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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment