Project Northwoods (110 page)

July 11
th
, 2011

Mid-Morning

Colonel Morant, wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans, was taking the stairwell to the roof of the building after the elevator had taken him as far as it could. The VWN building was teeming with activity, newly returned workers trying to reorganize after all the looters had their fill of the place. Only a few people gave him sideways glances, others nodding as he passed them by. Forgiveness was not easy to achieve, but it seemed that a few had realized he understood the mistakes he had made.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he shoved the door open, nearly blinding himself as the sunlight streamed over his face. As his eyes adjusted, he could see Zombress, in a blue business suit with an orange skull on the back of the jacket, standing on top of the helicopter pad. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she scanned the nearby buildings. He moved toward the series of stairs which would take him up to the pad.

“I’m assuming your plans are going well?” she asked as soon as he crested the stairs.

“As well as could be expected,” he responded. The wind was not particularly fierce today, but it wasn’t pleasant. “I’ll be setting up meetings between all formerly registered heroes, a villain, and an Enforcer who helped take out Arbiter after this. Once all the statements are evaluated, we can begin rebuilding.” He looked up at her, her sunglasses glimmering in the solar glare.

She nodded. “Communication is king.”

“I figured it was for the best. We can have everyone reinstated within six months if things go well.”

“And if they don’t?” she asked, turning to face him, the spider-motif spectacles momentarily blocked by a stray strand of hair.

“Eighteen months.”

She turned back toward the buildings. “Any sign of Archetype?”

Morant shook his head. “He’s disappeared. Even his apartment looks like it’s been abandoned for months.”

“That’s a shame,” Zombress muttered. “I’d like to snap him in half like a wishbone.”

“Arbiter’s at least in a heavy-duty sleep chamber.” His companion snorted in derision. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she mused. “Oh, by the way,” she said in the manner of having the intention of bringing up the topic for the entire conversation, “thank you for my token villain consulship of the Guild back.” She reached into her pocket and flashed the card. “I’m glad to see that after they tried to kill me, they want me back.”

Colonel Morant laughed lightly. “Zombress, people need leaders. And I see no other that is more qualified for the position than you.”

She cocked her eyebrow. “A villain leading the heroes? My dear colonel…” she said, giving him a gentle shove, “think of my credibility.”

He smiled. “I think you’ll survive.”

Zombress returned the smile. “I think you’re right.” The door to the stairwell squeaked open, drawing Morant’s attention. Zombress took the opportunity to walk to the edge of the helipad. “I seem to remember something about consuls voting on who temporarily replaces a deposed High Consul… am I right?”

Morant saw a cameraman and the head of the station approaching the helipad. His brow furrowed in confusion for a brief moment. “That is correct.” He looked back at her as she continued to the edge of the building. “Why?”

“It just seems like a lot of people lost their positions recently,” Zombress mused. “Which means that I’m the only consul.”

Colonel Morant’s expression shifted to disbelief. “I would have thought…”

“No need for humility, Mr. High Consul, sir,” she said, spinning in place and snapping him a salute. She smiled, baring her teeth as her hand fell again to her side. “If you need help, I’m sure you’ll see me around.”

“Zombress!” Morant shouted as the cameraman and Producer reached the top of the stairs.

Zombress took off her sunglasses and tucked them in her jacket pocket. “Sorry, boys!” She carved a symbol in the air. “But I don’t give interviews!” In a blur of motion, she leapt through it, backflipping off the side of the building. Morant ran to the edge, watching her slide down the side effortlessly before kicking off and continuing her descent on the structure across the street.

“So, High Consul, sir,” Producer said smoothly. Morant’s attention turned to his company as the cameraman braced himself and hefted the camera to his shoulder. Solomon ‘Producer’ Houston smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “Huge fan of your work, by the way, Zombress vouched for you and the capture of Arbiter, while he was defeated by a villain, was a masterstroke,” he said rapidly before cracking his neck and bringing the microphone to his mouth. “Any words of wisdom for your new constituents?”

Arthur had always thought that funerals needed rain to work properly. But it was a beautiful, sunny day. It wasn’t even cold, his hot tears staying warm on his face on the windless spring morning. A few times during the magister’s ceremonial speech, he had started to cry louder than normal, only to be greeted by the glare of his father. His dad held Julia as they stood at the side of the coffin, the nine-month-old sleeping quietly. Even if she had been awake, she’d occupy herself by looking around at the assembled faces, clearly unable to grasp what anything meant.

The young boy looked over his shoulder as the magister droned on about his mother. Separate from his group of mourners, a tall dark woman, somber and immaculately dressed in black with sunglasses hiding her eyes, watched silently. He waved to her, but she did not return the gesture.

A bony hand fell on his shoulder. He immediately looked up at the man his father had placed as his ‘guardian’ for the funeral. A wan smile crossed his face as his other hand rocked on his walking cane. “Child, do not beckon those of lesser morals into our midst.”

Arthur didn’t ask what that meant. She seemed alright to him. A little scary, in a way he couldn’t quite understand, but not bad. The woman in black didn’t seem to be the kind who’d yell at him like his father. His father, whom everyone worshiped but who needed little provocation to scold his son.

He looked over his shoulder to where he last saw the woman. She had disappeared, as though willed into the shadows.

July 15
th
, 2011

Afternoon

Julia sat on the couch in the living room which was now officially hers, staring out the window as the rain fell in sheets. Dressed in jeans and a tank top, she ran a hand through her hair, messing it up even more than it already was. Occasionally, a car would drive past and kick up a wall of water, making her panic ever so slightly as the engine grew closer. Invariably, it would fade away, leaving her alone with her thoughts again. She had to wait for her villain and Enforcer duo to show up and ask her about recent events, all so they could come to grips with the situation.

To be fair, she didn’t care if she got her license back. In the few months since graduating, she had seen so many people hurt, participated in things she would never be able to forgive herself for. Even with Colonel Morant as the head of the Heroes’ Guild, working with Zombress as he was, it felt like every hero in New York was marked by the taint of her father.

The knock startled her upright, twisting toward the sound. She got to her feet and shuffled to the door. Surprisingly, she didn’t hear anyone on the porch, but she wagered the villain they got to do this mock-trial was stealthy. She undid the latch as the doorbell rang, prompting a quick eye-roll as she opened the door.

Julia stopped, staring at the woman in front of her. “Is this some kind of joke?” she asked, eyeing up Ariana, the villain looking at her with a hint of something in her eye. She was dressed business casual, carrying a small briefcase with the Hero and Villain seals.

“I actually requested you,” Ariana said simply. “May we come in?” she asked, gesturing to the short female Enforcer behind her.

Julia regarded them silently for a moment. “Sure.” She turned and walked toward the dining room, listening as the two others walked in behind her.

“Berkeley, could you wait in the living room for a moment?” Ariana asked quietly.

“Of course,” came the response.

Julia entered the dining room and leaned on the back of the nearest chair. Once she heard Ariana’s heels click on the hardwood floor, she gestured to another spot. Ariana didn’t sit down, but stood across from her, watching the heroine closely. After enough of a pause, Julia gently kicked at the empty air. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Ariana set the briefcase down, smiling to herself, exhausted. “I never thought we’d meet, you know?” Her eyes went up. She absently scratched her face. “Outside of glimpsing you at a party, I never…” Ariana’s eyes went to the table. “… Never had the courage to confront you.”

“I didn’t exactly hunt you down,” Julia said. A pause. She was waiting for Ariana to do or say something vicious, to attempt something while her guard dog waited in the other room. As the silence stretched, she finally grew weary with the lull. “I did shoot you.” She threw her hands up in a ‘ya got me’ gesture. “But that’s it, I swear.”

Ariana laughed through her nose and smirked out of habit. “I always… blamed you for everything that happened… you and your brother, anyway.” Her eyes flitted up to Julia, her face twitching with emotion. “Everything… just got so fucked up, you know?”

Julia arched her eyebrows and nodded. “I know.”

The villain looked toward the ceiling, brushing away a tear. “You saw him…” she began, choking on the word ‘die’. “… Right?” Julia nodded. Ariana’s eyes clenched shut, forcing out another tear. “I’m sorry,” she coughed.

Hit by the words, Julia staggered. “What?”

“If things had been different…” she said, her hand up as though warning Julia to stay back. “I would have seen what happened.” Ariana pointed to herself. “If I had seen… him…” She brought her hand up to her mouth. Julia moved around the table as Ariana began backing herself into the corner. “No one… should have… to see someone… they love… die,” she said between gasps.

Julia, surprised at herself, grabbed Ariana from the side and held her close, her own eyes watering. “I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say.

Ariana collapsed, pulling Julia down with her. She remained clenched onto the hero’s arm as the rest of her sprawled on the floor. “I loved him so much,” she managed to say in between sobs.

“Me, too,” Julia said simply. “Me, too.”