Project Northwoods

by Jonathan Charles Bruce

  “Always timely, Catalina,” he said with a note of ingratiating praise.

  “You pay the bills, monsignor,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Arthur stared, disbelieving, between the two of them. “You’ve been working with my father the entire time?”

  “Your old man and I go way back. He needed people snuffed out and crews who wouldn’t ask questions, I wanted a shit load of money.” She rolled her eyes upward and bared her teeth widely. “It was win-win.”

  “Catalina was not only my answer to those heroes of,” Dark Saint seemed to have trouble coming up with the word, “murky… character, but also to the question of keeping you safe.” His eyes flitted to her, dark and unreadable. “Even if she did end up losing you for a while.”

  “I said I was sorry. But you also promised the little idiot would split when the going got rough,” Catalina snapped. “Besides, I thought kick-starting the battle at the Fortress was enough of an apology.”

  Dark Saint chuckled. “In any case, there were heroic elements which needed to be eliminated due to their undesirable pasts.” He inhaled deeply. “All a part of the plan.”

  “The list of names Talia had… the ones from Daly…” Arthur said.

  “My grocery list,” Catalina cooed, a wicked smile curving her lips.

  Arthur looked at his father. “But… but you couldn’t have planned for the attack on the Fortress… or even the death of the mobster the night you were supposed to have died.”

  Dark Saint cocked an eyebrow and looked over at Catalina. “Yes. The unfortunate matter of having a traitor in the Italian Mob was a bit of a fly in the ointment.”

  “Harold Daly was with the FBI, trying to gather evidence of my arms dealings,” Catalina said, checking her gun disinterestedly. “He stumbled on my work with your father and things got… messy… from there.” She looked back at Arthur. “He trashed my office trying to find more evidence linking us.” She gestured with her gun to herself and Dark Saint.

  “He was no doubt trying to warn Agent Mast about my plans,” Dark Saint said, adjusting his shoulders to make himself seem more rigid. “Catalina warned me, and I had Aquaria hold him up long enough for me to find and eliminate them.” He seemed to reconsider his statement for a moment. “Almost.”

  “Why?” Julia asked, shaking with rage and drawing the attention of the conspirators. Arthur went back to looking at Mollie out of the corner of his eye “Why would you do this? For some crazy notion that killing people will make a perfect world?”

  Y…R…A… The letters flowed fast, barely any difference between the dots and dashes.

  “You are acting like you had no part in this,” Dark Saint growled, rolling his head toward his daughter. “Inevitably you would have seen that this is the only way. You witnessed the desperation of villainy, fought against Zombress…”

  Z…E…S… Mollie was ‘panicked’ in her own way.

  “You framed her!” she shouted. “You lied to everyone, made your family think you were dead…”

  H…I… There wouldn’t be errors… it wasn’t like her.

  “For a noble cause!” Dark Saint shouted. “Zombress has killed hundreds in the brief lifetime we have known about her, and yet she was allowed to walk amongst us heroes! She was the symbol of the corruption, the disgusting charade our lives had become!” He spat on the floor. “Faking brawls on the streets for the amusement of the brain-dead neutrals. No pride, no dignity… just a bunch of actors dancing to the beat of millions of useless civilians!” He took a step forward, laughing hollowly, the disconcerting timbre of it making Arthur shake. “Super heroes should be guiding the world to a glorious future, not placating the masses or constantly embroiled in this endless war.”

  T…S…O…S…C…O…P… Was this the beginning or the end?

  “But we were working on a better world! Balance and order…” Julia tried to interject.

  “Are a charade when it comes to villains,” Dark Saint interrupted.

  “Look at how quickly everyone turned their backs on Zombress,” Catalina said. “Archetype may have fooled the heroes in attendance that night, but they wanted to be fooled. They knew her past and tried her before she had a chance to defend herself.” She snorted. “So much for due process, am I right?”

  What is she trying to say? Arthur thought desperately as the letters started to cycle. He tried to put the letters in an order that made sense… she had to have some plan. Otherwise, there’d be no reason to contact him…

  Julia stepped toward her father threateningly. “And what about Desert Ranger? What did he do to deserve a place on your hit list?”

  “My sweet daughter.” Dark Saint smiled and moved toward Julia. He placed a hand on her cheek condescendingly before she darted away. “So naive. Desert Ranger was an undocumented Bestowed before 2001. He was quite a busy boy in the eighties, giving Saddam Hussein endless grief until he fled here and adopted a false identity to hide from his pursuers.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Arthur shouted, angry at his overwhelming powerlessness. “That’s it? Because he was classified as a villain by a dictator’s government…”

  “That we were very friendly with,” Dark Saint said curtly, cutting him off. He appeared to mull something over, then added, “At the time.”

  Arthur glared at his father as the letters ran through his head.

  “Your kids are kind of killing my buzz, Dante,” Catalina mused, punctuating it with a yawn. “How about we cut to the laser show?” Arthur and Julia exchanged looks of panic at the offer.

  “An excellent suggestion, Catalina.” Dark Saint turned to the monitor. “Overseer–”

  Chaos erupted, starting with a gunshot as Julia quickly grabbed her second revolver from her back holster. Cocking the hammer with her thumb, the first shot blew Mat off his feet and slammed him into the nearest computer tower. Catalina whipped toward Julia, but Mast yanked the woman’s foot from underneath her before pinning the mobster beneath her. Mast grabbed for her gun, Catalina struggling to bring her own weapon about as Julia turned her attention to her father, fanning the hammer of her revolver and diving backward.

  Arthur darted toward the console a second time as Dark Saint’s visage stuttered around itself, teleporting with a pop as he seemingly exploded numerous times in furious, short hops. Somewhere in the disappearing and reappearing mass, Julia’s guided bullets whirled around, struggling to hit home. Mat had pushed himself off the tower only to be knocked back into it when Mast aimed her gun and fired at his center mass, ripping into his bulletproof vest hard enough to send him staggering back as Catalina slammed her gun into Mast’s head. Arthur neared the console when his father teleported a foot away and slammed his fist into his son’s chest before vanishing again.

  Arthur was in the air before crashing into the ground and rolling away. His father appeared on the console and leapt fifteen feet in the air in a blurringly fast backflip. At the top of his arc, a small green fireball shot from his fingertips, exploding against the console and sealing the keycard in place. Mat was rushing to Mast and Catalina as the mobster yanked the agent upright. He aimed his rifle at the fighting women as a gunshot rang out, snapping his head back as a spray of blood marked the computer tower next to him. Arthur watched as Steven, badly bleeding, staggered fully around a console, weakly re-training his gun on his old boss.

  Dark Saint was on his feet again, only to stutter-warp upwards violently, hit a gantry, and propel himself toward Steven. “Look out!” Arthur shouted as his father landed and planted a vicious straight punch which sent the mobster rocketing backward. In a series of acrobatic lunges and flips, he was now grabbing Julia and slamming her into the floor before yanking her into the air. Arthur recognized a haunting sound which permeated almost the entire exchange: his father was laughing.

  Mast freed a hand from Catalina’s grapple and shoved a thumb into the mobster’s eye socket. Catalina screamed and released her opponent. The agent glanced down the aisle, then ga
ve a quick kick to the mobster’s gut. Catalina stumbled backward and spun into her bleeding sister.

  “Consider this your termination,” Allison said with a hint of whimsy before jamming the gun under Catalina’s chin and pulling the trigger.

  “Your weakness is heartbreaking,” Dark Saint shouted to Julia as Arthur rose to his feet, hand grabbing the electro-dagger. Arthur sprinted toward them, weapon ready. “You don’t kill a single villain, you let Talia escape, and now you show your true colors.” Arthur leapt as soon as he could, but Dark Saint wheeled around and knocked him backward with a telekinetic shockwave. He swung Julia around, regarding her coldly. She pawed at his wrist as she glared. “Such a disappointment,” he said. He released her before knocking her out of the air with a cataclysmic punch to the head, sending her tumbling away and landing in a heap by the front console.

  “Julia!” Arthur screamed as she remained unmoving. He rolled onto his stomach, reaching for her with his free hand. She didn’t respond, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek as his jaw clenched.

  “Overseer, arm Freedom’s Sword,” Dark Saint muttered, seemingly bored.

  “No!” Arthur groaned impotently, hand tightening around the makeshift dagger.

  S-O-S-C-O-P-Y…

  “Freedom’s Sword armed. Beginning countdown.” On the screen, a window opened displaying 11:39:47, and began to descend.

  R-A-Z-E-S-H-I-T…

  His father crossed over to him, grabbing him by the neck and yanking him upright. “You have so much more potential than her…” he growled, pulling Arthur into the air. “Why be so defiant?”

  “Fuck you, that’s why!” Arthur shouted, jamming the dagger up and into his father’s chest, catching on the cloak… only to have it jam into something metallic with a dull clank.

  His father cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Arthur panicked. The only means to realistically incapacitate Dark Saint was a one-shot deal. The moment he felt his father’s hands tighten around his neck, Arthur committed to arming the weapon. With a whine, the thing grew hot and exploded, flames erupting over the fabric as Arthur and his father were blown apart by the shockwave.

  The fire ate away at the cloak as Arthur hit the ground. Dark Saint roared with rage as he covered his face. Gunshots thundered loudly as Agent Mast and Allison fired at him from their positions. The bullets went wide or hit his armored chest, but he was too distracted to fight back properly. Arthur got to his feet and ran toward the women as their magazines ran dry.

  “Asshole’s a lot tougher than he looks!” Allison shouted. She was pale from blood loss, but didn’t look too distracted by it.

  “You have to get out of here,” Arthur said, eyes on his writhing father.

  Agent Mast flashed her golden eyes, hazy with pain, to him. “We can’t go… we have to stop…” She stumbled a bit, blood trickling down her side from the bullet wound.

  “We can’t stop it,” he said, looking down into her eyes.

  “So he wins?” Allison asked. Then, with a wave of her empty pistol, she asked, “Who is that prick, anyway?”

  “But…” Mast began, but stopped as she studied his face. She looked at him, nodding. “Can you do this?”

  “You’re going to have to trust me,” he said, stepping forward to face his father. Dark Saint was rising, flames almost finished eating at the cloak, revealing the part-charred, part-polished armor beneath. The skin on his bare arms was horribly burned but began knitting itself quickly, regaining its fleshy pallor. “You two get Steven out if he’s alive, and get everyone away from here,” he said, casting a final glance in their direction.

  Mast gave a nod and turned around, staggering down the aisle while Allison took a step toward him. “You’re not allowed to die, just to let you know,” she said. The mobster gave him a smile and turned to follow the agent.

  His father’s cloak finished burning away, leaving drifting red motes around him as he stared at his son. The angry, burned face began to heal as his eyes grew narrow. The countdown clock continued to click downward as he clenched his fists. “It won’t matter, you know,” he began, slowly moving toward Arthur. “I’ll find them eventually.”

  “This ends now, Dark Saint,” Arthur shouted, trying his best to sound confident.

  “And how do you hope to accomplish such a feat?” Dark Saint chided. “You are not Bestowed. I am the master of mimicry.” He extended his hand to his son. “Stop this hopeless fight, and you and I can guide the new world from the shadows.”

  “This is the way it has to be,” he said, shaking.

  His father smiled as sparks webbed out from his body, tracing wing-like outlines behind him. “So be it.” Arthur’s hackles rose as he anticipated his father’s attack. “Aura Burst!” Dante roared as his son brought his hand up to protect his eyes moments before the outlines exploded into brilliance. The shadow of his hand seared into Arthur’s vision, and he hissed as he heard the crackle of fire erupt into existence.

  Going on instinct, Arthur dove to the side as a burst of orange flame whipped by, exploding into the tower that had been behind him. His eyes were barely starting to regain focus as he looked up at a shadow speeding toward him. Dark Saint leapt at his son, a psychic blade of some sort in his hands. Quickly, Arthur darted aside as his father landed, the weapon evaporating on impact with the sound of shattering glass.

  Tears had welled up in Arthur’s eyes, but his vision had mostly returned as he scrambled upright and down the nearest aisle. With a ‘whomp’, a burst of heat licked at his exposed skin. He hazarded a look over his shoulder as Dante rounded the corner and lobbed another fireball toward him, forcing Arthur to turn down one of the aisles. The explosion only managed to knock him slightly off balance as he continued to run.

  SOS COPY RAZE SHIT… had she gone completely insane?

  “Cryonic…” his father shouted from behind him. Arthur looked back, his father lifting his hand above his head, his palm seeming to shift to a blue tint as crackles of sparks danced off it. Snapping his hand toward his son, he finished with a climactic “Hail!” The freezing air hit Arthur and immediately made his lungs burn as the aisle frosted over. The air crackled above him, forming a sheet of ice which quickly shattered into dangerous looking shards. He immediately dove to his left at the next intersection as the icy daggers plummeted downward.

  Pain exploded in his calf before he hit the ground. Arthur screamed as he struggled to get to his feet, his right leg pulsing angrily. He felt warm and freezing liquid mingle on the skin of his foot, subconsciously noting that the ice had torn into his flesh. A loud clunk of boots on metal drew his attention upward. His father, sadistic smile on his face, stood on top of the tower and carved a green-hued rendition of one of Zombress’s sigils in front of him.

  “Heart Breaker!” he yelled, swinging his fist into the spinning glyph, shattering it. Two large shards split off and arced through the air at Arthur. He sprinted around the corner as one sailed past, shattering into dust against a tower but leaving an impressive indentation. The other followed in a lazy arc as he continued to run down the aisle, the green discus gaining on him. His leg was screaming, tendrils of fire working up his nervous system as he dove to the right at the next intersection, the shard trying to follow but smashing into the nearest computer in a burst of light.

  “SOS, copy, raze, shit,” Arthur said as he pushed himself against the wall. “SOS-copy-raze-shit!” he hissed louder, looking around the corner.

  “Can’t quite seem to get the hang of that one,” his father called out in an amused tone. He heard the thud of boots landing. “See-you-soon-my-son!” he shouted rapidly, Arthur immediately recognizing the shift in speed. Panicked, his eyes hit the floor, scanning the thick cables. He grabbed one and felt it barely move, buried as it was under other wires. He heard the rapid click of his father charging up the aisles and waited for his instinct to tell him when to… now!

  Arthur yanked up on the cable, bringing up a thick nest of the snakelike w
ires. His father slammed into them, his pure speed ripping them in half before momentum made him tumble forward into a roll as electricity arced in the air behind him.

  “Warning,” Overseer called out. “Main power has been cut to line 5. Battery backup initiated.” Backup… backup, Arthur thought. Something about the words stuck in his head as he rose to his feet and ran away from the still-twitching wires. “One hour of emergency battery remains.” Copy… backup… backup copy… SOS backup… He slowed to a halt as it dawned on him. Emergency backup. Destroy the computers.

  Suddenly, his father slammed into him at an unbearable speed, first knocking him into a computer bank, then to the floor, then into the air. Dark Saint leapt onto the tower and caught him by the throat, hefting him above the floor. He looked at his son, eyes wild. “This really has been fun catching up and all…” Arthur’s hand fell to the stun baton. “… But I’m getting a bit worn out.”

  Arthur snapped the weapon free and extended it, slamming the sparking rod against his father’s exposed forearm. The electric current raced through both of them, knocking them apart. Arthur fell to the ground in a heap, twisting his ankle as the baton thankfully fell some distance away. Dark Saint had fallen backward into the parallel aisle.

  Struggling to his feet, Arthur grabbed his weapon and collapsed it. His father gave a scream of anger from the next aisle, and immediately the air around him began to heat up. Waves of distortion made Arthur’s vision dance. Recognizing the danger, he sprinted on his wounded legs to the end of the aisle.

  The world behind him exploded, a towering angry fireball reminiscent of Fire’s last night on earth erupting from Dark Saint. The shockwave threw Arthur hard to the floor. As the scalding air cooled, he chanced a look back at the smoke billowing in a mushroom as metal slag rained down.