Third Most Wanted Monday

You met his brothers, Bear and Davy-san, now its time to meet Sydney.

Sydney: The thinker and heart of the Hired Guns, he works with his brothers for reasons known only to himself.

Real name: Sydney Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Widower
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 180 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and David(Davy-san)
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire/former history teacher
Abilities: Whip mastery and master planner/tactician
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 2

Riding Sidecar
Part II

On Saturday I was so excited that I showed up an hour early. I hid on top of a tiny garage and waited. I do admit that I was also hoping to catch The Victor off guard and learn his identity. After all, fair is fair. It might have worked if the guy working in the garage I was on was making too much noise. I ended up the hour waving to passing pedestrians and missed The Victor showing up or so I thought.

At 10 am, the garage opened up and The Victor wheeled out his motorcycle. I noticed that he had added a yellow sidecar to it. Without even looking up at me, he said, “Okay let’s try her out.” I guess I really do need to work on my stealth.

I tried to hide my surprise, “Wait, you were the guy making all the racket?”

Gesturing at the sidecar like he was showing off a new car, “Just putting the finishing touches on The Crimson Sentinel’s new feature, The Co-Champion.”

Flipping off the garage, I landed just in front of the motorcycle. I gave The Co-Champion a quick unimpressed glance, and turned to The Victor, “A sidecar? Is that my big surprise?”

Getting on his bike, The Victor again gestured at the sidecar, “It’s more than just a sidecar. Hop in and I’ll show you. Your helmet is in the seat.”

Climbing in, I looked at my helmet. It was golden with a face of a squirrel on the visor. The helmet was polished and the paint had just dried. The detail was amazing, if I didn’t know better I would say The Victor had spend as much time on this that he had on The Co-Champion.

I put the helmet on and I looked up at The Victor; he had just put his helmet, it was crimson with a clear capital V on the visor. He was also wearing his trademark grin. Why did he do this? Not just the teamup, but also the whole hero thing.

Before I could continue with my thoughts, they were shattered by a booming voice in my helmet. “Attention all units, the Wild Pack are robbing the Tenth Ave Pantry.”

The Victor kick started the bike and pulled out onto the street. Trying to find something to hold onto as The Victor made a hard right, I asked, “Okay, what was that? And who are the Wild Pack?”

Giving a slight giggle The Victor answered, “More questions, I see. Well the first one is simple, just the police band, the helmets are designed to pickup any call for backup in a twenty block radius. As for the second, it’s kind of complicated. It’s less of who and more of what. The Wild Pack is a group of animal enthusiasts that have spliced their DNA with that a various animals. They are distrustful of anyone that isn’t part of their group, but they normally don’t venture out of their hideout unless they’re short on supplies. Stay out of their way and they usually stay out of yours.”

After that The Victor went quiet and focused on ducking in and out of traffic. I didn’t mind because I wanted to think over what he said. He seemed big on the exposition giving. Not that I minded, my dad once spent an hour explaining the history of New York Library. I remember Blue Be Dad talking about the Wild Pack before, but only to say that he didn’t want to face them alone.

About two minutes later, we pulled in front of Tenth Street Pantry and parked. The entrance was caved in, like someone had driven a car through it. Police were trying to keep away the crowd of onlookers, but turned to look at us. I suddenly felt exposed. I looked at The Victor to see what to do. He just waved at the crowd then folded his arms and lazily leaned back on his seat. I quickly tried to do the same, but the crowd just ignored me and just stared at The Cheerful Champion.

After a minute, a young officer in his early twenties walked over to us. The Victor sat up, looked straight at him, and said, “Rogers, right? Mind giving me the rundown on what happened?”

The officer to a formal stance and rattled off an answer, “Yes, Sir! Three members of the Wild Pack smashed though the front and took off with over $5,000 in food!”

The Victor laughingly said, “At ease, soldier. Did the Mr. Felder see which members it was? Or the direction they went?”

Rogers relaxed, a little, and said, “He said it was Dyer, Dorkin, and Geda. They went east towards Central Park.”

Kick starting the bike, The Victor said, “Very good. Thanks for the assist Rogers; I’ll make sure Officer Huntre hears about it. Let the officers in pursuit know to back off, don’t try to follow them into the park.”

As The Victor pull The Crimson Sentinel out of the parking lot, my mind went over the crowd and what the officer said. They had acted better in front of The Victor than I did. The crowd had been in awe and the officer had acted like The Victor was a superior officer. I know that the Hero Law gave us some freedom, but that was different. The Victor acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but knowing the names of both the owner and a random officer just show that to him it is. I don’t know who Officer Huntre was, but if The Victor wanted me to he would tell me, in great detail.

Turning my thoughts to the Wild Pack, I realized that they must rob this place a lot if the owner knows them by sight. What could they have used on the door? Rogers said the front door was smashed but there wasn’t any tire tracks on the ground. The Victor said they spliced their DNA with animals, but what animal could smash a steel door?

The Victor broke into my thoughts with a shout, “Why couldn’t they have listened?”

Looking up ahead us, I saw two demolished cop cars torn across the entrance of Central Park. A couple of officers were hanging from a few trees, battered but alive. Feeling like I might regret it, I asked, “Whoa, what happened.”

The Victor hopped off the bike and walked over to check on the cops, “Geda. Or as he likes to call himself, Lox.” After getting the cops onto the ground and giving them an all clear, he got back onto The Crimson Sentinel, and headed into the park. I didn’t know that The Victor had medical training. Maybe a hint to his secret identity.

As we rode into the park, I got a sudden chill. I hadn’t thought that that the Wild Pack would be easy to take down, but now I wasn’t sure if they could be.

First Night on the Town

It's late, so this is what I have so far.

First Night on the Town

The echo of my scream greets me as I swing my legs off the hammock. I listen for any reaction to my waking. No just the regular sounds. Mr. & Mrs. Mowrey in 6I is arguing about his cheating. He’s not; he just doesn’t want her to know that he’s addicted to the retro arcade shop that just opened up down the street. Paige Paige, yes that’s her real name, was taking care of her little bundle of screams down stairs. I hope I’m not the reason for the midnight singing. The city is giving the normal performance of sirens, combating music, and colorful language. I was awakened by the nightmare. By that memory.

Before I can let my thoughts continue I realize my hands are cramping and my lungs are burning. Releasing my breath and my grip, I land on the ground with a silent thud. Glancing over to the couch, I breathe a sigh of relief that Mom took Henri for the weekend. Last thing I need is to keep him up with my nightmares.

I walk over to the dresser and look up at the picture of the three of us at The Victorious Hero, right after I got back of New Orleans. No more putting it off. I shove the dresser towards the door, hoping this will work. Otherwise I will get a reaction from the neighbors.

The wheels I added move the dresser smoothly until the rope stops it just short of the door. I check to see if the rope can take the strain again. Good, it can. I lean to check to see if the freed floor safe has been tampered with.

Satisfied I stand up and reach under the picture for the key, my eye catching the small print on the bottom, ‘Familia Primus’. I nod inward to myself and repeat the promise to myself. Always family first, nothing else matters.

I crouch over the safe, inserting the key and placing my thumb on the handle’s scanner in one fluid motion. After turning the key and typing in the seven-digit code, I open the safe and look at the third and forth most important things in my life, my uniform and the journals. Which story will Henri want to hear when he comes back? The Thief Wars? Or maybe Coming Home? After pulling out the uniform I quickly close and lock the safe.

I stare at the bundle for a minute, not believing what I am about to do. The shirt is dark blue and has a giant dove on the chest, the wings reaching into the back in almost a hugging gesture, the wing tips almost touching. That wasn’t in my design, maybe its Dad attempt to be close to me. Shaking off the thoughts of family, I quickly get dressed.

I walk back to the picture and flip it over, revealing the mirror on the back. I look confused at my reflection. I stand wearing the uniform with dark blue gloves and boots, my dark hair flowing over my shoulders. What, why can I see my hair?

Then it hits me. You forget the mask, Virgil. I quickly take the shirt off, put my hair in a ponytail, and tape it between my shoulder blades. Can’t believe I forgot the mask. Bet The Victor never would have.

After making sure I have enough give so I don’t yank out hair, I put on the mask. Its reflective eyes and dark blue skin greet me as I look in the mirror. I muse over my mistake as I put the shield on to my arm. How can I be a symbol of peace and justice, if I’m making mistake before I’m even out on patrol.

I look down at the blue round shield, the bird in the center matches the one on my chest. Running my hand over the rim I look over at my desk and again nod to myself. Guess I’ll have to believe in what Teach taught me: ‘Bluff, luck, and raw talent when you have it.’

It’s time I stop stalling and make my move. I look over my apartment one last time. Hopefully I’ll be back. I walk to the door and start to run towards the side window, sliding the shield onto my back. I dive out the window barely slipping past as I aim for the rooftop below. Watch out New York, here I come.

Running across the rooftops, I test the flexibility of the uniform, leapfrogging over chimneys, flipping through clotheslines, and generally having fun, I should have done this much sooner. Landing on the nearest chimney, I look over the city. So where to start?

From somewhere nearby I hear, “Get away from me! Help!!! So---” Gotta love this city. Time to be a hero.

I head towards where I think the cry came from, listening for anything that will tell me if I’m right. Nothing. The cry belongs to a kid, can’t be any older than ten. Thick Brooklyn accent, what he doing in HK? Guess I’ll have to ask him.

First Title Thursday

Back2Back: A teamup book like DC's Brave and the Bold and Marvel's Marvel Team-up. The name comes from the fighting style most two man teams perform, fighting herds of bad guys with their backs together.

Second Wordy Wednesday

3T Rooms: Rooms that the W.H.O. use for training and recreation.

Second Temporal Tuesday

Future Storyline:

Comic: Earth: Threshold for E.T. and other Aliens
Summary: The Van Decan invade Earth, and the only hope for survival maybe the new mystery man guarding the heroes.
Year: Two

Second Most Wanted Monday

You met Bear last week. Time to meet his brother Davy-san.

Davy-san: The violent leader of the Hired Guns, he sells his karate expertise and his brothers' skills to anyone willing to pay.

Real name: David Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Single
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 170 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and Sydney
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire
Abilities: Karate Master with near borderline superhuman reflexes
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)