Project Northwoods

by Jonathan Charles Bruce

  “One set is for you.” His eyes flashed up toward the camera as his voice called her attention up to meet his gaze. “Another in there… less perfect because I had to make it… was supposed to be for Tim.” He swallowed and inhaled a sharp, shuttering breath. “Take them and run. When you leave, it will take the motion sensors ten minutes to shut everything down. After that, explosives will cave in the bunker and bury any evidence that you were here.” For a moment, he looked ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Ari.” His eyes flicked up toward the camera again. “I love you.”

  The lights turned up as the video flicked off. Shaking, Ariana opened the drawer. She took out a stack of papers and stared at them, chin quivering. Arthur wanted to run toward her, hold her close in her time of need, but thought better of it. Ariana stumbled backward a little, her eyes struggling to comprehend what she held. Her eyes flicked up toward the others, then back at the papers. Without a word, she disappeared through a hallway, leaving the others to consider her fading footsteps.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Allison announced after a few moments. Something clanked loudly. “So, what exactly is the plan, Art?” He turned to her, the woman distracted by the mound of metallic whatsits on the nearest table. Eventually, she looked up. “It seems like the guy we’re looking for isn’t here.”

  Agent Mast stepped forward. “You heard the search drones. We have until midnight before everyone in the Fortress is dead.” She swallowed, looking at the others. No one seemed all that willing to meet her gaze.

  “We have to kill Arbiter,” Stair offered.

  Morgan gave a derisive laugh. “Good luck with that one.”

  “You have a problem, hero?” Stair snapped back quickly.

  Steven quickly shoved himself in front of Morgan as she made to confront Stair. “This isn’t helping,” he grunted.

  “Attempting to kill Arbiter will result in only two scenarios,” Zombress said. All eyes fell on her as she leaned against the far wall, checking her nails. Finally content, the woman pushed herself off and took a few long steps toward the group. “One, he kills whoever is stupid enough to confront him. Or, two, someone gets lucky. For a moment.”

  “Long enough to get their name in the paper?” Allison asked, hopping up on a table. She scoffed. “I could live with that.”

  Colonel Morant stepped forward. “She means that heroes loyal to Arbiter would still be loyal to him after his death.”

  “At the very least, we have SERAPHIM to deal with,” Agent Mast offered.

  Morant nodded. “Claymore, Gunslinger, Archetype and Zealot are the only remaining licensed heroes in New York.” His eyes fell on Mast. “If anything, they’d need to be neutralized as well.”

  Arthur shook his head. “Not Julia.”

  The colonel turned to face Arthur. “Gunslinger?”

  Immediately, Arthur’s gaze fell to the floor. “She’s my sister. I… I can’t…” He looked up again. “I can’t believe she’s as involved as the others are.” The following silence took its time petering out.

  “Your father never mentioned a son,” came Morant’s eventual response. The pause afterward was uncomfortable. “Arthur, she has made no effort to stop Arbiter…”

  “And neither did you until today,” Arthur snapped.

  Morant’s eyebrow rose in annoyance, but he nodded solemnly. “The fact remains that there are those who would rally around him in his death.”

  “Or,” Mast began, “they’d see further proof that he was right all along.” Her eyes went to Arthur. “And they’d have the death ray.”

  “Then what do we do?” Cleese asked. “It appears as though we’re, to put it lightly, screwed.”

  Marsh moved toward Cleese, nodding his head. “I hate to agree with him, but he’s right.” He held out one hand. “We turn ourselves in, we’re dead.” He held out his other hand. “We fight back, we’re dead now or slightly later.”

  “No.” The monosyllabic word drew attentions back to Arthur. He didn’t return their gaze, his eyes drawn to the floor. “If… if I can get to the death ray console… if they built it to my specifications again…”

  “And judging by the speed with which they pumped the weapon out, they did,” Mast mused.

  “… I can fix the targeting system to an uninhabited location. Use the built-in death sentence trigger against Arbiter.” He chose now to look up. A sea of unreadable faces regarded him stonily. Arthur found his mouth had gone dry, but tried to swallow anyway. “Regardless of whether we win or lose, the most dangerous component is kept out of play.”

  Morgan took a step forward, her arms folded. “And how do you propose we do this?” She smirked. “Overseer is the most advanced computer on the eastern seaboard.” She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Plus, the mainframe is behind a keycard lock. Good luck getting access.”

  “Mollie,” Stair answered for Arthur.

  Morgan’s attention snapped to Stair. “Who the fuck is Mollie?”

  “The ace up our sleeve,” Arthur responded as he worked at getting the backpack off. “The trick is how to get her into the Guild computer without it finding her.” He placed the backpack on the ground and pulled out his laptop. “I’ll need her help to get access to the death ray debug system.”

  “What about the rest of us, Art?” Steven asked as Arthur brought his computer to the clutter-free table. “I mean, it’s great that you may be able to dick around with the system, but realistically speaking, we need a bigger plan.”

  “No,” Mast said. “Arthur needs to disable the death ray. Everything else works toward that end.” She looked at Colonel Morant as Arthur opened the laptop, nodding in agreement. “It’s the only way.”

  The colonel nodded. “It is the only way to preserve as many lives as possible.”

  Zombress laughed, cynical and short. “Arbiter will retaliate against any show of force or defiance.” She cracked her neck to the side. “The boy succeeding will buy the more rational members of society time to act.”

  Morgan scoffed as she turned toward a wall. “If they feel like it.” She collapsed in an annoyed heap, eyes focused on her shoes rather than those around her. Steven joined her by the wall, remaining upright but close by.

  “The primary objective, then, will be to disable the death ray,” Arthur said. His eyes went to the floor.

  Agent Mast stepped forward to pick up the slack. “Secondary objective will be to capture Arbiter and incapacitate his accomplices.” There was a derisive snort from Weston Marsh as he kicked at an imaginary something.

  “I would recommend the tertiary objective be to find any information regarding the death of Dark Saint,” Zombress said matter-of-factly as she checked her nails. “I, for one, would like to know why I was spiked into the floor all those weeks ago.”

  “I can have Mollie backup any files and hijack the video feeds of the Guild,” Arthur said, nodding. “I’m sure we can scrounge up some headsets between here and the Enforcers.” He looked at Morant. “If you’d be willing to donate any spares, that is.” The colonel nodded. “Mollie can stay linked in and record anything we find.”

  “Does anyone know this Mollie?” Morgan asked, clearly annoyed. “Anyone?”

  “Alright, time out,” Marsh said, holding his hands up in a ‘T’. “What if Arbiter, and I think we all know the answer to this, is resigned to being High Consul?” Marsh scoffed. “Do you think that he’s going to hand over the keys to the city after all is said and done?”

  “He’s right,” Morgan said from her position. “The only one speaking for heroes anymore is Arbiter. And it’s not like any of them are challenging him.”

  Colonel Morant took a step toward Arthur. “If I could rally some Enforcers and other heroes together, we could challenge SERAPHIM and his supporters. Show them that the time has come to stop this madness.”

  Agent Mast’s sunglasses fell down the bridge of her nose as she looked at Morant. “Such a demonstration would warrant the BVH to step in to restore order.”<
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  The colonel smiled widely. “I do what I can.”

  “You’re assuming he’ll step down,” Zombress said icily. “Do you think for one moment he won’t fight back?”

  “Especially if this Aeschylus asshole tries anything stupid,” grumbled Steven.

  “None of us are that naive,” Arthur said, ignoring the mobster’s interjection. The Queen of the Dead cocked an eyebrow at him, which immediately threw his attention to the others. “But if he won’t step down, attacks other heroes or any BVH Agents, he’s proving the case against himself.” He took a breath. “And if all else fails, the death ray will be disabled. Genocide will be taken off the menu.”

  “For a moment, at least,” Zombress said. She shoved herself off the wall and placed her hands on her hips. “So, while the erstwhile colonel leads his heroic brethren at the front of the Guild, how do we help the boy get where he’s going?”

  Agent Mast cocked a smile and folded her arms. “I’ll send word to the Bureau that a hero-led plan against Arbiter is mobilizing.” She cocked her head. “If you’ll join me, Zombress, I think you could be the backup that a detachment of agents needs to convince Arbiter we mean business.”

  “Sounds delightful,” Zombress said with a chuckle. She squinted dangerously. “And if anyone runs into that bastard Archetype, leave him to me.” She rolled her shoulders, loosening up. “I owe him a little visit.”

  “I’ll keep watch on boy wonder over here,” Allison said, gesturing to Arthur with her thumb.

  “Want some backup, boss?” Steven asked, pushing off the wall toward Allison. She nodded excitedly and offered her hand, which he grasped in solidarity.

  “There are still two problems,” came a tinny voice from the computer. Those unfamiliar with Mollie cast a confused glance at the source of the interjection.

  Arthur crossed to the laptop and waved at the swirling blue iris. “Go ahead, Mol.”

  “The death ray is designed to have a manual failsafe which, based off the technology of the Heroes’ Guild, is most likely a keycard.” The iris dimmed. “And I assume the only one with access will be Arbiter.”

  “Oh,” Arthur said. “But the security…”

  “Secondly,” she squeaked shrilly, cutting him off, “Overseer will not be so easily tricked after evading him twice.” A brief pause. “Dying is not high on my to-do list.”

  “Ah,” Arthur said.

  The silence which descended on the room was painful. Arthur shut his eyes, trying to concentrate through a sudden headache. There had to be something…

  “Are they still watching my e-mail?”

  Morgan rose from her position on the floor, roused from the power of her voice. Her eyes flicked from face to face before settling on Colonel Morant’s. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

  “Standard operating procedure for Guild security breaches, right?” she asked. “Overseer would automatically open e-mails and attachments in a quarantined location, then archive them if they were deemed safe.” Her eyes went to Steven.

  “You’re right,” Colonel Morant said with a nod. “Arbiter made sure I kept Overseer on guard over your e-mail at the Guild.” He looked at Arthur. “Even after she was captured.”

  “Think you can make Overseer believe you’re a nonthreatening item of importance?” Arthur asked Mollie with a smile.

  “He may be a big dumb killing machine,” she said with a wry note that probably was only imagined, “but he is also a big dumb machine.”

  “Aren’t you a machine?” Steven asked.

  Arthur shot him a dirty look. Mollie’s iris swirled slightly faster than normal. “Cogito ergo sum, you mother-shaming waste of carbon,” she hissed. Arthur stifled a laugh as Steven took a moment to process the clunky insult.

  “Make it look like I’m leaving the country,” Morgan offered. “I’m sure Arbiter would love a piece of information like that.”

  “Interesting challenge,” Mollie sighed. “Perhaps billing information will make a convincing program shell.” The iris onscreen whirled in place. “I shall begin immediately.”

  Morgan seemed pleased to be a part of something again. “So what else can I help with?” she asked with a cockeyed grin. “A couple of us don’t have any jobs.”

  Morant looked at her, then back at Jack and Marsh. “The three of you can help the Enforcers…”

  Cleese took a step forward to cut him off. “I’m afraid I’m going to sit this one out,” he said with a chuckle. “Insurrection is a young, foolish, handsome man’s game. I, sadly, am only two of those things.” He folded his arms.

  “Coward,” Stair snarled.

  “Whatever, kid,” Marsh grunted. “I’m with Jack. You guys can deal with this shit yourselves.”

  “Why are you even here?” Stair snapped before anyone could interject. “I get why everyone else is in this room, but why you? Why the actor?”

  Marsh looked into an unoccupied corner, shrugged, and proceeded to brush past Jack toward the hall Ariana disappeared down. “It’s not like it makes a difference.” He stopped for a moment and looked back at Cleese. “Let me know when you’re leaving.” And Marsh was gone.

  The awkward silence that Marsh left in his wake provoked a few glances amongst the remainder. Arthur finally cleared his throat. “I’m going to see if there’s any equipment we can salvage from this place before we send Mollie in.” His eyes fell to Stair, then quickly darted toward Colonel Morant. “I would suggest we all get some rest.”

  Zombress was the first to move, silently gliding toward a derelict hallway. Steven went over to Morgan, who for the first time since Arthur had seen her smiled genuinely. Allison and Jack struck up a conversation, while Mast and Stair were talking about something. Arthur smiled as Stair folded her arms and cocked her head, like a petulant teenager, the thought of which made Arthur soberly realize that she was indeed a petulant teenager.

  Morant had sidled up to Arthur, saving the latter from hunting him down. “I haven’t known you for very long, but if you were the mind behind the attack on the Fort, these people have a reason to believe in you.” He moved toward Arthur’s front and looked him in the eyes. “We may have started this on opposite sides, but we should end this together.” The colonel offered his hand to Arthur.

  It took a moment before Arthur looked away. “Not to be rude, but everything is my fault. No one should be here.”

  With a gentle laugh, the Enforcer shook his head slightly. “If that’s how you wish to see it.” His hand fell to his side. “I would suggest taking whatever good out of this situation you can.”

  The colonel turned to walk away, but Arthur grabbed his arm. His eyes flicked from Morant to Stair and back. “Can you get Stair and me to neutral territory?”

  Ariana, wedged in a corner the furthest she could get from the others, had finally gotten through enough of the tears to look at the papers her father had left her. Forged birth certificates, a pair of Social Security cards, even a few convincing resumes. They were perfect, as far as she could tell. They represented a final gift, a means with which she could escape the past… maybe not entirely, but in a way which would allow her to start over.

  The thought was horrible. It was to abandon her heritage, leave Tim rotting in whatever shallow grave he had been tossed in, turn her back on those she had called her friends and everything she believed in. Milling around post-villain New York had been just that, to be sure… but now, with the means to move on from her failed life, it had taken on a new dimension… physical and draining, but psychic and numbing at the same time. She glanced at the elegant forgeries designating her Kara Horswill, perpetual cubicle denizen with a degree in business.

  She looked again at the second set of documents, the set her father had made by painstakingly emulating the original set. Gregory Raupp, someone who was either completely made up or long since dead, would have been Tim’s new identity. Images of practicing calling each other by their new titles, waiting to hit the right reaction to the sound of a strange
r’s name, made her faintly smile as she brushed away a tear.

  The curl of her lips faded. It wasn’t like Tim to walk away from something. He probably had to be talked out of attacking the Fortress by himself the night she was taken away. Even after… the unpleasantries… the cheating… he had fought for her, for them. Something this big was something he couldn’t or wouldn’t turn back from. He had the choice, after all. She had a middling ability, a talent which was barely situationally useful in a fight. He had been an almost-invincible knight, a force of nature.

  It made sense for her to run.

  Right?

  She pushed herself up the wall with the papers clenched firmly in her hand. She found herself light-headed, temporarily stopping her momentum. There was only one person she could make this offer to. Someone who, despite everything, had come for her when even her father had left her.

  The hallways were mostly devoid of life, just the gentle thrum of conversation which barely picked up before fading away as she walked by. The walls seemed to dampen sound, which must have been a courtesy since it appeared as though this had been a barracks for a lot of people at some point. It served, however, to make finding others much more difficult than she anticipated. She passed by one room and found Morgan sleeping on a cot while Steven had propped himself in the far corner, nodding off. Opened packages of food were scattered around them, meaning that there was at least a semi-stocked pantry somewhere in the facility. Other than that brief glimpse of humanity, the only hints of activity were the muffled noises around her.

  She rounded a corner and nearly ran into Stair, who laughed nervously at the near-collision. “Whoa, hey there, Ari.” The awkward smile faded as the teenager looked at her. “You okay?”

  “What?” The question was a knee-jerk reaction. Ariana immediately ran her free hand against her face. “Yeah. Have you, uh, seen Arthur… anywhere?” Her attempt at conveying nonchalance failed miserably.

  “He’s down there, on the right.” Stair pointed. “Mollie finished her shell program.”