by Jay Phillips
“We need one thing, Detective,” said another voice from a small speaker sitting on the table, a voice The Detective instantly recognized as belonging to Supreme Chancellor Rogers, Agent America himself. “We need your help.”
The Detective reached up with his right hand and rubbed his forehead. “Not to be rude or anything, but that really just came out of fucking nowhere. I mean seriously, you lot, actually turning to me for help. You know I hate you all, right?”
“Three hours ago, Detective,” the voice from the speaker began, “we found the body of Anthony Barren; his brains had been splattered across his penthouse.”
“The Iron Knight is dead?”
“Yes,” the speaker answered. “And we need your help to find his killer.”
The Detective smiled a grin half out of amusement and the other half from confusion. “Seriously? Me?”
“Your reputation of being possibly the world’s greatest detective is highly respected, and despite your incarceration, we see the value in your obvious skills. Some of my associates have different opinions---” The Ice Queen raised her hand. “But I personally believe this murder is simply the first attack in a much greater plot.”
The Detective nodded. “Most likely.”
“Excuse me?” The Ice Queen interjected.
“Well,” The Detective responded, “if I was going to go through all of the trouble of killing one of you, I might as well go for the other six while I was at it.”
“You see, Ice,” the speaker quickly replied. “That is my point exactly. No one would go through the trouble of just killing one of The Seven. If one of us is a target, we are all a target.”
“And what exactly do I get out of this arrangement?” The Detective asked. “Cause if it’s just that good feeling you get from helping your fellow man, then I’m out now.”
“If you cooperate and the killer is found, Detective,” the voice from the box explained, “you will be granted your freedom.”
The lawyer pushed a piece of paper and a pen in front of The Detective. “The choice is yours: you can sign this agreement and resume your life as The Detective, or you can stay here and continue your imprisonment as Prisoner 616.”
“Has anyone ever told you your scent is a bad mix of desperation and…” The Detective sniffed the air towards the lawyer. “Is that hair growth shampoo? Seriously, man, that stuff doesn’t work.”
Ice pushed the paper closer towards him. “You have exactly five seconds before I am out of here. I don’t need you anyways.” She turned towards the speaker. “I don’t need him, Agent; I can find this asshole myself.”
“Ice, calm down,” the man on the other side of the speaker responded. “We need him and his talents. Now please, Detective, if you would kindly sign the release agreement, we can get you out of prison and begin working toward the greater good.”
The Detective exhaled loudly and picked up the pen. “Fine,” he said as he signed the agreement. “But if I have buyer’s remorse from this, I’m going to be seriously pissed.”
The Ice Queen grabbed the paper and handed it to the lawyer, then turned back to the Detective. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Does it bother you?”
“Immensely.”
“Then, no, I don’t,” he said with a smirk.
“Mr. Grant, is everything in order?” the speaker box asked.
The lawyer, whose name was apparently Grant, looked over the paper. “Yes sir, everything is signed and dated.”
“Good,” the box replied in turn. “Detective, Ice, I wish you two the best of luck. Ice, please keep me updated to your progress and don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.” And with those words, the speaker box on the table went silent.
“Nice guy,” The Detective said, watching the other two stand up. “I really should have voted for him. Oh wait…never mind.”
“Shut up,” Ice replied without looking at him. “Grant, are we done here?”
“Hold on a second,” The Detective interrupted before Grant could answer. “I am not going out to search for a killer with my ass showing in this hospital gown. I need the stuff I came in with.”
“Fine. Whatever,” Ice answered, her tone short. “If it gets us out of here, let’s just get the goddamn requisition officer.”
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Journal Entry
[Found on Page 48]
Note: The following is a transcription of the speech Agent America gave the night he officially declared himself Supreme Chancellor of the United States .
(The Agent sits without his mask in the Oval office, showing his face and black hair to the world for the first time.)
The Agent: My fellow Americans, tonight, I have personally placed the President of the United States under arrest for crimes against this country and its people. It is with much thought and debate that I have made this decision, knowing fully in my heart this country will be a better and greater place for it. The President and his accomplices in the Congress have divided this nation in half, split families down a line, and forced us all to choose a side. I say no more.
I say there will be no divide; I say there will be no more sides; I say people will no longer be forced to choose. There will no longer be a separation of Americans divided by those who have and those who don’t. We will be a classless society, built on the ideals of hope and dreams; we will no longer be a land where one small percentage of citizens will be allowed to bask in a life of luxury built from their fellow man’s sweat and tears.
I know many of you are worried what these changes mean to you, as far as what will happen to you and your personal lives. And the answer to that is simply nothing. I promise you, the American citizen, that your lives will be the same tomorrow as they were yesterday. Actually, I promise they will be better. I promise health care for every American, rich or poor, young or old. I promise a complete end to unemployment; all Americans will have a job. There will be no more homeless or deprived, for all citizens of this great nation will be given what they are needed when it is needed.
But I cannot promise better for our nation and its people without some semblance of change. From this point forward, the position of President of the United States will be disbanded, as will Congress and all of its members along with The Supreme Court. If the members of these antiquated institutions cooperate with these changes and willingly accept their place back amongst the people, I will personally issue pardons for each of them. If they do not cooperate, they will be charged with treason and tried as war criminals. The choice is theirs.
On a local level, all state governments will be given the same terms: willfully disband or face a tribunal for their crimes. I will personally assign a Governor for each state, and they will work with you, the citizens, to rebuild this great country, state by state, into the place it should and will be. All city and municipal governments will be looked at by the Governors and the decisions therein will be made by them. All local police are instructed to continue keeping the peace and maintain the laws as they were. What was illegal yesterday is still illegal today.
On the national level, I will assign myself the title of Chancellor, and I and the rest of The Seven will place ourselves responsible for the peace and security of this great country. We will protect its borders from all those who would do it harm, and all those who would see it destroyed from within.
In closing, I will say that from this point forward, we will be one nation with one set of common goals. We will all fight for one another, not against one another. We shall be one nation under one flag with a singular set of ideals and dreams. And from here on out, we will no longer be a nation divided; we will be whole.
Goodnight my America and breathe easily knowing you live in a nation where peace is no longer just an idea but a way of life.
(End speech)
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After another long walk, past several rooms containing hundreds of the same
types of containment units that had so recently been his prison, The Detective and his new best friend The Ice Queen found the elevator that offered the only way out of The Hole. The long walk did nothing to help his still adjusting legs and bare feet, but he said nothing nor showed any sign of the pain he felt. He watched as the Ice Queen opened a small panel on the door frames, revealing a small numerical pad. She punched in several numbers and the lift doors opened wide before them. They walked inside; a box labeled 616 sat on the floor.
“Mine, I presume?” He asked as he attempted in vain to hide his uncovered backside while he bent down in front of the box.
She shook her head at him, a look of frustration covering her pale but flawless face. “Not that bright are you?”
“I try,” he said with a fake look of hurt feelings. “Well, sometimes.”
“It’s a box with 616 on the side,” she answered, ignoring his previous comment. “You are 616---”
“Was 616,” he interrupted.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “you are 616, so obviously, this must be your box.”
He shook his head as he opened the box. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”
“Are you planning on being quiet at any point?”
“Probably not,” he answered as he began pulling clothing from the container.
“Then yes,” she said with a sigh, “it’s going to be a long damn night.”
“I’m going to choose to ignore that last insult just because I’m such a nice person.” He sorted through the clothes, making sure he was leaving with everything he had come in with. “Let’s see, one tan overcoat with built in holster, one brown suit, one white shirt, one black tie, one pair of black shoes, one black fedora---”
Ice interrupted him, sharply turning and staring at the black hat he held in his hand. “A fedora? Seriously?”
“Chicks dig fedoras.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, slick,” she said as she moved towards the elevator‘s control panel. “Did you get everything?”
The Detective pulled a pistol from the box. “And one 9mm Beretta.” He pulled out the clip then pushed it back in. “Still loaded.”
“You need a gun?” she asked, pulling the gun from his grasp. “You have powers; isn’t that a bit of overkill?”
The Detective took the gun from her hands. “Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, or something like that. Maybe I just like it cause it’s shiny and goes boom.”
She pushed the button for the top floor. “Whatever makes you happy. But you now have exactly five minutes to get dressed before we reach the top, and if you’re not ready by then, I’m going to leave your naked ass here.”
The Detective picked up his pants and started to put them on, before stopping and looking back at the woman staring at him. “A little privacy, maybe?”
The Ice Queen shrugged her shoulders as the force of the elevator going up momentarily put them both off balance. “Probably not going to happen, slick.”
“Oh well,” he said in return as he took off the hospital gown and began to put on his pants. “It’s your show, princess.”
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SYSTEM TESTING IN PROCESS
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BOOSTERS FUNCTIONAL
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WEAPONS FUNCTIONAL
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TELEPORTATION SYSTEM FUNCTIONAL
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OPEN FILE DOCUMENTS
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SEARCH DOCUMENTS: SELF DEFENSE PROTOCOLS
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DOCUMENT FOUND: OPEN DOCUMENT
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If someone other than myself is reading this, then a) I must be dead, and b) you have managed to hijack my most advanced suit of armor, the last one I built and the one I have spent the last few years trying to continually improve. Hijacking this suit is quite impressive since the systems are bio-locked to only work with me within it. Whoever you are, nice trick.
If you don’t know it already, I put this file together to keep a contingency plan for when the inevitable happens and The Agent betrays me. This is a plan of action I put together---
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SEARCH DOCUMENT: SPEED DEMON
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Speed Demon a.k.a. Billy North. Home Location: A large apartment in downtown Metro City, just three blocks from where I live. What can I say about Billy North? Well, he’s an idiot. That’s simply the nicest way of putting it. The man is an all out moron. Now while I will be the first to admit that he can be funny at times, the amount of nonsense that comes from this idiot is mind boggling. It’s nonstop.
Strengths: North is fast; I’ll give him that. Very fast. To be honest, I have yet to be able to measure his true speed. His speed not only extends to his legs but his arms as well. He can dodge and throw punches at superhuman velocity. I have often theorized that as North runs the world seems to slow down around him, allowing him to see and experience everything in a type of slow motion.
Weaknesses: As stated above, North is an idiot. He has no ability to strategize a plan or anticipate an opponent's next move. He relies on his powers and his powers alone. Also, North has speed and nothing else. His body is as weak as any average normal. He can be shot, stabbed, blown up, or simply beat to death.
Plan of action: North is all speed and nothing else, but beside that, I have yet to be able to design a suit that can come anywhere close to matching his velocity. Even advanced boosters, tweaked to their maximum levels of performance, can’t come close to North’s level of speed. But I have devised another tactic. I have designed and built a teleportation device and placed it within my most advanced suit of armor. The teleportation system combined with the suit's targeting system, if used correctly, could anticipate North’s movements and be where he’s going before he gets there. And once caught, North is nothing more than a human.
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CLOSE FILE
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ACTIVATE TELEPORTATION SYSTEM
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The Ice Queen’s red sports car (a two seater, no less) sat waiting for him. The Detective climbed in and settled himself for a long ride, what with The Hole located over an hour from the city proper. The interstate bled darkness from one mile marker to the next, the distance from the prison never feeling far enough away. He pushed his hat down over his short brown hair, almost past his brown eyes, leaving enough of his vision clear to gain the occasional glance at the woman sitting next to him. In all of his years hating The Seven, and the past little bit he had spent trying to piss her off, he had neglected to notice that she was gorgeous. The long white hair flowing down her back, those beautiful blue eyes, the red lips which formed a perfect pout, the way her breasts---
He stopped himself again, shaking his head back and forth, trying to shrug it off and shake the cobwebs out. What the hell was that? That little distraction, he convinced himself, originated from a year in prison without seeing a woman who wasn’t just the sound of a disembodied voice somewhere within his mind. Damn, he though to himself, all of this had happened fast; honestly, he was just now catching up. Did he really just agree to help The Agent and The Ice Queen find out who had killed Anthony Barren? Seriously? At the moment, he wasn’t sure whether to catch the guy or cheer him on.
Five minutes of silent traveling had begun to wear on him. Too many thoughts poured through his mind, too many unanswered questions. He led with the most obvious. “So that Grant guy, what was his power, extreme ass-kissery?” he asked with
out ever lifting his hat from his eyes.
“Goddamn it,” Ice said in return. “I knew the quiet was too good to last.”
“Super powered paper pushing?”
She sighed. “For the record, not that its any of your concern, but Grant is a normal who has been in employment by The Seven for several years. He handles many of our legal matters.”
“I’m impressed.” The Detective sat up, taking the hat off of his eyes and placing it slightly off-kilter on his head. “I’m amazed you would allow a normal so high into the organization.”
“For your information, 616---”
“Please,” he interrupted, “I‘m not sure I know you well enough to be on a first name basis; you may refer to me as Mr. 616.”
She ignored him. “As I was saying, we have several normals placed in important positions throughout the government. Despite what you and the rest of the world may believe, the life of the average normal is not as horrible as you would make it out to be. They all have jobs---”
“That the government assigns them to,” he interjected.
“There are no homeless.”
“I always assumed the government had them processed into food.”
“No,” she angrily bit back. “All of our normals, the sick, the weak, those who cannot take care of themselves, are taken care of. We maintained the judicial system, the education system, and national healthcare.”
“All of your normals, or citizens as they’re called everyplace else, are told what to do, how to do it, and how long to do it, but they don’t get to ask why they do it. That might upset the system.” He pushed his hat back down and sat back hard against the seat.
“Since we took over,” she said, making it obvious that she was trying to control the tone of her voice, “the crime rate in this country has fell to less than one percent.”
He sat up, taking his hat off and staring her in the face. “Because all of your ‘normals’ live in fear of their super powered overlords. They have a national curfew; they have no choice to the direction of their lives. They can’t even vote anymore; you and your cronies assign out every single governmental position.”