried about who he would kill, but he had done well and had some fun.

Pausing just long enough to make that Yosef really was in the bed, he headed to his own bed. He had some thinking to do tomorrow and he needed all the rest he could grab.

*     *     *     *     *

Adrasteia Petros woke with the morning sun. As the light slowly crawled up her bed, she rose gently and headed for the shower. The heat and steam was part of her waking process as much as coffee was part of the commuters heading to work below her penthouse apartment. She had a long day of ambassadorial responsibilities to look forward to, and figured she may as well get a start.

As Virago, the chosen warrior woman of the gods, who wielded sword and spear, who had mastered a dozen forms of combat, and who was the line that should not be crossed betwist man and monster. Many tried to cross that line, and many had been defeated, usually leaving a corpse behind as a sign of that attempted passage. Her body was covered in scars if was brave, or foolish, enough to look closely at her, proof of her victories and losses, and there had been many. Her body may be lithe, but there was no question that she could hold her own against whatever the world, or worlds, cold throw at her.

Being champion of her country was never easy, and she much preferred fighting super-villains to dealing with foreign dignitaries; not only could she simply brawl her way through them, but not having to kowtow to their ridiculous demands was actually seen as a good thing. There were times when she daydreamed about pummeling European diplomats who were bickering over a mere dozens of square feet of territory; those daydreams had saved many a life.

Fortunately she had a skilled personal staff that took care of most of the day-to-day work, enabling her to worry about personal appearances as well the rare time when she had to intercede. She even had those that manned a hotline for Guild emergencies; even though they ended up re-routing the vast number of emergencies to local services, there were a few items that ended up on her personal plate, and sometimes even that of the Guild. She sometimes hoped for those personal items, especially as they gave her an excuse to run from truly boring meetings before she joined the villains roster herself for killing a roomful of diplomats just to enliven things.

She finished dressing and headed out the door. She knew that she wasn't facing a monster, a demon, or even a low-level powered villain; she was headed straight into a day of meetings with various diplomats looking for whatever advantage they could find for their respective countries. Although she could not fault them, for they fought to the best of their ability just as an warrior would and some of them could be wield words with the skill that the finest gladiator wielded a sword, she sighed wistfully as she glanced her sword as she passed it, and felt just a little despondent as she would have to leave it behind. That measure alone probably saved many lives each day

She was soon in the armored car and riding off to work, where she saved lives by talking them out rather than taking lives. It was definitely a challenge, and she smiled as she realized that she was no weaker for choosing the harder option.

*     *     *     *     *

Thomas Blum was smiling. There was not a cloud in the sky, the sun was just hot enough to make the day right for running around shirtless but not enough to tire anyone out, and you could see forever. His adopted father would say that this was the perfect day to plant something, but you'd probably end up in the creek at some point with a twelve-pack of whatever beer was on sale and either a couple friends or your girlfriend.

Flare-Up had not received the memo that the day was supposed to be one of relaxation, however. The kid had decided to rob a bank using his solar powers, and had was doing it the hard way: Straight through the bank itself. So far he was successful at it, and was just a few feet from hitting the outside of the vault. The Guild Hotline had received the call that something was happening, and a text had been sent to Thomas, and he had responded by showing up as Magnus.

He had quickly analyzed the boy's abilities, and determined a simple enough strategy to deal with his flight, energy projection, and damage field. The damage field was the problem child of his powers, as he was a slow and inefficient flyer, probably due to his lack of training with his powers, and his solar beams (concentrated photons with a ultra-violet chaser?) were easy enough to dodge. However, he could melt steel just be being around it, and that could be a problem.

Except that he was Magnus, of course. He lined up a flight path that would take within feet of the boy, and then poured his speed into a quick dash. He didn't have to go at an incredibly fast speed, just enough to generate a wind behind him. He passed the boy, and then the wind created by the vacuum following right behind him. It snuffed out the field of energized plasma surround the teenager, allowing him to quickly circle back and deliver a love tap on the boy's chin, knocking him out. His damage field attempted to reignite but fizzled quickly as he slumped and began falling. Magnus caught the kid and slowed his fall.

Within moments Flare-Up was in Guild headquarters, to be held until the proper authorities decided to get around to picking him up. Thomas was already heading back to work, as his fifteen-minute break was almost up, and was actually miffed at the boy more for interrupting work than he was for spoiling an otherwise perfect day. He had been just a hundred words away from finishing the feature article on window washers (yeah, a fluff piece, but it was nice to give those brave people their due every so often). Flare-Up had cost him precious time, and his deadline was mere minutes away.

This was definitely one of those times he hated the delicate technology of his adopted planet. He steeled himself for the rush and laid into the article. 

Publicized Identities-Day 1

Jon Sharp looked down on the tableau below. From twenty stories above he was forced to engage his telescopic goggles, but the fight below was worth it. The Pantheon was facing off against The Syndicate, and the criminals of the latter were going down, even if they were not making it easy. Each a specialized power suit, geared towards the strengths of the particular criminal, and they had learned to use their suits to effect.

Gorilla used the enhanced strength of his suit to slam is opponents, stunning them just long enough for his allies to hit the heroes. The Artful Dodger, a pickpocket par excellence, used his stealth suit to toss grenades at his targets and then disappear back into the shadows. Spider, an second-story man, used the clinging ability of his suit to stay just out of reach as he slung venom blasts into the fray. The decidedly feminine Pegasus, the safe-cracker, strafed the battle with her lasers, racing in and racing out again and again.

However, the tide turned as soon as The Pantheon appeared to have taken the measure of its opponents and found them wanting. Not too surprisingly Ares was the first to get tired of playing defense and went on the offensive, and demonstrated his mastery of wrestling to Gorilla; he stunned the brawny bruiser and then proceeded to stripping him of his armor. Athena, mistress of shield and spear, threw her spear at Pegasus, forcing her to dodge and fly right into the path of her shield as it bounced off a wall. Pegasus quickly went from stunned to unconscious as Athena used her shield as a club.

Hermes faced off against the Dodger, and even graciously returned the proffered grenades in a blur that resulted in the thief eventually staying down. Spider quickly figured out what was going down, and attempted to flee; he almost reached a third-story window before a hammer smote him. As Spider fell the hand returned to the hand of Hephaestus, who put the hammer on its appropriate hook on his wide belt. The Pantheon tied The Syndicate up, Athena called the Tandem Police Department to ensure that the villains would soon be picked up, and then the heroes were swallowed by the night.

*     *     *     *     *

Sharp turned away as their whoops and hollers faded into the cacophony of city noises. He smiled as he felt the presence of Wolf, the self-appointed guardian of the streets, even before the man appeared on the rooftop next to him. He took of his goggles and reached into his trenchcoat pockets, tossing a small item at Wolf as he flipped onto the roof.

"Really, Mentallus? A doggie treat? I really should take you down some day."

Sharp smiled at the mention of his old nom de guerre. "Yet we both know why you won't, don't we?"

"Yeah. You're the referee of the streets, the man that keeps us all on the straight and narrow."

"Yep. Sounds about right. Although I am tempted to turn my files over to you, Wolf. Then I could finally retire."

"All of your files? That would make for some fun bedtime stories for my brood." "Well, all but one obviously: Yours."

"Fair enough." Wolf threw the treat off the side of the building. "So how did the kids do? Did they pass your assessment?"

"They did that a long time ago. They may be a little rough by your esteemed standards, but they are nonetheless a good group of kids." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. "I do like to watch you heroes in action every so often. They have a certain style to their strategy that is actually fun to watch. Sort of like your group in action when you were younger."

Wolf smiled. Although he hated that the green-skinned mutant smoked, they both knew that Death would find them when it found them, and he could appreciate facing Death on one's own terms. "I may have to see about letting them use our training facilities sometime then. It would be nice to have a local team in place."

Sharp nodded. "Yeah, that would be a good idea. Especially considering it would free you guys up to do some bigger goods. Possibly even allow you to become more pro-active."

Wolf had long wanted the Guild to become more pro-active so that they could start taking down some of the true villains on the planet, and not just whoever was stupid enough to pop his head up every so often. "Should make for a spirited debate."

"Verily, especially considering the arguments both Magnus and Virago have put forth." They both smiled as they recounted the very public debates had regarding the future of the planet's super-heroes. Magnus wanted to see them limited to local struggles but subject to the United Nations' World Court in order to avoid corruption, while Virago wanted to wipe out Evil from the face of the planet. "At the very least it would mean allowing you to do something permanent to your own rogues gallery."

"True. But that's a debate for another day. I would advise you to find a heir soon, however; no one knows when his number will come up, and I have no doubt that this city would be in for a world of hurt if something happens to you before you find someone to guard your files." "Sage advice. And I will take it under advisement." Sharp turned away, knowing what would happen in a moment, and wishing to give his old...friend (?) the option to take his leave without being seen, something he seemed to enjoy doing.

"See that you do." Wolf took advantage of the moment and a line arced towards a gargoyle just barely within view. He was soon swinging away from the rooftop, cape billowing behind him as the night air filled out. Sharp smiled as he thought about the poor criminal whose last sight before he was sent to prison would be that man flying down on him.

His visage returned to its recent solemnity as he again looked down at where the most recent fight for Justice had just occurred. He was already looking at candidates; Wolf was right, but was himself disqualified. Of all the heroes, Wolf had the most need of the balance he provided: If Wolf ever went to the other side, Evil would win and probably within a few weeks. If he had access to the secrets of the other heroes, then that victory would be a lot easier. Wolf of course had most likely reached the same conclusion and that is why he merely mentioned the necessity of an heir rather than offering his services. Those under him were likewise disqualified, as any of them with access would also mean he would have access as well.

He was actually contemplating Phantasma as a possible heir of sorts. She had the wisdom required to know when to use the files as well as the savvy to keep them away from those interested in acquiring them. He had hoped that his observation of her tonight would help him make that decision. Of course, there was the question of who to give her file to that had to be answered before he could really approach her, but he thought he had a solution for that as well.

He opened the roof access and started heading down the stairs. His car waited for him on the street, and hopefully it was still in condition to drive. He smiled as he thought of the electrified outer shell of the car, realizing that no one would remain conscious after contact with it. A harsh punishment, but hopefully one that would deter another car thief or vandal. But that added insurance was part of holding the secrets that he held, an insurance that may keep him alive until he was able to find someone who was capable of taking the burden from his tired shoulders.