Part Four

"I didn't realize you didn't have one of these stealth suits until you said you'd meet me on the way," said Energia, as she caught up with Template.

The older super was flying slowly, waiting for her niece.

"Yeah," said Template, with a shrug, as the duo picked up speed. The older woman's cape began snapping in the slipstream. "I just zip out from under the back porch at super speed as Randy, get well away from home then change while flying."

"That's a lot neater than what I have to go through," muttered Energia. She had needed to put her costume on in the bathroom, then put her stealth outfit on over that before sneaking out of the house. She would have to wait until they were in the Intrepids' base before taking the jumpsuit off. "Anyway, we're clear and on our way."

* * *

"Yes!" cheered Solange, as the news of who was coming for the conference spread through the base. "Company! Mostly virtual, but some of it real people!"

"Has it really been that slow, lately?" said Jet Jaguar, tongue in cheek. The team had, in fact, been very busy. As had most teams in the region, along with much of the solo mask community.

"She's just happy to see Energia and Template again," said Rapscallion, smirking.

"Of course I am! Energia is a lot closer to my age than any of you," grinning, she swept her pointing finger around in an arc to take in the rest of the team, already assembled in the main conference room, "and Template and I share something none of you can understand."

"Ah, youth," said Rapscallion, hamming it up. "So easily made happy by trivial joys."

"Do you want me to short-sheet you again?"

"That doesn't sound like much of a prank," said Jet Jaguar, quietly to Bowman, as the duo continued their good-natured bickering.

"He was still in the bed at the time," said the Black Mask, startling him.

"Yeah," said Bowman, who was used to the Black Masks's sneakiness. Or at least had learned not to react. "Took three of us to get him out of it."

* * *

"Please let me know if I ever get jaded with flying," said Energia, with a contented sigh, as she and Template descended gracefully to towards the large boulder in the garden on top of Intrepids Mountain. They had already called in for clearance to land.

"Ditto," said Template, as the hidden door in the rock face opened for them. "Or maybe shoot me. Just to get my attention, mind you."

Soon, Energia and Template were in the main conference room of the huge, new base. Ironically, due to building it from scratch it actually had less developed space than the old, destroyed one, but all of that in the new one was easily accessible. After quick greetings, the flying duo joined with the members of the team in the main meeting room. The new facility was now fully operational, though use was still revealing a few areas where changes were needed. Energia continued to think that it felt too clean, almost sterile. That it lacked the character of the old base.

"Hey," said Template, grinning, when she heard Energia mutter something about that, "it still has that new base smell."

Energia did like the team's holographic video conference setup, though. It was a full generation newer and the images were therefore much clearer and more solid-appearing than those produced by the setup at Blue Impact's lair. Here they also did not need to have the ambient lighting dimmed and the sound muted. Most of the rig was built into the ceiling of the room and the images were projected in miniature on the top of the table. Controls at each seat allowed a separate image to be displayed in front of that position, plus many other options. Energia leaned in close to Template and spoke in a low voice.

"I think I'm experiencing a touch of equipment envy," she said. She suddenly straightened and sobered as the leader of the Intrepids stood.

The holographic conference equipment in the room was activated. In rapid sequence, several images of individuals and small groups appeared on the table. The Black Mask coordinated, naming those who were participating and announcing the purpose of the conference. Energia was surprised at how many she recognized. As well as how many seemed to recognize her. Once more, it hit home with her that she was no longer a novice mask, a youth in her early teens, being closely supervised by those more experienced. She was definitely playing with the big kids, these days.

"People are now certain the ship was stolen," said the Black Mask, summing up at the end of his preliminary statement.

"Hijacked," said Blue Impact, over a conference channel from the Pine Island Academy. She had planned to spend the holidays on that subtropical paradise - likely in the company of a local male - but events seemed to be conspiring against her intentions. "Yes. Everything seemed fine until there was a sudden Mayday from the Storm Defiant as it was heading for a North Sea storm. They got off several calls about 'pirates,' including a report that the ship was being boarded. Then the voice communication went dead.

"After a few anxious minutes, the Captain came back on and reported that the previous alert had been a false alarm, and that they were hard at work skirting a storm and he couldn't talk any more just then. Shortly after that, the telemetry showed the ship turning to head directly into the storm. Then that quit, too. Multiple checks have found no sign of the ship. Constantine, himself, flew out to search for it or the crew in lifeboats. Neither he nor anyone else has found any sign of the Storm Defiant, on the surface or below. The hypothesis is that the hijackers shut down the electronics then changed course a second time, while the ship was concealed by the storm. They probably intended to do all this before they got too deep into the storm, but satellite photos and local weather reports show the storm moved in more quickly than expected and was also larger.

"The hijackers may have proceeded according to plan, and avoided the worst of the storm. Or the ship may have sunk in the storm. That last seems unlikely, since it was a sound craft with a crew experienced with North Sea storms, and no debris has been found."

"Has there been any sign of the ship?" said Dr. Gorgeous, from the Assembly's conference room.

"None. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. Actually, there's no guarantee either of those scenarios is the right one, of course. Some people are even speculating that the ship was teleported or dimensionally shifted. However, moving something that big either of those ways couldn't be concealed."

"As far as we know," said Bowman, pointedly. "Super geniuses are always coming up with ways around the known limits."

Well, it took one to know one...

Champion, like Dr. Gorgeous participating through the slightly older secure communications equipment at the Assembly base, shook her head. She then mentioned something which had obviously been on her mind for a while.

"It's astounding that all those treasures - including the packaging - could fit into one shipping container."

"One very heavy shipping container," said the Black Mask. "The total volume of the items is surprisingly small - they fit in one of the small vaults at Fort Knox with room left over. There's also more room in those shipping containers than people unfamiliar with them realize. Keep in mind, though, that there was a lot of gold, silver and other precious metals involved, as well as gems."

"Oh. Right. Wow; I hope it didn't sink."

"It's not just an ordinary shipping container, either," said the Black Mask. "It is designed to look like one from the outside, but it is armored and equipped with sophisticated security measures. Which makes me wonder why it hasn't called for help on its own. Though, yes, it would definitely sink without external support. The overall density was high."

"Anyway, right now Constantine is asking the civil authorities and super volunteers look for the crew, special cargo container and ship as a whole, in that order of priority," said Blue Impact. She sighed. "He hasn't said how long he'll wait before doing... something else."

Why the Pine Island Academy was relaying this information instead of - for example - one of the European super teams who were looking for the ship was not explained. That Constantine had some connection with the island school had long been known, even if the nature of that connection wasn't.

"So, I guess pretty much everyone in the costumed adventurer business is at least thinking about where those things could be," said Energia, quietly.

"You better believe it," said Champion.

* * *

Once the meeting ended, Template had a quiet talk with the other members of the Intrepids, while Solange guided Energia to one of the smaller meeting rooms off the big one. The older super had maintained her composure during the conference, but now she seemed on the verge of exploding.

"Okay, what's got you so excited?" said Energia, once the door closed. She was trying to sound blasé but found her friend's attitude so contagious she was actually grinning.

"I'm engaged!" said Solange, almost squealing.

Energia stared at her in shock for a fraction of a second. Then recovered, masked the distress Solange's announcement cause her, and hugged her friend fiercely.

"Okay," said Energia, once they finally broke. "I guess that's why you've gone back to wearing the more risqué version of your costume, lately. Who is it?"

"You know The FX," said Solange, coyly.

"Yes..." said Energia, unable to match any of the members of that team - male or female - with Solange. Part of the reason for this mental paralysis being the surge of envy this announcement brought.

"Well, we've been working with them a lot the past few months."

"Who is it?" Energia demanded.

"Popcorn Dash."

"Yeah," said Energia, after a moment, nodding. "I can see that, actually. Well, congratulations to both of you!"

"Just... don't tell anyone yet, okay? We're trying to keep this low key and only letting a few people know at a time."

"Sure. And, again, congratulations!"

* * *

Once the discussions and a good deal of visiting were over, Template and Energia reversed their path back to the home of Randy and Karen. Energia was unusually quiet for the trip. However, Template was as well, though for a different reason.

After Karen was briefed, Jenny resumed her visit with her extended family. She kept quiet about the private news from Solange, as requested, but she was obviously distracted. Of course, so were Randy and Karen. In spite of these recent events, Jenny stayed the planned amount of time and promised to come back Christmas Day to see what presents everyone had gotten. Then, with her stealth jumpsuit back on over her civilian clothes, she flew home.

* * *

"Wow," said Jenny, watching the news with her parents, Juliette and Maximilian Toulon, that evening. "Things are really heating up over that missing ship."

The mundane news services had somehow picked up on the fact that the shipment to Moldaria had vanished, along with vessel and crew. Jenny didn't tell her parents that she'd had advanced information that the missing Storm Defiant was now strongly suspected to have been hijacked for its cargo.

"You don't think there'll be a war, do you?" said Max, worried, as the watched the evening news.

"Well, pretty much every team and singleton hero on the east coast is on the lookout for the ship. Blue Impact says that she wants to get Tricorne together the first week in the new year in part to help look for the ship. Depending on how things develop, we may get together sooner than that. So, consider yourselves warned."

Blue Impact had, indeed, called shortly after the news broke publicly. So Jenny was telling the truth.

"You mean you may miss Christmas?!" said Julie, scandalized.

"Not likely, but possible," said Jenny, reluctantly. She gave an exaggerated shrug. "That's the hero biz, for you."

"Well, we knew the job could involve inconvenient timing when she took it," said her father, smiling.

* * *

That same evening, the daily debriefing for The FX was mostly business as usual. Mostly.

"Last item on the local agenda: The police finally captured Glide Girl," said Coordinator, aka "Ma." "Turns out she's the daughter of a local politician. She willingly identified herself once she was caught, and she says her father knew she was a super but never told anyone. He just stopped having anything to do with her. So far, he hasn't commented."

"Wait," said Posey, startled. "Is her dad Mr. 'Rat on your family and friends if you think they're supers.' from the state senate?"

"If you're talking about Paul J. Pawle, good guess."

"Hypocrite, heal thyself," said Sircada, smirking.

"Anyway," said Ma, "that about wraps up local events, unless one of you has something?"

None did.

"Okay, now for the elephant in the room. Everyone is looking for the Moldarian treasure. Some more energetically than others. We are not officially on the hunt, but I want to ask if any of you have found any clues in this matter."

There was some uneasy shifting and a few muttered negatives.

"Not our business," said Isarda, firmly.

"Well, the question is, do we make it our business and more actively look for clues?"

Popcorn Dash and Posey were both enthusiastically in favor, though their motivations seemed rather different. Isarda was definitely against "wasting our time." Most of the other members were less than eager to participate in the hunt. Coordinator, staying neutral, noted that one member of the team was noncommittal.

"Stranger? What's your take on this affair?"

"It began where it will end," the Theoretical Stranger said, calmly.

"That doesn't help," said Tone, sourly.

"It wasn't meant to. It is merely the reality of the situation."

"We're looking for something useful, here," said Salamander, voice dripping with scorn.

"I was not asked to provide anything useful," said the Theoretical Stranger, still - as usual - calmly.

"That's enough," said Ma - Coordinator - when Salamander looked like he was going to respond with a retort. "I phrased my question that way deliberately. Now, anyone else have any suggestions in regard to this matter?"

"We need to keep working this," said Tone, perhaps a bit reluctantly. "However, there are a lot of other things which we should give priority."

"Which is my take on this," said Ma, nodding. "Okay, let's break for now."

* * *

The case of the missing ship actually developed far more rapidly than Jenny had hinted it might to her parents. In fact, two days later Blue Impact called her and Gadgetive to come to the old bakery. She wanted Tricorne to help with investigating the theft.

Unfortunately, a complication quickly developed which required Energia to make her own call for help.

* * *

Vic was playing video games with Michelle and her siblings when her phone gave one of its special rings. She quickly excused herself, abandoned her character to its doom and went into the hallway outside the den to answer.

"I hate to bother you during the holidays, but..."

"Listen," said Vic, quietly but intensely, "right now I'd love a valid reason to get out of here."

"In-laws are that bad?"

"They're wonderful people," said Vic, "but they won't quit trying to keep me entertained!"

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

The martial artist turned a bit further away from the door and bent even closer to her cell phone.

"Michelle's father took karate in high school, and he keeps trying to 'teach' me things."

"Ow. Well, you remember that drunk driver I stopped?"

"Yeah?"

"He is fighting the charge. Only he's acting against me, even though the police have him on traffic cam and their dash and body cams and they're the ones who arrested him and the city is the entity pressing the charges. He managed to delay the alcohol test long enough - by demanding a blood test, rather than a breathalyzer - that by the time they got it he was just under the limit. Now he's decided to punish me for disabling his car. Since Ramsey is still being run by the feds, he got a federal judge to issue a ruling that I can't act in costume outside the corporate limits of Ramsey unless I'm in the company of a federal law enforcement officer. Meanwhile, Tricorne needs me for the Moldaria treasures case."

That was quite the info dump, thought Vic, with a smirk. She must be pretty upset.

"Didn't you have your evidence recorder running?" said Vic, referring to a device many costumed heroes carried to provide several forms of information on their activities.

"Yeah, I turned it on as soon as I got the notice about the drunk driver, but the police have it and it won't do me any good against this injunction until there's an actual hearing. Maybe not even until a trial. So, I need your help."

"Where are you?" said Vic eagerly.

"Blue Impact's lair. I had already flown here before the judge issued the court order."

Vic made her apologies to Michelle and the family and headed out within the hour.

* * *

"When's Vic coming in?" said Gadgetive, once Energia gave her the news.

"Twelve PM."

The energy/force manipulator had been enjoying catching up on some of her pleasure reading, sitting under the lamp on one end of the couch in the big lounge, legs folded under her. She wanted to get back to her book, but Gadgetive wasn't finished.

"Hold on... PM means post meridiem, or after Noon. However, unless you're on a twenty-four hour clock - which I know you aren't - twelve is either Noon or Midnight. Which do you mean?"

"Uh, twelve AM?" said Energia, puzzled. "Wait; isn't that before Noon? Now you've got me confused. Uhm, in time for lunch?"

"Finally!" said Gadgetive, rolling her eyes and giving an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose that's why teach is in the kitchen, putting together a big meal."

"Yeah; I already told her," said Energia. Giving up on reading, she closed her book on a marker, put it down on the end table and rose vertically from the couch so she could unfold her legs and walk to the kitchen. "I guess we should go help."

Fortunately, the east coast city where the old bakery was located was only a couple of hours away by road from Michelle's home town, and that was driving at the speed limit. Which Vic did. Mostly.

As before, the martial artist entered the old bakery through the roll-up door which gave access to the internal loading dock. Energia, who was waiting for Vic to park in the big room, gave her a warm but brief welcome. Vic noted that the other woman seemed to be in a hurry; Energia grabbed some of her luggage and headed for the elevator instead of taking it easy and gossiping some first. Or even on the way. For a change, Energia was actually more eager than the federal agent to eat, partly due to Vic being well feted while visiting Michelle's family. She quickly got Vic settled into her guest room, then down to the kitchen. The martial artist was suitably impressed with the lunch spread out on the lair's kitchen table. The others also welcomed her and she was escorted to her seat. By that time, as promised, it was just past Noon.

"Wow. Is this all for me?"

"Nah," said Gadgetive, grinning. "We're just hungry."

"Not all of it, but you're the reason teach went all out," said Energia. She grinned. "I think she likes having someone around who eats as much as she does, so we don't make fun of her appetite."

"Not funny," said Blue Impact, already digging in.

Vic looked around, seeming to search for something. Something on the floor.

"Say, where's the cat? He usually comes out to see what's going on."

"I left Beefeater on the island, this time," said Blue Impact. "Don't worry; he's in good hands."

"I knew that name was going to stick," muttered Gadgetive, sourly.

As usual, they didn't talk shop during the meal, but instead caught each other up on recent events in their lives. The others noted that while Gadgetive still wasn't exactly warm to Vic she did seem a bit more accepting.

"So," said Vic, once the dishes were in the washer, "where do we start?"

"Right now we're still looking for clues," said Blue Impact. "All of you, poll your contacts and see if they have anything to offer in this matter."

"Yeah, Energia and I don't really have any contacts," said Gadgetive.

"Speak for yourself, Miss Asocial," said Energia, smugly. "Some of mine duplicate some of Vic's, so I'll leave those to her, but I do have people to contact. Mostly in the Intrepids."

* * *

After lunch they got busy. The three youngest members retreated to private locations in the lair and made calls. However, Blue Impact - the only long-term resident of the city among the four - actually went out on her motorcycle. They all were finished in plenty of time for their evening meal.

During dinner preparation Blue Impact told the other three that she had gathered some solid clues - which was more than the rest of them had managed - but needed to do more work before she could know how likely they were to help. Once the meal was underway they again did not talk shop. Instead, Blue Impact - who seemed in a surprisingly good mood for someone who wasn't certain her discoveries would prove useful - mentioned something Vic had thought of before but never mentioned.

"It's no surprise you and I have such big appetites, since besides being very physically active, we both have regeneration," said Blue Impact. "It's unusual for two people in such a small group to have that."

"It's also unusual for two members of such a small super group to wear armor," said Vic, with a nod to Gadgetive. Who just kept eating.

"It's unusual for such a small group to have someone as powerful as me," said Energia, smirking. Gadgetive stuck her tongue out at her friend, while the other two just rolled their eyes.

That killed the topic, but not the discussion. Which ranged far and wide. Even Gadgetive had something to contribute.

"That tired, old myth of the Satanic Panic is back," she said, sourly, as they neared the end of the meal. "There's already several people charging police organizations for lessons in how to recognize 'satanic activity.' The scammers have even revived the idea that witches use baby fat to change shape."

"Not a good topic for a meal, Gadge," said Energia, with a grimace.

"Yeah," said Vic, nodding slowly. "About the scam, I mean. Well, both, but..."

She shook her head, focusing.

"Okay, the FBI has already sent out several bulletins to police departments all over the US about how some people - folks with no real qualifications - are offering expensive special clinics on how to identify satanists and which crimes are their work. Believing the scammers leads to many crimes being mishandled and innocent people being connected with them. I hear some police departments are even going back to illegal interrogation methods to force false confessions. Not just in this matter, either, though so far that seems to be where most of the offenses are occurring. Far too many folks seem to believe that it's okay to harass and deceive 'satanists' and 'witches' to get confessions, because they're 'evil.' Never mind the fact that no-one has any evidence that the people being tricked or forced are actually satanists or witches or even connected to the crime."

"How do people keep falling for these things?!" said Energia, startled.

"It runs on about a thirty year cycle, though some areas in the US lag or lead others," said Blue Impact, sounding tired. "That's long enough that some people have moved to other jobs, most of those still around have forgotten that the last cycle ended with the scam being debunked and the worst offenders prosecuted, and those who haven't forgotten are all card-carrying members of the conspiracy theory that the clinics were ended because the satanists bribed the politicians and the press to ignore their crimes."

"That's like the pogroms against supers," said Gadgetive, quietly. "They never learn."

"Oh, they learn," said Energia, tiredly. "Then, like teach said, they collectively forget."

"What's that saying about the gods themselves fighting in vain against human stupidity?" said Blue Impact, frowning as she tried to remember the origin of the quote.

None of the others had heard of the saying, and they decided it wasn't worth looking up. Not when there were dirty dishes to do.