Secrets of a D-List Supervillain (12 page)

While the northern frontier team member delivered his report in rapid fire fashion, I could feel Ultraweapon’s gaze fixed on me, or maybe it was just the rampant paranoia that seemed to rule my life.

“Thank you for that report, Comet,” Patterson said. “Why don’t we hear from our friends along the Gulf Coast, next? How are you this evening, Mr. Stringel? I heard you took a bullet in the arm yesterday. I hope it’s nothing more serious than that.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” I replied, in a really bad British accent, and noticed Graham cracked a smile, obviously getting the Monty Python reference. Despite the bad blood between the two of us, he seemed to treat me professionally enough so far.

“That’s good to hear,” Lazarus said, oozing false sincerity. “Just remember to keep your head in the fight when you’re not in your armor. Keep a cool head and temper your reactions, unless of course you intended to kill that man.”

He was goading me, and it was working. “Well, he did try to kill me. I don’t take kindly to that. The old karma boomerang caught up with that fella a few seconds later. For some others out there, I suspect it’s going to take a little longer, but since you seem to have a firm grasp of what’s going on down here, would you care to give the report for me?”

“No. No. I was merely wishing you a swift recovery. I seem to be doing that a lot these days. I hope it doesn’t become a trend.”

“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Patterson, I’ll be fine. But your concern is duly noted. Other than the foiled bank robbery that we just discussed, things are relatively quiet along the Gulf Coast. We have reports from several pest-control companies in Baton Rouge about an increase in rat activity, which usually means Rodentia is in the area. Louisiana authorities have issued an advisory. She-Dozer, Anemone, and several members of the Six Pack, all left for South Florida to assist The Pelican in a counter narcotic operation that may involve supers. When they return, Chain Charmer and I are headed to Texas to investigate sightings of Blazing She-clops and the Passive Aggressive Menace in the Waco area. Our inactive roster includes Andydroid and the Biloxi Bugler. WhirlWendy sent word that she would be back in ten days.”

“You seem short on good people down there, Mechanical. I’m sorry, Stringel; did you still want to be called that?”

“Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you call me.”

Patterson smiled and seemed amused. “You seem awfully angry, Mr. Stringel. Perhaps you should rethink the superhero business. It doesn’t seem to be agreeing with you. If it were anyone else, I would try to locate the components you require to create a new set of armor. However, after further consideration, and coupled with the knowledge that the blood of several of my employees is on your hands, I could not, in good conscience, provide you with any assistance... ever. It is my deepest hope the gears of history will grind you up and spit you out like the irrelevant little maggot you are.”

The look on my face probably betrayed how deeply his barb struck, but I wasn’t the kind of person to take something like that lying down.

“Tell me something, Lazarus; did you incorporate a mindwiper into your suit—for when your dates discover what a limp dick you are? Now, if we’re done, do you mind giving us the West Coast report or have you got something else you’d like to talk about?”

There was the slightest change in his smug disposition, and I hoped that I scored at least one point in retribution.

• • •

“Yeah,” Bobby agreed as the video ended. “I can see why you think he needs killing.”

“Like usual, I thought of a dozen things I could have brought up. From him blowing up Maxine’s bombs and killing those hostages to the fact that Maxine might have been his half-sister.”

“Really?” Bobby said, sounding surprised. “Max V?”

“Yeah, thought I told you that. I don’t know if it was true, but she sure as hell thought so. Every time since then, when I’m on monitor duty, he’s there like clockwork. I should feel special. He’s spending time screwing around with me when he could be porking some model.”

“Too bad you can’t use all this against him.”

Nodding I said, “He’s as shady as they come, but he pays his public relations department well. No one in their right mind would go up against... wait just a damn minute! There is someone I could go to.”

• • •

Megan Bostic was waiting for me in the hotel’s virtually deserted restaurant. Most anyone staying here was out enjoying the nightlife New Orleans had to offer. Her dark wavy hair had lightened through the years, and I concluded that she was still out of my league. She’d graduated from a woman obsessed with bringing down Lazarus Patterson, to being the face of the Anti-Hero movement. After all, taking down the one who scorned her appeared too petty. Taking them all down, now that was the sign of a crusader. Even so, the ease with which she’d agreed to meet me told me that Ultraweapon still had a place in her heart, or at least destroying Lazarus still did.

It’s important to have a goal. I’ve learned that over the years.
“Good evening, Ms. Bostic.”

“I must say, I’m astonished that you actually showed up,” she said, and tilted her wine glass to me as I sat. “People in the superhero community rarely call me unless it is to deliver the threat of another lawsuit. For one to actually want to meet with me borders on the astonishing.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call me a member of the community, but if you’re going with that analogy, I’m the guy who just moved in and is driving down everyone else’s property values.”

She let out an amused laugh before saying, “I’d put you more at the registered sex offender status, given your little romp with WhirlWendy.”

“Oh, you know that wasn’t me,” I replied, and sipped my water.

“Of course it wasn’t, and strangely enough, no one has seen Michael Mather since then, and dear Wendy has been on a personal hiatus since that night. Could we just skip over the part where you pretend I’m that stupid?”

“Oh, no offense intended, Ms. Bostic. I just promised Wendy that I would deny it publicly, so I’m going to keep doing that. Ask again, and you’ll get the same answer. Read into that what you will.”

“Fair enough, Calvin. May I call you that?”

“Actually, call me Cal.”

“So, do you seriously want me to help you write and publish your memoir?”

“Confessions of a D-List Supervillain, and yes, I do.”

“I like the title,” she declared. “Sounds catchy. However, what makes you think it will sell. Granted you spent a few weeks as Stacy Mitchell’s bed warmer, and that will garner some interest, but my time is worth more than an all too brief ‘boy lands the dream girl and proceeds to lose her’.”

“My suit. Before it was recently destroyed,” I began. “It recorded almost everything, and I archived it offline fairly religiously. The book would practically write itself.”

Pulling my tablet out, I handed it to her. “Here’s a little slice of the dirty underside of the superhero world that everyone works so hard to stop the public from seeing. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

She practically snatched the device from me. I’d chosen the part where I was arguing with Athena about the public story giving Ultraweapon credit for stopping the bug invasion, and culminating with Patterson zapping Aphrodite with a mindwiper.

“This footage could be faked,” she said, but the unhealthy gleam in her eye told me she’d already taken the bait.

“Sure, it could be, but it isn’t. I’ve got lots and lots of juicy stuff and no qualms about letting it all hang out. I just need someone to be an editor and agent for my manuscript. Since you’re an award winning journalist who already has several excellent novels out concerning the problems presented to society by super powered human beings, I could think of no other person on this planet who is better positioned to help me make this dream a reality.”

“How long did you practice that bit of sucking up?” she inquired.

“Long enough to memorize it,” I replied. “I’d like for us to be able to do business, but there are a couple of conditions.”

“There always are,” she commented. “All right, let’s hear them.”

“First, we can’t release anything until I get that pardon they keep dangling in front of me like a carrot. It’s one thing to give a massive middle finger to everyone in a cape and tights, but it will be hard to enjoy the victory from several hundred feet below the North Dakota countryside, if you know what I mean?”

Megan nodded, and said, “I can see why you want that. Anything else?”

“Actually, now that I think about it, that’s the only one that will really hold things up. Obviously, you’d be signing an ironclad nondisclosure agreement, but that’s just a technicality.”

She appeared surprised by my sudden reversal. “Why is that Cal?”

Leaning forward, I tried to seem nonchalant while answering, “For a moment there, I almost started acting like one of them. I’d better watch myself. The truth is that if you screw me over I won’t be in a position to bring a lawsuit against you, because I’ll be either in prison or on the run again. For your sake, you’d better hope it is prison. Otherwise, you, and probably anyone you care about, won’t have much longer to live. After all, there’s a reason the title has the word supervillain in it. I have what I like to call extremely flexible morals. So, stab me in the back and you’ll get the answer to where Mather is.”

“I’ve had my share of death threats, Cal. It’d take a lot more than what you bring to the table to rattle me, but I’ll take you at your word, and will go ahead and do a nondisclosure agreement. One thing about the ‘tell all’ industry is that the real money is made when you’re on the talkshow circuit. That won’t happen if you’re on the run or in prison, so it’s in my best interests to ensure that you are able to sit on a couch with a camera in front of you and talk about your book. So, do we have the beginnings of a partnership?”

I took her offered hand and said, “I do believe we do, Megan.”

Of course, in reality, I was waiting for the pardon before releasing the book so that when I killed good old Lazarus I already had a built-in alibi, and perhaps the sympathy of the general public. As far as I was concerned, it was never too early to consider something like that. We spent the next thirty minutes hashing out the rest of the details before agreeing to meet again in my home state of Alabama.

In truth, this little get together had gone much better than I had hoped, and I was already close to becoming a best-selling author.

Now, the only trick was making sure I would be in a position to enjoy the accolades.

• • •

My most optimistic plan called for a patient year-long wait while I located all the components for my new armor. You can only imagine my surprise when none other than Paul West showed up and asked what I needed to make the next version of Mechani-CAL a reality. Now, instead of years, I could begin thinking in terms of months.”

Given the fact that I could barely stand that no-good sleazy bastard, it was a remarkable reversal of fortune. Even though I’m not one to believe in signs, on the surface, this was about as fortuitous as I could imagine.

Driving a rented U-Haul through the gates of the Branson Missouri mansion owned by The Evil Overlord, or one of his shell companies, brought back memories of Vicky, which felt like so long ago. My time with her had been a slow build of something incredible; cut short way before its time. Now, I couldn’t help but compare it to the fast-moving train wreck with Stacy. With the Olympian, our interactions were volatile and desperate on both our parts. Vicky allowed me to be happy with the person I was and not feel like I needed to change. Conversely, those few weeks with Stacy before she was mindwiped, had challenged me and made me actually want to become a better man. Despite the fact that it was pointless to debate the merits of my two failed relationships, I couldn’t help but wonder which of the two was closer to being the
real
thing.

In all likelihood, I’d take that question to the grave with me.

Taking in the surroundings, I felt a sense of nostalgia. With the exception of a different paint color on the shutters, the main house looked exactly as I remembered. Part of me wished that I could walk around back to the hot tub, and find Vicky enjoying one of her trashy romance novels.

Instead, Paul West and two of his goons stepped out the front door and began walking to me. Sliding my right hand into a waiting force blaster gauntlet, I wasn’t going to simply accept Mr. West and his employer’s gracious offer like some doe eyed newbie.

“Good morning, Mr. Stringel. I trust you had a pleasant drive.”

“It had its moments,” I said. The trip had been a good way to blow off some steam after another late night session of Patterson and the nightly report.

“Very good,” Paul answered. “If you would back up to the garage, we can get the items you requested loaded.”

I was still waiting for the other shoe to fall, but did as he directed while my mind ran through any and all scenarios of how The Overlord could be screwing me over
. His men could easily slip a bomb into one of the crates, but what does that get him? It’s not like I, or the Gulf Coasters are a threat to his organization. Bugs and listening devices? That’s probably a given, but I can sweep for those easily enough at the storage unit where I’m going to take this, so I can inspect it before transporting it to our headquarters. So far, nothing I can come up with is better than The Overlord wanting me to keep Ultradouche occupied.