Project Northwoods (25 page)

Tim grabbed the remote and turned back to their preferred channel. Sure enough, the network was up and running. A similar title card greeted the roommates on the television. “Villain World News is back, bigger and badder than ever,” a voice which Arthur recognized as the station owner growled in a bad imitation of a rock star. “We take you now to the scene of a breaking story.”

The screen flickered to Talia Illyanovich, looking disheveled but still attractive in the Heroes’ Guild. She held something to her ear as a microphone shook in her hands. Around her, the voices of confusion and irritation roiled like water, fighting to drown out one another. It seemed that the heroes were on the cusp of an all-out riot.

Tim tapped Ariana. “We met her.”

Ariana rolled her eyes. “Oh, believe me. I know.”

“Villains have been suffering through a media and travel lock down for twenty-four hours following an unknown incident at the Super Heroes’ Guild late Friday night,” she rattled in her impressive non-regional dialect. Arthur was astounded at how good of an actress she was. “No information on the event is available, but Arbiter has issued a request for a voting member meeting at this unusual hour.”

“She has no idea what’s going on,” Ariana said in amazement.

“They weren’t kidding when they said communications were cut,” Tim muttered.

Stalling for time, Talia smiled at the camera. “For those who don’t know, the elections are…” She stopped, eyes fixed on something unseen. Horror spread across her features. “Move the camera!” she screamed in her normal voice, shoving the cameraman out of the way. A flurry of motion, screams of shock, and finally the camera returned to focus. Talia was staring at something on the stage. She looked back at the camera. “Are you getting this?”

The cameraman stood up, focusing on a severely battered Zombress crumpled on the stage. She was conscious, although it was hard to tell how she managed that feat. The massive form of Arbiter strode toward the villain after having tossed her from the entrance to the hall. The cacophony had devolved into stunned silence at his entrance, none wanting to question the Lord of Justice.

“On Friday night, we were victims, once more, of a terrible crime. Zombress, self-styled Queen of the Dead… murderer, assassin… and your fellow Consul, committed this deed.” He raced forward and kicked her in the gut, sending her to the floor. There were cries of foul play when he turned back to the crowd. “I warned you! All of you! This scum could not be trusted.” He pointed at her. “She had no doubt plotted a way to carry out the destruction her fellow villains sought over two decades ago!”

Talia turned toward the camera, mouth working but no words coming out. Zombress struggled to get up, but, from behind the camera, Julia moved with surprising speed toward her. In a moment, her boot was firmly on Zombress’s neck. She pulled out her gun and cocked it.

Arbiter addressed his audience again. “Desert Ranger was a great hero. But he was naive. He called for kindness… reconciliation… compassion for these monsters! These monsters who would take their greatest friend and destroy him!” His voice choked with emotion. He looked at his hands. “Dark Saint… my friend… my only true friend… sought to stop…” It was unsettling watching Arbiter clench and unclench his fists, clearly trying to rein in emotions other than fury. What one could see of his face turned red as he hunched over. He gasped for air, then pointed again at Zombress. “Stop
this
from happening!”

The television screen flickered, then static invaded the screen. There seemed to be a collective gasp. Someone screamed.

“What the fuck, what the fuck is she doing!” a male voice shouted. More yells of terror echoed. Dimly, Arthur was aware that the typical censorship-bleeps were missing.

“She’s getting off the floor…” Talia whispered fearfully. “Impossible…”

“Stop her, Arbiter!” another one cried out.

There was a constant muttering, and it took a moment for them to realize that it must have been the cameraman repeating “No,” over and over.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked.

“She can’t escape…” Ariana said in between panicked breaths.

The camera recovered. Arbiter stomped over to the villain and hunched over her as Julia continued to back away from the downed woman. Julia’s gun pointed vaguely above her target as it wavered, her shock-white face terrifying Arthur.

“Didn’t Talia say…” Tim began. The others hissed him into silence.

Arbiter grabbed Zombress by the throat and hefted her into the air. Whatever had transfixed Julia broke its hold – she blinked heavily and readjusted her aim as Zombress pawed weakly at Arbiter’s thick arms. “Consuls Dark Saint and Desert Ranger, our faithful security guard Tom Gavin, and countless others have died by your hands! Men who sought only justice have been severed from life by murder most foul!” He pulled her close to him as he turned to his audience. “No prison can contain her! No medicine can cure her of her need to kill!” He looked back at her and raised her into the air again.

But her eyes were not on him. She was looking down at Julia, their eyes locked. She tried to say something but either couldn’t manage the air or was nowhere near loud enough to be picked up by the microphones. Her plea went unregistered by Julia, who had taken to pulling and resetting the hammer on her gun repeatedly.

“It’s time to end this!” Arbiter roared. He spiked Zombress, head first, into the floor. The woman crumpled with a sickening crunch. Someone in the Guild vomited. Ariana buried her head in Tim’s shoulder while Arthur covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. What seemed like an eternity passed, like they walked through a membrane of reality itself. “Dark times are upon us again,” Arbiter began. “Zombress is but one head of the hydra, and the resilience of the beast has grown stronger as it suckled at the teat of our government.” He walked toward the other heroes. “Our families, our homes, our very lives are at stake. Do we let the sacrifices of our forebears, of Desert Ranger and Dark Saint go forgotten?

“We can continue as before, hoping that the next peace will be longer, but we would be kidding ourselves. Villains are no more capable of peace than we are of denying ourselves the air we breathe.” He paused, breathing deeply, before resuming slowly and building with every word. “You can live in fear, never knowing if your children are safe or if your powers are strong enough to keep them so. I offer you a solution. Gather behind me, and there shall be no doubt.

“No longer shall the unjust be allowed to run free! No longer shall the tyranny of bureaucracy stop our duty! In your heart, you know I speak the truth!” He raised his hands in a ‘V’. “America! Shall! Be! Purged!”

For a brief moment, Arthur thought that the other heroes would bum rush the stage and take Arbiter out. The silence following his speech ended abruptly as a set of hands, followed by more, then more still, clapped again and again. Soon, the entire Guild was applauding. Talia looked at her camera, then grabbed it before it cut out.

“This is a joke,” Arthur muttered.

“What are they thinking?” Tim asked to no one in particular.

“It’s like we mean nothing.” Ariana stared at the television.

Arthur turned to another station. Sure enough, Arbiter continued to bask in the adoration of the Guild members. It seemed surreal, like if Arthur concentrated hard enough, he’d snap out of it and he’d be back to reading books in the dark. But the image never left and the sound seemed to grow and grow. Arthur shook his head. “What’s going to be left of us when this ends?”

NORMALITY

June 23
rd
, 2011

Morning

TALIA LEANED AGAINST A BUILDING,
eating a bagel as she held a newspaper in front of her face with her other hand. Crumbs fell gently to her navy blue suit and her red tie, but that could hardly be of concern at the moment. The headline declaring that Arbiter was going to remove the Protective Clauses had grabbed her attention and rendered any possible bagel-related mishaps inconsequential. She scanned the article before, having had enough of it, she shoved the paper under her arm with a roll of her eyes.

Paranoid pap
, she mentally scoffed as she finished her bagel. Pushing off the building, she grabbed the newspaper and threw it into the nearest trash bin on her way to the crowded sidewalk.

It was another warm morning, foretelling of a hot and humid Thursday gearing up to be all manner of oppressive. People were growing more and more irritable in direct correlation with the rising temperature, feeding off each other’s discomfort in a cycle of abuse. Talia suspected that the villain press’s relentless reporting of every possible wrongdoing Arbiter could conceivably commit provided an outlet for their rage toward the weather.

It had been four days since Arbiter managed to win an unchallenged emergency election on Sunday morning. Outside of the many closed meetings which were being held in the Heroes’ Guild, nothing had changed. People went about their jobs as normal, there were still mock fights in the streets, and, for all intents and purposes, it appeared that level heads prevailed.

She rubbed her hands together to rid herself of crumbs before reaching into her suit pockets and fumbling with the shattered remnants of the flash drive Zombress had given her. Talia knew there was a story there, and an important one, but she couldn’t find anything uncorrupted on any of the computers she used. Zombress’s… spectacle… in the Heroes’ Guild did nothing to prove her innocence in the matter of the triple homicide… quadruple if one counted the mobster’s death that started it all. Talia couldn’t justify Arbiter’s actions, knowing what she did, but she couldn’t come forward without implicating herself. It was an awful situation, made worse by the impending sense of dread most of her companions seemed to have.

Talia stopped impatiently at a crosswalk, waiting at the back of a group of pedestrians staring at the ‘Don’t Walk’ sign. Two costumed villains exchanged pleasantries in front of her. One motioned with the newspaper in his hand held open to an image of Arbiter grandstanding in front of the then-moving Zombress. The image had become iconic the instant it had been taken. “Think they’ll come after me today?” came a derisive remark.

“They’re too busy fitting Arbiter with a choke-chain,” the other said. The two laughed, prompting Talia to roll her eyes. They really did appear to be nervous, but the comment seemed to have about the same level as sincerity of someone claiming to leave the country when a new president is elected. It was all just idle chatter; the grand scheme would remain unaffected by the actions of mice and men.

The light changed, and Talia charged across the street, separating from one pack only to disappear into another. She longed for the serenity of her office, with her private washroom and lockable door. It was safe and quiet and hers, which was really just one of the few things which made her job tolerable. She neared the next intersection and, as though sensing her eagerness to be rid of pedestrians, the lights changed at her approach, allowing her to make better time.

The route was so familiar to her that, in the final block, she stared more at the feet of those in front of her than at her destination. She mentally steeled herself for the work day. There was no doubt that Producer would immediately corner her and start his paranoia-laced theories about how this was all just to target him and then where would villain-kind be? Her lip turned up in a sneer as she reached into her pocket for her cigarette.

The wind was knocked out of her before she even realized that someone had slammed into her with surprising force. She was flying backward, firmly in another’s arms, as the buildings whipped by her. Those behind her were scattered to the ground as others, mostly caught up in their own lives, were forced to move around their sprawled forms. She and her captor hit the ground for only a moment before they were up again, landing more than two blocks away from where Talia had been scooped up. She was released awkwardly and shoved, stumbling, into an alleyway.