Part Two

When Vic arrived in her boss' office a few days later, responding to a summons, she was surprised to find Lady Green already there. Vic had assumed this meeting would be in regard to the recent discovery of the Operators' lair, but that turned out not to be the case.

"You two have been asked to help with the arrest of the members of Lightning Wire and their crew," said Drake, once greetings were out of the way. "This is part of the security operation for a visit to Detroit by the Vice President. Actually, the request is from the city, for you, Vic, to help Lady Green and city and state police. Since there are reportedly several supers involved with the band our superiors have approved this usage of you."

"I know them!" said Vic, scandalized. "I mean, the band. I've even been to a couple of their concerts! Yeah, the band members, at least, are supers. The drummer goes by Perun (after the Slavic god of thunder) and is the most powerful, though not the most aggressive. That is the bassist, Skip Calendar, who is very dangerous. Potentially. Supposedly, he has time manipulation, though that works best when he's clear... which, according to rumor, is less and less these days. The lead singer uses the stage name Spock Zarathustra, and has mental powers. The backup singer and guitarist is DJTurpentime, a sort of general 'I'm better than normals' super. Detroit is just a one-night stand for a tour they're on."

"Well, I'm not familiar with them," said Lady Green, who was older than Vic appeared to be, but slightly younger than she actually was, "so I'm glad for this information."

"I recall you talking about seeing them," said Drake, to Vic. "Being a fan, maybe you can talk them down, which would definitely be a good thing. Even Lady Green has ceded the point."

"Oh, yes..." the hired gun super said, with a grimace. "With four of them to us two, even with state and city police backing us up, I don't like the odds if we have to fight."

"The lead singer could be our best bet to get them to surrender peacefully," said Vic, thoughtfully. "Reports have him being the calm, rational type, despite his performance style. As fits his pseudonym."

"Okay," said Drake, noncommittally. "Right now the plan is to intercept their bus on the way out of town, in an isolated area."

"Their concert is tonight," said Vic, thinking things through. "They'll be on the bus, probably asleep, since they will be partying until late after their concert. Their bus is supposed to leave in the morning. Why are we arresting them, though? I know they have a reputation for heavy drug use..."

"This request is from the Secret Service, via the city government. The Vice President is giving a talk at some political event this afternoon and they're worried the band will stir up their followers to take action against the Veep."

"Well, they do have several songs critical of the current administration in their catalog," said Vic, nodding. She smirked. "Don't most active bands, though? Also, the timing doesn't work, with us making the arrest several hours after the Veep's speech. Though I guess the police are trying to avoid a riot by arresting them tomorrow morning rather than this afternoon, before the concert."

"Exactly," said Lady Green, nodding. "Officially, we will be looking for illegal narcotics. With a warrant, which we already have on the way. Unofficially, we're protecting the line of succession of power. Even if the threat - tenuous as it is - is over by then."

"Politics," said Drake, sighing the word, almost making it a plea. "The Veep will be in town for another couple of days, but in private meetings. So in the eyes of the politicians it's a good idea to arrest these 'known dissidents' even as they're leaving town."

"I don't like this," said Vic, expression sour.

"Do you think I do?" said Lady Green.

"Ditto," said Drake.

* * *

The huge bus was far from the only vehicle on southbound I-75 the next morning. However, the city cops were skilled at their jobs. With help from the Michigan State Police, they had the bus isolated and pulled over on a wide spot in the shoulder of the Interstate less than a minute after the operation began. The manager of the band came out to see what was happening, and was served the warrant to search the bus by the senior city police officer present. Vic and Lady Green - both of whom had arrived in one of the half dozen city police cars - moved in front of the large vehicle and stood there, Lady Green in her Trademark costume in shades of green, Vic in her armor. Lady Green looked determined. Vic's helmet concealed her expression, but her posture made clear the same message: The bus was not to move. State Police officers had three neutralizers at the ready, but with two LEO supers on their side they were not planning to use the devices.

The manager went back into the bus to deliver the news. The driver was subsequently the first out, followed by those members of the crew on board. The actual band members were escorted out last, by their manager. Most of those from the bus were surly, especially the actual members of the band. They appeared to be short on sleep, likely being awakened by the interruption of their journey. However, it wasn't until city police began to enter the bus that anyone objected.

"Hey!" shouted the bassist, Skip Calendar. "They can't go in there! That's private property! All my stuff's in there!"

"I showed you the warrant," said the manager.

"I don't care what you showed me," said the bassist, moving to intercept the lead officer. "They can't go in there!"

Vic also started forward, but Lady Green had superhuman speed and got there first. She parked herself in front of Skip, looking determined.

"They have a search warrant," she said, holding up a hand but not actually touching Skip. "They can look..."

He swatted her aside. To him the movement was just an annoyed sweep of his arm. To Lady Green the impact was like being hit by the side mirror on a truck moving past at highway speed.

Vic stepped quickly into his path. She held the fingers of her left hand out straight and made a brisk sweeping motion. The "nails" on the end of her gauntleted fingers (officially there to help her grab small items while wearing her armor) cut Calendar's forehead. This was not a serious injury, but as head wounds usually do, it bled profusely. Half blinded, Calendar threw a wild, barely super speed punch in response, missing cleanly.

Vic jabbed him hard on the tip of the nose. To her immense surprise, he screamed in pain and collapsed. Vic quickly stepped back, almost bumping the officer behind her.

"He's opened my brain!" Calendar screamed, hands wrapped around his head. "He's opened my brain! Somebody tie my head closed!"

"No, man," said the band's lead, kneeling down beside him. "It's the drugs talkin'. You gotta calm down."

"You all right?" said Vic, as Lady Green landed beside him after flying back to the vehicle stop.

"Wow, is he fast," said the other super, as she shook her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Though I'll probably have a nasty bruise across my chest."

The rest of the operation was rather anti-climactic. Well, except for what was found. The detectives made several arrests; in fact, they wound up taking everyone who was on the bus into custody. The huge vehicle, itself, was impounded and later towed away, by the type of heavy wrecker normally used for loaded semis. Most of those arrested would be released soon, but Skip would spend the time until arraignment in jail without bond, and under a neutralizer. Though only after being cleared for that by a doctor. They didn't want him dying from a drug overdose if his powers were what were keeping him alive despite a large dose of drugs.

"Yeah, see if we ever play in this town again!" shouted the band's leader, as their manager, the other members and their crew were taken away, in handcuffs.

Calendar was removed in an ambulance equipped with a neutralizer. Fortunately for him, it was not needed. The bassist spent the next couple of hours sobbing and being completely passive.

"So much for your hope that their leader would get them all to surrender," said Lady Green, darkly.

"Actually, that's pretty much what happened," said Vic. She turned to the detective in charge of the operation. "Though he was a little late. I just want to know if all this was worth it."

"The amounts of meth, cocaine and miscellaneous other stuff we already recovered from the band's bus was measured in kilograms, not grams," said the Detroit detective in charge of the operation. "The drug dogs got several other hits, probably from hidden compartments we'll have to open later. So, from that standpoint, yes. It was worth it."

* * *

Later, at the debriefing in Drake's office, Vic - in regular clothes - and Lady Green - still in costume - were brought up to speed on the results of the raid. Since this had been a joint operation, the Captain of the precinct in charge of the raid was also there.

"There's already protests," said the Captain, sounding irritated. "People are saying that the drugs were planted."

"Doesn't matter what people say," said Drake, confidently. "The bust was righteous. A few civilians on the Interstate and nearby even recorded it with their phones. There's already several videos of the events online."

"So, officially, we're in the clear," said Vic, still later, speaking quietly with Lady Green, as they waited for a meeting with the Police Commissioner about the bus bust. Vic couldn't help but notice that the chairs in the receptionist's well-appointed office were nicely padded and very comfortable. "Of course, if the political reason behind this gets out we'll be attacked by all sides. One side for doing all this to protect a politician. One for not cracking down sooner on the band for having drugs. One for arresting the band members 'just' for having drugs. One for..."

"I hate politics," said Lady Green.

"On that we are in agreement."

"What's really weird is that we're being officially congratulated by the city administration for stopping the 'terrorists' before the Veep got into town. Only we didn't."

"Don't tell the Secret Service or the Press that," said Vic, her tone wry. "In fact, don't even mention it to the Commissioner. Save it for when we're criticized for making a raid on political dissidents, infringing on their freedom of speech, just to protect the Veep. Then point out to whoever is making the accusation that the raid took place a day after the Veep's speech, and was to search for illegal drugs."

"Oooh, good one!" said Lady Green, giving Vic a nasty smile. "Y'know, you're not so bad. For a fed."

* * *

In spite of the complications involved with the raid on the musical group's bus, Vic got home about on time that day for a change, actually beating Michelle by a bit. By the time the hairstylist go home the LEO had even started supper. After warmly greeting each other they mostly made small talk until they settled in to watch TV after their evening meal. Vic found some time to practice on her fancy new guitar.

"When are you going to name that thing?" said Michelle.

"Haven't found a good one, yet," said Vic. She sighed, and regarded the instrument. "Truthfully, it intimidates me a bit."

"You're not buying that tale the T.O.W.E.R. Agents told us about it having some sort of South American spirit in it, are you?" said her wife, teasing.

"Oh!" said Vic, suddenly remembering something. As well as changing the topic. "The archivists finally released all the old journals the Operators left behind. The administrators of the tontine have found a publisher, and we've ordered a copy."

"So you will have a copy of this book? I mean, your office will have one."

"Not exactly, and it's actually several volumes. The Operators did a lot of their work during and after the War, and were active - really active - for over a decade. They were the first team to pay their members, so the individuals in the group didn't have to worry about working for a living and could be on the team full time. Anyway, they were very busy and their records are pretty voluminous. Our office split the cost of a complete set of the printed version with the local FBI office and Marshall's Service office. We figured that besides historical value, these might help with some old cases.

"We already have some preliminary info, though. That is, we have files of the scans of the pages made by the archivists, which are currently only available to law enforcement. Fortunately, the scans are free, to qualified people and agencies. Though they're uncorrected OCR, so we'll have to be careful."

She sighed, put her still-unnamed fancy guitar down, took a large bite of the night's TV snack, chewed and swallowed. Then, finally, Vic continued.

"Even before we got the files, I had already done some research on the Operators. The team's most persistent foe was a mob boss who went by the alias John Mark. They never found out what his legal name was, but he bore all the hallmarks of what today we'd call a mastermind. They considered him to be an unusually intelligent crime family head, and organized crime leader.

"He must have started his criminal career pretty young, too," Vic continued. "He had been around for several years before they - the Operators - first encountered him and he was still very active over a decade later. He was suspected of arranging the deaths of Operator 3 and Miss Tress, both in 1945. Most people thought he was killed in a shootout with the FBI in 1946 - which happened largely because of those murders - but the surviving team members were never sure that the body the FBI found was actually him, and even expressed doubts about that. However, there was no further activity from anyone using the name John Mark, and there was no more activity with his unique style.

"The remaining members had only a few more adventures together. They talked about adding new members after the deaths of Operator 3 and Miss Tress, but never did. I guess the fun went out of crime fighting for the survivors, though they did continue on for a while. The Operators officially retired as a group in late 1947. Partly because of those deaths, and partly due to increasing government interference in super activities. Dr. Dire and Captain Sticky quit the business entirely, immediately after the group disbanded.

"Dr. Dire simply disappeared. There are a lot of rumors about what happened to him, but nothing substantiated. Captain Sticky went public and made a fortune selling advanced adhesives and release agents. He never revealed the identities of his teammates, even claiming they had all kept them secret from each other. Voo Dude had a solo career for about three more years, before he also retired. We think he actually used the old lair some, before finally closing it for good. Eventually they all died."

"That's... a bit depressing," said Michelle, quietly.

"Well, most of them lived at least into their sixties," said Vic, philosophically. "Which is unusual for such active masks, on either side of the law. So they had full lives. Most are even known to have descendants, legitimate and otherwise."

"What do they - those descendants you mentioned - have to say about the publication of those old journals?"

"So far, nothing. They may not even know about that. I don't think any of them still live in this area."

* * *

The Monday morning briefings at the Detroit branch of the Bureau of Special Resources were not usually this interesting. Of course, these were unusual times, even for this group.

"Okay, we - some people in our office, but mainly the FBI - were able to combine what the Operators had on John Mark and what has been uncovered since they retired to make a discovery," said Drake, after covering more mundane matters. "'John Mark' may - may - have been an alias of Conrad Kostinos."

"That's good news," said Vic, nodding. "A few decades late, but if we know who he really was it might provide leads on who the current local head of the syndicate is. As well as solving the murders of Operator 3 and Miss Tress."

"He was the adopted son of Hercules Kubiac," said Drake, realizing that most of his employees wouldn't know that. "Even married into the family, later."

"Wait," said Cal Pavolin, raising a hand. "Of the Greek Kubiacs? The family of super strong and tough people, like the Pagano family in Italy?"

"Yes. A bunch of them got very angry with organized sports in the Fifties when several family members were banned from competing, as supers. That's how I know about them. People were still talking about what they did in response when I was in my teens."

"Well, that was years - decades - after what we're talking about," said Cindy Larsen, though she seemed impressed.

"Yes," said her boss, nodding. "This branch of the Kubiacs are a Detroit crime family with roots going back to their first immigrant members, in the late Nineteenth Century. They used their personal powers to act as enforcers and gain influence in crime family circles.

"Except Conrad Kostinos was adopted," Drake finished, pointedly. "He didn't get the family muscles, but still worked his way up to being in charge, of both the family and organized crime in Detroit. Often with lethal results for his opponents. He is credited with transforming the family from hired muscle to bosses."

"He sounds like a mastermind," said Vic, in sudden revelation.

"Yes. Or a ruthless crime lord."

"Fits, either way."

"Right now, this information isn't helping us much," said Drake, summing up. "The only connections it gives us are decades old. Just keep it in mind when investigating local super criminal activity. The perps could have their own connections with large-scale organized crime."

* * *

"Pray for me," said Vic, as she and Michelle got ready for sleep that night. "I have to go give someone their powers testing results tomorrow."

"Did they pass?" said Michelle, sleepily. She yawned.

"You know it's not that kind of test," said Vic, also sleepily, and a bit grumpily. "I hate having to do this."

"Oh, come on. You love it. You get to be all formal and officious and teachy and explainy..." She yawned again, and was asleep before Vic could form a retort.