I pulled a small telescope out of the bag Shadow had been carrying and set it up on its tripod so the lens was trained on the front entrance to the other building. Shadow brought in some cheap metal folding chairs we had found abandoned in another room. We sat with me by the telescope and Shadow at another window armed with binoculars. We settled in to wait and observe the building.
“If you ever hire another detective, will the advertisement read ‘Must have an iron butt’?” Shadow asked after a long while. “I don’t think even professional theater reviewers sit around as much as detectives do.”
“The trick is to look like you’re thinking deep thoughts and sifting through clues while you’re waiting,” I said. “It gives people the impression that you’re doing something important.”
“There is more to this detecting business than meets the eye,” Shadow said.
“We’re like icebergs that way,” I agreed.
“Look like you’re thinking deep thoughts so I have someone to model myself after,” Shadow said.
I tried. After a few minutes, Shadow spoke again.
“Never mind. I’ll figure out how to look like I’m thinking deep thoughts on my own. You just look like you’re constipated.”
I did not respond. I was too busy thinking deep Heroic thoughts. Shadow was neither a detective nor a Hero, so who was she to judge?
We carefully kept watch on the building all day. We watched people come and go. Some were in costumes, others were not. Enough people were in costume, though, it soon became clear that unless we had stumbled upon a Metahuman convention or a gathering of cosplayers, the building was connected to the Metahuman Liberation Front. Since Shadow and I recognized a few of the costumed folk as known supervillains, I ruled out the possibility of cosplayers.
In the early afternoon, we observed the Pied Piper and Bonebreaker leave, accompanied by two other costumed people—one man, one woman—neither Shadow nor I recognized. The woman wore high heeled boots and a skintight outfit that showed off the generous proportions of her body. I examined her form closely with the telescope. Perhaps I would find a clue there. Or, though it did not seem possible in light of how tight it was, perhaps the woman was smuggling Clara out of the building in her outfit. A careful detective can never be too diligent.
I glance over at Shadow. She was dressed in her usual black ensemble. Not even a blind man would mistake Shadow’s curves as belonging to a man, but she certainly was not dressed sexily like the Metahuman outside.
“Why don’t you dress more like our female friend out there?” I asked Shadow. I almost added Shadow had the figure for it, but it seemed likely I would get kicked in the throat if I said something like that.
Shadow shifted her binoculars a bit to look at the woman.
“I don’t like to draw too much attention to myself,” Shadow said.
“A lot of female costumed Metas don’t seem to feel that way,” I pointed out. “The average costumed Meta female could be mistaken for a streetwalker because of the way she dresses.” Even if Shadow walked down the street buck naked, I had a hard time thinking of her as a prostitute. She wore an air of menace and dignity like a cloak. Woe to the John who mistook Shadow for a hooker.
Shadow shrugged.
“I suspect it’s because their costumes are designed by men,” she said.
By the time darkness fell, we had noted the comings and goings of quite a few people. None, however, were children, much less Clara. If she was inside the building, they were not letting her out, at least not while we watched. As the day wore on, though, it became clear that several Metas and people we suspected were Metas called the building home.
“Getting into that building, searching around for Clara, and getting her out without getting her or us killed by all those Metas is going to be a tall order,” Shadow said. “Even for us, and we’re no slouches. And that assumes she’s even in there to begin with.”
“Where else would they be keeping her?” I asked. “On Sesame Street?”
Shadow kept talking as if I had not said a word. I was getting used to it.
“You ever think about turning this whole thing over to the police? Or even the Heroes' Guild?” she asked. “They could raid the place and throw a lot of manpower at the building that we don’t have. Heck, as far as the cops are concerned, they don’t even have to raid the place. They could get a warrant to search the building and find and bring Clara out nice and peacefully.”
“I have thought about that,” I said. “But if we hand this over to the police and they get a warrant, do you really think the Pied Piper is going to let them execute it on him just because they ask nicely? He’s a terrorist. Not following the law is part of the job description. As for the Heroes' Guild, sure they can get a bunch of Heroes together and get Clara out if they had a mind to do so. But, if they got her out, they would then turn her over to the civilian authorities. You and I know the Pied Piper was controlling her when Clara blew up the subway, but the cops and the state don’t know that and won’t have any proof of that. They’ll prosecute her for more crimes than the number of years Clara has been alive. She’s innocent. I’m not inclined to do something that’s going to wind up having her spend the rest of her time as a juvenile in juvenile prison. And that assumes they don’t try her as an adult in light of the number of deaths and severity of the injuries at the subway station. Clara might never see the light of day as a free person again.”
I shook my head.
“Plus, although the cops and the Heroes' Guild have more manpower than we do, you know what they don’t have?”
Shadow shook her head.
“Us,” I said. “Even though we’re outnumbered, I trust us to extricate Clara more than I do anyone else.”
After a moment or two, Shadow sighed.
“Yeah, everything you said I kind of thought too. I just wanted to see if there was a flaw in my logic somewhere before I went and risked getting myself killed over a girl I don’t even know.” Shadow shook her head. “Plus, I hate the notion of running to someone else for help. The very idea sticks in my craw. You and I can’t continue to do the kinds of things we do if we have to stop and holler for backup every time we’re in a tight spot or face bad odds.”
I nodded in agreement. I left unvoiced the thought Shadow could back out and let me rescue Clara by myself. I knew Shadow would be offended at the mere suggestion. She had signed on to help me, and help me she would, even if she got herself killed in the process. Her word, once given, was unbreakable. Despite our many differences, Shadow and I were alike in that way.
“Plus, on the upside, you are getting paid for this gig,” I said.
“Yes, a whopping fifty cents. How could I forget? Though it’s not enough money to retire on, when I do retire, I’ll be sure to buy myself a couple of gumballs with those two quarters,” Shadow said.
“Not so fast,” I said. “With inflation these days, you’ll be lucky to be able to put a down-payment on those gumballs with the fifty cents by the time you retire.”
“A good point.”
We were quiet for a while. What we needed was proof positive Clara was inside the building across the way, and if so, intel about where exactly she was in the building and the security situation so we could intelligently plan a rescue operation. What we needed was to talk to someone who had spent some time inside the building we were surveilling.
“We need to know exactly what is going on in that building. Would it shock you if I proposed a kidnapping?” I asked.
Shadow’s face lit up with a smile. It was like watching a sunrise.
“Kidnapping? I thought you would never ask,” she said happily. She paused. “Besides, after watching you—a high and mighty licensed Hero—break and enter, my shock fuses have been blown.”
CHAPTER 19
The first step was deciding whom to target. Shadow and I did not want to kidnap one of the Metas from next door who would be hard to capture and contain. That eliminated from contention s
everal of the Metas Shadow and I recognized from next door. Bonebreaker, who was super strong, was out, as was Ghost who could phase through objects, Blaster, who shot beams of concussive force from his eyes, and Hot Foot, who could generate and control fire.
But, that also eliminated people with more subtle but equally potent abilities. We spotted Entomologist next door, but we discarded him as a candidate for what we had in mind. He could control insects. Though they were not always readily apparent, insects were all around us, both in the world generally but also specifically in the abandoned building Shadow and I were in. If we captured Entomologist, he would have an army of insects crawling over me and Shadow in a heartbeat, stinging and biting us, blinding us by crawling over our eyes, and deafening and choking us by flying and crawling into our ears and throats.
The Masochist was also out. She grew more powerful the more pain she underwent. A few bites down on her own tongue or lips, and Shadow and I would have a powerhouse on our hands who would be harder and harder to defeat the more we struggled against her.
No, we needed someone whose powers would not be so easy to use offensively against us so we could contain him or her long enough to get the information we needed.
We finally decided on a Meta named Hacker whom we saw come and go several times. He was one of the Metas Shadow had listed when I first went to the gym to meet with her whom she knew of as being a member of the MLF. I did not known him when Shadow had mentioned him then, and I did not recognize him when she pointed him out to me as he left the building we had under surveillance. Hacker was a bit shorter than average, and had a compact muscular build and sandy hair. He got into a restored old light blue Mustang that was parked down the street from the building, and drove away.
According to Shadow, Hacker’s power was the ability to reprogram electronic devices simply by touching them. A simple device he could reprogram almost instantly; something more complex would take him longer. Hacker’s powers were useful in stealing money from ATMs and gaining illegal entry into databases, but not so useful in fighting back against two determined kidnappers. That was why we decided to target him. On top of that, he kept to a pretty regular schedule, coming and going from the MLF building at predictable times. He was perfect.
The third day Shadow and I had been watching the MLF building, right on schedule around twilight Hacker unlocked the door of his car and got in. He started the car, put it into gear, and drove off.
I sat up from where I had been hiding in the back seat of the car under a blanket Hacker had left back there. I was sure he did not leave it back there for the purpose of hiding a potential kidnapper, but the blanket did not balk at being used for that purpose. I had my gun out. I pressed its barrel against the base of Hacker’s skull, just under his hairline on his bare skin. I wanted him to feel the metal and know what it was.
“Jesus!” Hacker exclaimed. His eyes flicked over to the rear-view mirror, and he saw me sitting behind him. If I were a woman or interested in men, I would have said that up close, Hacker was a handsome man with pretty eyes. They were a light brown and flecked with gold. I waved hello to him with my free hand. I had to give the guy credit: he did not swerve or brake or accelerate or do anything other than what he had been doing before I popped up in his backseat. He was a cool customer.
“That thing you’re feeling pressed against your head is a nine millimeter Remington pistol,” I said to him. “The kind of hole it will make in your skull at this range is frightening to even think of. If you give me the slightest bit of trouble, I’ll splatter your brains all over the windshield. If you don’t do exactly what I tell you to do, ditto. If you even look at me funny, ditto. You get the message? Say yes or no instead of nodding or shaking your head. I’ve got an itchy trigger finger, and the slightest movement by you might make me do something rash and quite permanent.”
“Yes, I understand,” Hacker said. I would not have killed him in cold-blood of course. He did not know that though, and I certainly was not about to volunteer information about my Heroic scruples.
“Good,” I said. “I would hate to mess up your nice interior. It looks like a restored 1965 Mustang. It’s a beauty. The only problem with these old cars is they don’t have modern burglar deterrent technology. Car alarms, that sort of thing. It makes it really easy to break into them.”
“Is that what you want? The car? Let me out and you can have it. I won’t give you any trouble. I can give you money too. Everything I have on me.”
“I’m not interested in your car or your money,” I said. “I also am not interested in hurting you if I don’t have to, so don’t do something stupid and make me have to. Now shut up and keep quiet. Turn right here.” Hacker did as I told him. I had him drive to the spot I had arranged to meet Shadow at, a location about twenty-five minutes away from the MLF building.
At my direction, Hacker pulled into the parking lot of Shady Pine Elementary, an elementary school that had been closed for years due to budget cuts and the aging demographics of the neighborhood. The city had been talking about doing something with the school property for years, but, bureaucracy being what it was, nothing had been done with it yet. It was a good bet nothing would be done with it for some time to come. The surrounding woods were beginning to reclaim it. In a decade the paved parking lot would be ripped up by encroaching vegetation and the school building itself would be a mass of trees, vines, and brambles. Perhaps the city would do something with the property before then, but I had learned long ago to never underestimate government inertia and inaction.
There was not much traffic on the road that went past the school, and what traffic there was was obscured from view by overgrown shrubbery and trees.
“Keep going until you’re behind the school,” I said to Hacker. In a few moments, we were there. “Pull up near that Nissan,” I said to him then. The back parking lot was vacant except for my car and weeds and saplings valiantly trying to reclaim the asphalt surface for the wild. My car was parked near the crumbling school building. Shadow was leaning against my car with her arms crossed.
“Hey, I know her,” Hacker said as he parked the car. “She’s Shadow. What’s all this about? What do you want from me?” He hesitated. “Whoa, I feel funny all of a sudden. What are you doing to—” Hacker’s voice trailed off. He slumped forward over the steering wheel. I had used my powers to prevent oxygen from binding to his blood long enough to make him pass out. It was something I disliked doing as using my powers in that fashion was very delicate. I was afraid I would make a mistake and kill somebody. I was also afraid I would get used to and enjoy the power my abilities gave me over people. Becoming like the Pied Piper and other supervillains lay down that path.
But, using my powers on Hacker to knock him out was safer than bashing him over the head. If I had used the latter method, I might have accidentally caved his skull in and knocked him out permanently. If I knew how to use the Vulcan nerve pinch, I would have done that instead. But, I was not a Vulcan, this was not the Starship Enterprise, and green-blooded aliens and Star Trek were not real anyway. So thought a person who was a Metahuman with the power of hydrokinesis. Perhaps, somewhere out in the universe, Vulcans did not think I was real, either.
“I don’t suppose you know how to use the Vulcan nerve pinch?” I said to Shadow as she opened the driver’s side door to get Hacker out. “If you do, perhaps you can teach me how to do it.”
Shadow grabbed Hacker and slung him over her shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “Is that some sort of Star Wars thing?” Right there, in that moment, I almost made the dark turn into supervillaindom and smote Shadow for confusing Star Wars and Star Trek. I was willing to participate in a kidnapping for a good cause, but letting Star Wars and Star Trek confusion stand was more than I could take.
Shadow carried Hacker into the school. I trailed behind her, mumbling under my breath about cultural philistines.
CHAPTER 20<
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Shadow carried Hacker into a classroom we had already prepared for the purpose of housing him. She deposited him into a heavy wooden chair in the center of the room that had thick arms on it. We had already nailed the chair to the floor. I used rope to tie him to the chair. I bound his ankles to the legs, his wrists to the chair’s arms, and his waist to the slats in the back.
“Make sure you tie him down securely,” Shadow said. “We don’t want him escaping the moment our backs are turned.”
I made a face at her.
“Don’t try to teach grandpa how to suck eggs,” I said. “You yourself said I’m an overgrown Boy Scout. I know a thing or two about tying knots. I could teach a master class in it.”
“Sucking eggs and Vulcan nerve pinches. Why don’t you learn how to speak like a normal person?” Shadow asked.
I could not think of anything to say to that, so I kept quiet. As I made sure Hacker was secure, I thought about how there were virtues in working alone. Having a sidekick was overrated. I checked to ensure Hacker was tied down tightly, but not so tightly his circulation was cut off. He would be here for a while.
I pulled up another chair, put it in front Hacker, and sat down to wait for him to revive. Shadow stood nearby, quiet and motionless. I was pretty sure if she had to, she could stand rock still like a statue until the final trumpet heralding the end of the world sounded.
We waited for a while. After a few minutes, Shadow spoke.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
“Good. A mind is a terrible thing to waste,” I said.
Shadow proceeded as if she hadn’t heard me. “If Clara is in that building and we need to go in there to get her, can’t you do to everyone in there what you did to Hacker here? Just knock everyone out cold, and we can waltz in like we own the place.”
Superhero Detective Series (Book 2): The Missing Exploding Girl Page 13