Part Nine

Late that night, two super teams located in the eastern portion of the United States finally returned to their bases. Many members of both groups would have been happy to go straight to bed, but there was still much work to do. Follow-ups to this most recent - and shared - mission were held in the appropriate main meeting rooms... though only after team member injuries had been professionally seen to. They also had the opportunity to clean themselves, mainly through hot showers, which helped as much as the medical treatment. When the meetings finally got underway there were hot meals available with favorite drinks, waiting at the team members' seats. This helped as much as the showers and treatments together.

The post-mission debriefings were harsh for both teams. Not so much due to the performance of any individual - though Jet Jaguar received some personal attention from Bowman - as for how they had allowed themselves to be rushed. Then, for the first time in either team's history, they then arranged a conference call between just the two bases for the specific purpose of comparing notes about their shared mission. Interestingly, the main obvious differences between the two conference rooms as due to the respective ages of the bases.

The Assembly, the younger team, had taken over an existing base. This had been created by the Guild in 1962, less than a decade after the original construction of the mountain lair of the Intrepids. The equipment there had been updated multiple times - most recently during the Assembly's refurbishing - but the chamber still had an air of use and confinement. It gave the impression of occupied space, of tunnels and chambers burrowed into rock. The Intrepids were an older team, but their current base had been built new from scratch. Indeed, some parts were still under construction. Despite occupying a similar underground space, their conference room had higher ceilings and lighter colors, giving an impression of openness.

Once the mutual performance review was through, the two teams moved on to connected matters of interest to both groups.

"The sedative effect of the venom from the creatures' fangs is confirmed," said Dr. Gorgeous, as a way to open this part of the video conference once the greetings were through. "As is the fact that the toxin had a biological half-life in the human body of just six hours. This is likely part of how the original creature subdued those in the Iceworm base and the recovery ship. There do not appear to be any lasting effects."

"Good news all around," said Bowman. "Please send the details to Dr. Whiskers."

"Certainly."

"We still don't know what T.O.W.E.R. did with the younger monster," said Champion, sourly.

"That is bothering us, too," said Bowman. "At first our contact at the UN didn't even know what we were asking about! Even after I explained and she checked, when she got back to me she said she had been given the runaround... which she definitely did not like. Though any or all of this lack of communication could simply be due to the short amount of time which has passed.

"My contact finally went over the heads of the commanders of T.O.W.E.R., directly to some of the people on the UN committee which gives T.O.W.E.R. their authority. The people she talked to were rather upset at the way T.O.W.E.R. is handling the situation, and told their commanders to talk to my contact. They did, but even then, she wasn't told much."

"We've been assured it's in a secure habitat," said Solange, with a scowl, as she cut to the core of the subject. "That's about it."

"Presumably in a place where it is comfortable and can't dominate anyone," said the Black Mask.

"That is really worrying," said Champion. She had actually bothered to change into another of her costumes after showering. She was already healed enough by that time that the medics had declared another bandage unnecessary. "Please keep us informed of any developments with the creature."

"We are planning to file a complaint with the Bureau of Special Resources," said Bowman. "I suggest you do the same. They can't do anything directly with T.O.W.E.R. or the UN, but they can officially point out the problem to the State Department. Maybe even find out the truth about what they're doing with the juvenile through that channel."

"That is a good idea," said Champion, nodding.

"On a better note," said Bowman, "Greenland has already found the crashed spaceship and is making plans to recover it. Turns out it was still almost completely encased in ice, and was grounded on rocks at the coast, near where the construction was in 1960. From their preliminary examination they believe the bodies of the actual alien crew are still inside."

"I hope the UN doesn't grab that, too," said Thunderer. "Say, what happened with the fighting Fosworths?"

"They were long gone by the time we got back," said Bowman, looking relieved. "Our security people and the videos showed that once they lost their main audience - that is, the team members - they wound down and both eventually flew away. Hiram in his helicopter."

"Somebody needs to keep watch on both of them," said Solange, scowling.

"I'm already on that," said Bowman, nodding.

* * *

This was the first time Michelle had been to the place where Vic reported for work. Bruno Drake welcomed her warmly, then had the two women sit in guest chairs, while he went back behind his modest desk.

"I understand you folks had a lot of trouble with the local cops yesterday."

"Not really," said Vic, who was wearing civvies instead of her armor. "They let us drive to the station on our own, after Michelle got home. There was just a lot of time needed before they were finished with us. We got home kind'a late."

"The Feds showed up before we could leave the station," said Michelle, sourly. "Uh, the other feds. Including the Better Business Bureau!"

"They're not actually feds," said Vic, straight-faced. "Though I can see why they wanted to be involved. However, they got there after the FBI did and claimed priority, even over other federal agencies. Including ours."

"Well, there were plenty of alphabet soup groups involved, some of them from the federal government, and I couldn't keep it all straight," said Michelle, with vague, waving motions.

"Trust me, I understand," said Drake, with a sympathetic smile. "For now, everyone involved is willing to let the FBI take the lead. From what I understand, your former landlord is outraged at being charged with federal crimes, especially the hate crimes. 'I don't hate anybody! I just wanted that meddling bitch to mind her place!'"

"Ow..." said Vic, smirking.

"Yes, well, I'll make certain to keep both of you up to date on the case. The way Zandelo is talking - even bragging - we'll probably have the ID of whoever tossed your place pretty soon. Assuming he didn't do it, himself."

"I understand he's the one who called the 'burglary' in," said Vic, nodding. "Maybe he did do it."

"Yes. None of your neighbors seemed to notice anything. Most of them work during the day, so that's understandable. Which raises the question of how he knew to call the cops."

"So who will take over the building?" said Michelle, practically. "We just found that place. We don't want to move again, especially so soon."

"The owners say they already have someone in mind," said Drake, leaning back. "However, they may also be implicated in the scam you two got hit with previously. They own that apartment building as well as the one you're now in, and many others where the scam was run. If they are involved with the scam, they'll probably be indicted, and likely forced to sell. For now, though, your home is safe."

"That's good news," said Vic, with a tired sigh.

"We've also confirmed that your building's manager was the person who bought the hit on Vic," said Drake, looking back and forth between them. "He's probably also behind all trouble you two were having with addicts. Oh, and the girl who kept trying to push past Vic and leave the restroom after the shooting at the concert is the shooter's girlfriend. She was there to confuse things with the police. Only when they started asking pointed questions she decided to save her own skin and turned on him."

"No honor among thieves," said Michelle, firmly.

"The bad news is," said Drake, "since the guy who tried to shoot you was taken into custody, there have been two more reliable reports of someone 'arresting' a super with few or no physical powers. Usually with fatal results."

"Oh, God..." said Michelle, astounded. "It's a franchise."

* * *

"That's interesting news," said Trujillo, the next day, as Vic brought her mentor up to date on these matters. He peered at Vic, who seemed disturbed. "What's wrong? Isn't it a good thing to have the mystery of the apartment scammers cleared up? Even if not completely..."

"I'm concerned with something else, just now," said Vic, with a vague gesture. "We like to think that if a super actually gets killed, it's by another super, or by an extremely skilled normal, or while fighting off a small army, or... The guy who came after me, though, was just a bit above average. Even if he wasn't the same person who killed Mr. Gone, that was probably also someone normal who just had a big gun."

"True. However, Mr. Gone was physically normal, and disdained self-defense training, counting on his intellect or his henches to protect him," said Trujillo. He smiled. "None of which apply to you. Unless you're going to get overconfident and coast."

"Not likely," said Vic, quite seriously. She looked thoughtful for a moment, before speaking again. "Most masks - whether good guys or bad - are high self-evaluators. We're always checking our performance. Did I do that right? Even if so, how could I do it better? Well, except for the paranoids. They're usually inventing scenarios to explain their failures as the fault of someone else."

"That's not surprising," said Trujillo. Who was likely remembering his own time wearing a mask. "Those who don't constantly evaluate their performance and look for improvements don't last long in that business."

* * *

Hiram Fosworth was scowling. He was still sitting at his desk in his main office building in Chicago, well after quitting time. That sort of arbitrary scheduling was for workers, not bosses. The dusk outside made no difference in this artificially lit structure devoted to international business. His aides had learned to leave him alone when he brooded. Currently, he was definitely brooding. All the work he'd put into revitalizing his powers, and now his sister had stolen part of it! Intolerable!!

Well, it wouldn't stand. He wouldn't let it! His agents were already checking into acquiring the old, family farm. He'd originally let it go because there was just him and his sister left. He hadn't needed that albatross of a house or the useless swampland, no matter what family connections there were, no matter what sentiments were associated with it. However, if Laurie were somehow using it against him, he'd just buy it back!

* * *

Many other people were also up late this evening. One group was on Pine Island. While the school only owned a small part of the actual island, they were the only organized bureaucracy here except for the small UN contingent. Even those personnel usually deferred to the school administration. A responsibility those who ran to the school, the hospital and the old Pine base took seriously.

This meeting was unusual not only in the reason behind it, but the uncertainty as to whether it was even worth meeting about.

"The Puerto Rico Trench is becoming more and more active," said Junker, addressing Principal Eve Hind specifically. As usual he wore a blue jumpsuit with many large pockets. "You need to talk to the geologists for the details. I don't understand half of what they say, which gives you an idea of how esoteric all this is. I can tell they're worried, though."

"Is this caused by Pine's work?" said Eve, whose clothing was the epitome of simple elegance, frowning. "Or the demons coming through his volcano? Some combination?"

"Almost certainly not. Either of those, alone or in combination. Oh, there could be trivial effects from those events, but even Pine pulling enough rock and magma above the water to make this island was like a pimple on an elephant."

"Inelegantly but descriptively phrased," said Eve, dryly.

"Of course, that fact won't keep some people from blaming us for the earthquakes," said Template, as usual in her costume and mask. "Which are being felt over this whole region. So, no-one from here should mention any of this except to knowledgeable and sympathetic people."

"Oh, definitely," said Eve, nodding.

* * *

In a marsh bordered by fields on one side and a swamp on another, an elven maid danced and danced and danced... Though only after her chores were done.

She was not oblivious to the problem presented by her brother. In fact, she had already taken measures to frustrate his ambitions. That accomplished, this was more important. Much more important.