Part Fourteen: Epilog

Days later, Cong was finally released from US Coast Guard custody for discipline by the Bay Area Guardians. Since the islands had been unclaimed at the time of his one-man invasion, both the US and Canadian governments had decided not to press charges. (Whether someone representing the island's management would was another matter.) In a very deliberate decision, the governments of the two nations left his punishment to his peers. He was picked up by Mesa, Andrea and Lungfish and brought back to San Francisco. Fortunately for all involved, he behaved himself.

The hearing did not go well for Cong. Partly because he refused representation, announcing he would defend himself. As it turned out, his only defense against accusations of some serious violations of both US law and the charter of the Bay Area Guardians was to repeatedly and insistently say he had done the right thing. He didn't even try the tactic of nullification, admitting he broke the law but that in this case the law was wrong, as an attorney might have. In the end he was, of course, off the team. As well as blacklisted.

"I still think it was worth it," said Cong, defiantly, once judgement was announced. "My career as a super hero may be over, but I got that whole place cleaned out and the fight racket shut down. I consider that an equitable trade."

"You did nothing but force our hand!" said Steel Lace, furious that he still didn't see what he had done wrong. As team leader she was prohibited from being the judge, that role going to the senior attorney on retainer for the Bay Area Guardians. However, she was the one who formally announced the penalty. "We had plans in the works for a unified operation, which would have been a lot safer for all concerned. On top of that, the Coast Guards of both nations were already on the way! We were just lucky that having to jump the gun like that didn't result in fatalities. Or failure!"

Still refusing to accept blame, he glared at Steel Lace.

"If not for me, you would still be sitting on your ass, ignoring the situation!"

"We weren't ignoring it," said Steel Lace, acidly. "We were working with the feds and three Canadian super teams - including the Toronto Team - on a legal takedown of those behind the racket. You got us involved in a situation where the charges may not stick, some of the organizers got away, with a huge increase in risk to everyone involved, just because you thought your impatience was more important than proper procedure."

"I'm still glad I did it. No telling how many supers would have suffered or even died while you folks did your paperwork."

"Well, to reiterate, you're off the team," said Steel Lace, deciding to give it up as a lot cause. "If you had shown any sign that you had learned anything from your mistakes we'd work with you. As it is, you're getting your two-weeks notice. You'll probably even face indictment, once the civilian governments catch up!"

"I don't care. I did what was right."

* * *

After he left, Steel Lace sought out Tiger in his Base Engineer's office and briefed him on the matter. She paced while doing this, then dropped into his guest chair when she finished.

"Was I right?" she asked after a long moment of silence. "I mean, I was just as concerned as he was about what was happening, but felt that going through proper procedure was more important that immediate action."

"Yeah," said Tiger, nodding. "In this case, definitely yeah. Oh, we could have sent a covert team in to demolish the place if there was some immediate need, but this had been going on for years and wasn't getting worse while we gathered data and went through channels. It took patience and cooperation to dig out the roots of that institution. I just hope we got 'em all."

"Even if we did," said Steel Lace, tiredly, "we now have a moral obligation to find a replacement for the money this cost some charities."

* * *

At roughly this same time, Vic was having a private briefing from her boss.

"The figure in the crater turned out to be a dummy," said Drake. "An android, actually. The radiation source was a block of unenriched uranium under it - in an armor ceramic, high-pressure container - activated by three concealed neutron beams from devices around the inside of the crater. Why they wanted us to think a long-gone hero was the source is unknown."

"Typical mastermind flourish," said Vic, spreading her hands in a shrug. "Creating confusion among 'lessers' is the sort of thing which amuses them."

"On a related matter, we have an ID on Invicta," said Drake. "We now have her birth name - Emilia Bradford - and background. Her history isn't what she claimed. While her family could have been more supportive after Stone changed her, it was her idea to abandon them. She tried working in professional wrestling, but got thrown out. We're still trying to figure how she wound up with the Super Combat Federation."

"So was she just spinning a story for sympathy?" said Vic, thoughtfully. "Or was she delusional? Or was she given that story by Rasputnik? Maybe some combination?"

"That will probably take a while to determine," said Drake. "Meanwhile, the DNA tests on the moose-trampled corpse identified the victim as petty criminal known for his ability with cooking the books for boss criminals. So not either Unduly Özil or Rasputnik. How he came to be there and mangled is something else we'll have to work out later.

"Which reminds, me, are you sure that moose wasn't some sort of android? With all the human androids involved and that moose behaving unusually..."

"We actually thought of that," said Vic, nodding. "Tiger said it was a real moose, and his senses are a lot keener than mine; though neither of us got close enough to use our sense of perception on it. Whether Rasputnik's mind control extends to animals is another matter."

* * *

Vic definitely got some compensatory leave for the time involved with her work on the islands. Something both she and Michelle greatly appreciated. Especially since Michelle also had some leave time accrued. The romantic duo were able to arrange for substitutes at their respective jobs for the same days off. Much of this vacation time was spent visiting family.

Back in Detroit, on the second-last night before they were scheduled to return to work, the couple were enjoying themselves at Wok on the Wild Side. They picked this particular night because the place was set up for the weekly karaoke event. Better, this week's theme was "Nostalgia." Vic and Michelle did a duet of "Piano Roll Blues" to mild acclaim, then sat down to enjoy the rest of the performances. After a short while, though, there was a pause in those.

"Looks like they ran out of volunteers early tonight," said Vic. "Oh! Did I tell you that Drake called me this afternoon with some good news? The Detroit office of the Bureau of Special Resources got the new employee we've been needing. A woman named Dela True."

"Sounds like a character from the Perry Mason show," said Michelle, who liked old TV programs. She grinned. "I wondered who was calling, and why you seemed happy afterwards. I figured you'd tell me eventually. Which you did."

Vic was about to coyly suggest heading back to their apartment, when the parking lot door opened.

A man came in, wearing what looked like motorcyclist's leathers, with an electric guitar slung across his back. A custom Gibson. He appeared young and slim, but possessed a gravitas which only comes with great age, much experience or some combination. Casually, he walked towards the karaoke stage, calmly looking around, attracting little attention. Some people did notice, though, and fell silent. Vic, who was one of those, thought he looked familiar. He turned towards her, smiled and put his finger to his lips; and she knew.

The man stepped onto the empty stage, plugged his guitar in with it still on his back, and took the mike. Without him doing anything else, music began playing. Mostly electric piano, with bass, drum and cymbal backing, in a deceptively mild tune.

He took a deep breath, and began a rapid-fire chanting.

"B. B. Bumble and the Stingers, Mott the Hoople, Ray Charles Singers,

"Lonnie Mack and Twangin' Eddy, here's my ring we're goin' steady."

He kept going for an impressively long time, and when he finally stopped to breathe the chorus came in.

"Life is a rock but the radio rolled me."

When the song finished he bowed to a standing ovation. Then, as calmly and casually as he had entered, he unplugged his apparently unused guitar and left the restaurant. As unhurriedly as he had arrived.

"Who was that?" said Michelle, stunned, as they finally resumed their seats.

"The god of rock," whispered Vic.

* * *

"Well, that's one training ground ruined," said the woman, sourly, after the preliminary reports were presented. She looked over at the aide in charge of cleanup. "You sure you got rid of anything which could connect us with the Super Battle Federation?"

There were fewer than a dozen people present in the meeting room. However, through their cascading ranks of underlings they decided policy and for and actions of thousands. Together, they would fix the world.

"Yeah," said the man, nodding. "Even that guy Özil didn't know that the guards he was using were our plants, there to train to take out supers."

The man laughed.

"He just kept griping that the fatality rate was too high."

"Good work," said the leader, now also nodding. She looked around the table. "We should keep a low profile for a while, but probably not too long. Our overall plans remain unaffected. We'll soon have an army of normal humans who can effectively kill supers."